The roomate squeezing his a*s out of that crawl space | Ken Johnson
Kenneth Johnson knew something was off when the bricks under his house started looking like they’d lost a bar fight and continued to get worse as months passed. By the time he realized the damage was caused by a furry, uninvited tenant in the form of a full-grown black bear with the spatial awareness of a contortionist, it was too late.
The crawl-space crash pad belongs to Johnson’s modest home in the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains, an area still recovering from January’s devastating Eaton Fire. Following the smoldering remnants of the landscape, displaced wildlife has since been turning suburban backyards into Airbnb listings, but this particular guest took “staying a while” to a whole other level.
“It started in February,” Johnson, 63, told reporters while eyeing the side yard like it might explode. “Bricks pushed in, wood splintered. I thought, ‘No way a bear fits through that hole.’ Then I met the bear.”
In search of answers, Johnson did what any sensible 21-century homeowner would do and outfitted the exterior of his home with trail cameras. As one would expect, the photographic evidence is equal parts impressive and unsettling. The footage depicts a brown-furred bruin the size of a small sofa flattening himself like a furry accordion, while sliding through an opening barely wider than a pizza box, disappearing under the floorboards. Moments later the house rumbles with what neighbors describe as “a garbage disposal gargling gravel.”
Just last Friday, his investigative work led him to a face-to-face encounter with his new roommate while he was changing the camera’s batteries, leaving both him and his cat trembling in fear.
Emerging. Well…trying to.
“I was shaking like a leaf for half an hour,” he admitted. “Meanwhile Boo, my cat, has filed an official complaint and is now living on top of the refrigerator.”
The bear, affectionately nicknamed “Barry” or “Ursa,” depending on the pending determination of the animal’s sex, has turned the crawl space into a five-star den that was conveniently located next to whatever smelled good in the trash that week. According to Johnson, the bear slips in after dark and emerges at dawn, belly occasionally brushing the dirt like low-rider suspension.
Following the discovery, wildlife officials from the California Department of Fish and Wildlife have been notified and are currently in the midst of an extraction plan. Johnson is hoping for a polite eviction that will, in all likelihood, involve some loud noises, maybe some bear-grade pepper spray, and hopefully no physical altercations.
In the meantime, he’s adjusted his daily routine.
“I don’t walk on that side of the house anymore,” he said. “It’s uncomfortable making coffee knowing there’s something under the kitchen that could theoretically bench-press me.”
Despite the adrenaline spikes, Johnson insists he’s not angry, just ready for his houseguest to get the hint.
