Hunger is a Bear (Albert by Name)

I discovered this morning that Albert was back. It wasn't a difficult reach (referring to a mental exercise). When I went into the refridgerator to organize breakfast for myself, I found naught (nothing) but the heels (end pieces) from a loaf of bread, a little butter, and half an apple. I didn't get a chance to talk to him about it, because, as usual, he did his magic trick, and disappeared under my bed to sleep away the day. Well, so far anyway. It's only late afternoon.
How does a bear, and he is not a small bear, get under my bed? I can't get under my bed. Not with any kind of comfort and/or ease. And speaking of magic tricks, I didn't hear him come in, and don't even know how he did. In fact, I heard not one sound, and did not wake up at all. There wasn't even a peep out of Eddie, who raises a ruckus whenever anybody drops by. Go figure. I sure can't. 
Anyhow, I don't have to wonder where he is or what he's doing for the moment.  But, damn! Pardon my french (meaning excuse my cursing). I now have to go food shopping. That's no small appetite he has.
Anyroad, I will have a conversation with him about it, but you know the old joke about the 800 pound gorilla: you let him do whatever he wants to do. Albert may not be a gorilla, but I believe the same rule applies to a full grown black bear. At least he's not a grizzly. One small comfort.
So, I'll try to update you on Albert's travel tales (assuming he fills me in), and his continuing war on the Republicans. Hopefully he hasn't eaten too many of them recently. At least there's been nothing in the news about it. Thank God. Not that I would care about him having a couple of Republican "Big Macs", but I sure don't want any law enforcement personnel tracing him back to me. Jeez. That's all I'd need.