Parker approached the fence with a telescoping tag pole tipped with a GPS button. The wind direction was favorable; the animal’s focus remained on the doors. “No tranquilizer,” she told her tech. “Too risky with rain and an unknown dose. Let’s tag him if he remains docile.” The pole touched fur. The bear only breathed.
The GPS chirped alive. A small amber light blinked beneath its wet fur. Parker backed away. “Tagged.” Security relaxed an inch. The bear blinked, lowered its head, and remained at the edge of its temporary pen. Inside, Anika exhaled and noted how the bear maintained its guardianship.