If you keep tabs on New England wildlife—and, really, even if you just enjoy a solid example of “caught in the act” mischief—you might appreciate the story out of Jackson, New Hampshire this week, where the town’s police force found themselves investigating a camera theft with a twist that would make even the most seasoned detective raise an eyebrow.

When the Suspect Is (Literally) a Bear

According to a report from UPI, the Jackson Police Department responded to the report of a missing trail camera. Typically, stolen electronics suggest a human culprit—perhaps one with nimble fingers and an eye for secret surveillance. This particular “theft,” however, turned out to be far less run-of-the-mill and far more… furry.

Reviewing the last images captured by the camera, police saw a black bear enthusiastically pawing, gnawing, and ultimately making off with the device. Adding to the spectacle, a second bear—a possible accomplice, or maybe just an intrigued onlooker—appeared in the background. The officers posted the footage on social media, requesting help from “junior detectives” in identifying the suspect, who was cheekily described as “wearing all black” and acting “very suspicious.” The official post, as relayed in both UPI’s article and local coverage from WMTW, sealed the deal with a groan-worthy quip: “This kind of conduct is unbearable.”

A Repeat Offender? The Trail Cam Pattern Emerges

While this particular Jackson bear is the star of the moment, the act isn’t without precedent. WMTW adds context by pointing out a nearly identical incident in New Gloucester, Maine last summer, when a bear was caught on video swiping yet another trail camera—a blink-and-you-miss-it subplot that could easily get lost in more pressing wildlife headlines unless you have a penchant for collecting such oddities. (Archival research, it seems, is good for more than just dusty books.)

WMTW also notes, citing the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife, that black bears are most active in the region from April through November. Given that Maine is home to the largest population of black bears in the eastern U.S., hundreds of human-bear encounters are reported each year. Still, attacks are rare; what we see more often is innocent—or opportunistic—curiosity. A trail camera in the woods, to a bear, may simply be a novel chew toy or an intriguing flashing object. It’s a reminder that when we try to spy on wildlife, sometimes the wildlife spies, and then absconds, right back.

Surveillance, Wild Style

The real question here: What are these bears doing with all this footage? Are we in for a rash of point-of-view documentaries, filmed by roving black bears and mysteriously uploaded to some obscure corner of the internet? Or perhaps trail cameras, with tantalizing whiffs of human scent and blinking motion lights, are just too interesting to ignore for a curious omnivore?

Beneath the humor, there’s a quiet but genuine appreciation for the unpredictability of these encounters. Our passive attempts to document wildlife get upstaged by the natural improvisations of the wildlife itself—a classic case of the observer becoming the observed (and, apparently, the property of the observed). Local authorities, judging by their social media banter, seem content to let the incident join a growing highlight reel of New England’s bear-related oddities, noting that no amount of police puns will reform this particular “criminal.”

A Little Mystery, A Lot of Bear

Incidents like this gently topple expectations about the boundaries between the watcher and the watched. The black bear, with its furry sidekick, gives us a lesson in unpredictability and a solid reminder that not every woodland mystery needs an elaborate solution. Sometimes the best story is just a bear, a borrowed camera, and a punchline written by nature itself.

So, will the future bring us a bear-captured trove of woodland documentaries, or simply more stories of curious creatures outwitting our gadgets? Given recent trends—and a growing, if accidental, archive of bear-cam thefts—it’s getting harder not to wonder if there’s a whole series of “bear steals camera” moments just waiting in the underbrush.