A hunter witnessed a bear hunter’s dogs illegally killing a Black Bear cub in the Northwoods and it’s unclear if they reported it or not.

The hunter who witnessed the killing sent the story to the founder of a wildlife nonprofit, and they posted it on their blog.

Upon reading the story: Nightmare in the Northwoods: My Bear Hound Training Gone Wrong, posted online on August 4, 2025, by Friends of the Wisconsin Wolf & Wildlife-Melissa Smith, I felt heartsick for the Black Bear cub’s illegal and horrific death that was observed by the hunter. Then I felt anger because many questions arose in my mind after reading it. Why was this posted online in the first place without even a single sentence mentioning whether it was reported to a Wisconsin Conservation Warden? Lack of that mention angered me because Smith runs a nonprofit that advocates for the protection of wildlife. The lack of that mention made me suspicious of whether or not this is a true story or not. To be safe rather than sorry for the illegal killing of the Black Bear cub and justice, I turned it in. It’s in the hands of the Wisconsin Conservation Wardens, who will investigate it. It is in thier hands now.

First, I will mention I’m no fan of baiting, and using dogs to hunt Wisconsin’ Black Bears. My only concern is that there is justice for this little black bear cub, whoever witnesses the illegal and torturous killing, and must hold the killer accountable by reporting it.

This incident happened on July 19, 2025, somewhere in the northwoods. It seemed a bit self-serving, especially due to all the donate links, the parts about how much bait is in the northwoods, and other parts about how Ray mentions dogs don’t know they are on public land, stuff that the author added made it seem as if it was staged. It was full of the usual complaints that are lodged against Wisconsin Bear Hunters, and sprinkled in with pleas from Smith to donate to her cause. Seems a bit self-serving, I would say.

Another disturbing point was the following that was added to the story: “We must include wildlife in the cruelty law. Wild animals are exempt from cruelty in all 50 states.” Melissa Smith claims to be a wildlife Policy Expert and is unaware of the laws in Wisconsin that pertain to cruelty to wildlife. I would like to remind Smith that Wild animals are not exempt from cruelty, at least in Wisconsin, according to the following.

Wild animals are protected in Wisconsin by law. Perhaps Smith should check the laws before making unfounded statements.

Regarding the inclusion of wildlife in these animal cruelty protections, Wisconsin’s definition of “animal” is broad, including “every living: (a) warm-blooded creature, except a human being; (b) reptile; or (c) amphibian”. This definition, found in Wis. Stat. §951.01(1), inherently extends protection to most wild animals within the state.

However, the application of animal cruelty laws to wildlife is intertwined with Wisconsin’s conservation and wildlife management regulations. Specifically, the legislature acknowledges that while generally prohibiting animal mistreatment, enforcement should not contradict Chapter 29, which addresses “the taking of wild animals”.

This distinction was highlighted in the case of State v. Kuenzi, where the court affirmed that the definition of “animal” includes non-captive wild animals under Wisconsin’s anti-cruelty statute (§ 951.02). In this case, individuals were charged with cruelly killing deer with snowmobiles, and the court rejected the argument that they were engaged in hunting, thus subjecting them to the anti-cruelty law.

Thus, Smith’s statement isn’t factual that “We must include wildlife in the cruelty law. Wild animals are exempt from cruelty in all 50 states.” Smith has proven that she is not up to speed on Wisconsin Law regarding wildlife cruelty.

Before you dive into this fictional or non-fiction piece, know that Smith’s style of advocacy has been under question before, and for misrepresenting her credentials, among other things. But what’s for certain is that if you suspect violations of wildlife, report it.

Report a violation
call or text
1-800-TIP-WDNR
1-800-847-9367

Confidentially report suspected wildlife, recreational, and environmental violations. Available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

Report online

Read the full story that I copied and pasted from Smith’s blog.

Nightmare in the Northwoods: My Bear Hound Training Gone Wrong
Posted on August 4, 2025, by Friends of the Wisconsin Wolf & Wildlife-Melissa Smith
We received this story from Jim S. of Brule, WI

It was July 19th, 2025, and I thought I knew what I was getting into. Growing up near the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest in northern Wisconsin, I’d heard the local stories about bear hound training—legal from July 1 to August 31 to prep dogs for the September hunt. No license needed for baiting since 2015, just unleash the hounds on free-roaming bears to build their instincts. I’ve been a hunter my entire life—deer, birds, ducks, you name it—but I figured this would be an adventure: join a group, watch Plott hounds and Walkers tree a bear, feel the chase. I’d read the DNR regs—up to six dogs per pack, no harvesting during training, just pursuit. But nothing prepared me for what happened, especially after seeing the hounds at Ray’s place. They looked bad: thin with oily coats from poor food, scarred with open wounds from past fights, some missing toes—probably from chases or wire. Most were chained to rusted barrels in his yard, out in the winters that freeze them or summers like this one, over 90°F with 61% humidity, leaving them panting and dry. One Walker had a big lump on its hind end from a car hit last season. Ray, the guide, said he did his own vet care—stitches, maybe antibiotics—except for rabies shots every three years from a large animal vet. “Most don’t live that long,” he said. “Bears, wolves, cars—they get them.” I’d heard about wolves killing houn throats torn out, owners upset. As a lab owner, I could understand that loss. But seeing these dogs like that, I wondered who the victims really were.

We started at dawn, the air full of smoke from Canadian wildfires coming south, making the Bayfield County sky orange and burning my eyes. The fog was thick with the haze, and the heat—already over 90°F—made me sweat, bringing swarms of black flies and mosquitoes that bit constantly in the humid air. Ray unloaded the pack from his truck: first six hounds, collars with GPS trackers, their scarred bodies shaking despite everything. We’d baited a site the day before donuts and grease, no chocolate because it’s toxicbut the scent came through the smoke. Ray let them go, and they ran into the pines, howling.

We got back in his truck—a dirty rig with mud on the tires—and Ray showed me the GPS on his phone, linked to the dogs’ collars through a Garmin app that tracks them up to 10 miles. He explained: dots on a map showing where each dog was, their paths moving through the forest. “We just wait them out,” he said, as we drove onto a gravel road, watching the screen. We drove along backroads, stopping at intersections sometimes, the smoky air coming in the windows with black flies buzzing in the cab. Ray sped through small towns, past signs and houses, laughing when a dot went off public land. “Dogs on private property again—antis don’t understand, dogs can’t read maps!” He laughed, talking about anti-hunters and landowners who complain about hounds crossing fences, causing problems, stressing livestock, leading to fights that could turn bad in the Northwoods. Game cameras catch trucks like his on restricted land, but Ray said deregulation means no real checks, and it’s just how it is. I forced a laugh, but it bothered me; those dots weren’t just chasing to they were going where they shouldn’t, making the area chaotic.

The howls got louder, echoing off birch trees, pulling us into the smoky area. It didn’t take long to find a trail. Jax, the lead Plott, scarred and limping, picked up a scent, and the pack went forward. Ray yelled, “They’re on one!” We went through ferns, my boots sinking in muddy streambanks, worn down from years of hound runs, worse in the humid mud. Then we saw her: a mother black bear, about 200 pounds, moving through the haze with two cubs behind. The smaller one, just born that spring, its fur matted with mist, couldn’t keep up. My stomach turned—regs say avoid sows with cubs, but in the rush, it’s hard to know. Cubs die a lot in these chases; orphaned if the mother gets too stressed, especially in this heat and smoke.

The hounds got close, snarling through the smoky air, their thin bodies breathing hard in the 90°F humidity. The mother roared, swiping at a dog, but they moved away, biting her sides, pushing her up an oak. She climbed, calling to her cubs, breathing hard in the bad air. The larger cub got halfway up, but the smaller one fell over roots, rolling into a ravine. Its cries were high and desperate, cutting through the mosquito noise. Before I could say, “Call them off!” the pack went for it. Jax bit the cub’s leg first. Blood came out, bringing black flies right away, the cub yelling as it fought. Another hound bit its belly, guts coming out with the insects. The kill was rough, crunches and growls covering everything, the smoke making the blood smell worse. The cub’s eyes looked at mine—begging—then went blank. The mother’s calls from the tree were full of pain, hard to see through the haze.

Ray swore, trying his radio, but the dogs were in kill mode, their wounds leaking as they panted in the heat. One yelped when the mother dropped a branch, but they kept going until the cub was torn up, fur and bone everywhere, flies on it. I threw up, the smoke and blood making me sick, my skin itching from bites. This was the bad side I’d missed: cub deaths from hound training, common in Wisconsin where chasing is okay, not like Minnesota with retrieval rules. Seeing those hounds go through the forest rough, nonstop, from pain and neglect couldn’t blame a wolf or any animal for protecting itself or its young. Wolves need to be managed, but certainly not like this who could blame a wolf for defending itself? Ray said he’d lost two dogs to wolves and received $5,000 to replace the lost dogs. I don’t particularly like wolves, but I definitely don’t like paying for dogs put into a fight intentionally. I’d heard of wolves attacking hounds, owners hurt, and I get it. my yellow lab honey is family. But these dogs, chained to barrels, scarred and hungry, were victims too, forced into it. I’ve been a hunter my entire life, but this isn’t a hunt. It’s unnecessary.. maybe a short season with dogs during the regulated hunt, but this is everything wrong with conservation. And maybe the anti-hunters’ public outcry about hunters is correct; we’ve become hunters only concerned with success and cannot police our own. This is not the same as hunting with a dog when you’re bird hunting or duck hunting these animals are all , pushed too far by stuff like this.

We tried to get back together, but the smoke got thicker, covering the trail, my lungs hurting from the bad air in the Midwest. My GPS app failed—no signal here, the heat breaking it. Ray’s radio had static; the hounds spread out, howling, going after the mother or nothing in the haze. I followed, branches hitting my face, cutting skin that brought more flies. The woods turned confusing pines all the same, ground wet with dew and hound marks, humidity making steam. Hours passed; I was lost, howls around me. Were the dogs coming for me? I’d read about attacks—hounds biting hikers and a puppy, problems here with trespassing, wolf issues, and hurting other wildlife.

Night came, the heat still there, my flashlight dim . A snarl close—one of the hounds? The mother bear looking? A wolf from the noise? I fell into a bait site, wrappers all over, the smell bringing insects and more. The howls got closer, nonstop, in my head. I sat down, the cub’s death playing over—its cries, the dogs’ attack, the blood—in the smoky air from Canada. Bear training wasn’t a tradition; it was cruel to cubs, dogs, the woods. If I got out, I’d never come back. But with the howls closing, I thought the Northwoods might keep me. Looking back on it now, there was no thrill in any of it—just regret and a sick feeling that I’d seen the worst side of what I thought I loved.

We must include wildlife in cruelty law
Wild animals are exempt from cruelty in all 50 states

Despite being protected under the Endangered Species Act, wolves in Wisconsin are chased, harassed, and sometimes wounded or even killed by packs of hunting dogs that run the state’s landscape for more than six months of the year. Bear “hounders” face few regulations and little to no enforcement when turning packs of dogs loose to pursue native wildlife.

Please make a $100 donation today to help fight bear hounding and baiting in Wisconsin to protect wolves and other endangered species.
DONATE. HELP US.
WE MUST BAN HOUNDING

These hounds are most frequently released at bear “baiting” sites. These are areas where hunters have dumped hundreds of gallons of stale pastries, syrup, or other foods with the intent of habituating bears to feed there. At last count, there were more than 82,000 baiting sites in the state! Not only is this practice disastrous for bears, and destructive to public lands-imagine dumping hundreds of gallons of syrup and rotting pastries in your favorite park-but it puts Wisconsin’s wolves in frequent conflict with packs of hunting dogs.

Help us fight the entrenched political interests that further this dangerous and unsporting hunting practice.

With more than 82,000 bait stations covering Wisconsin’s wild spaces, it is difficult for wolf packs to establish rendezvous sites that do not intersect with these pastry dump sites. Wolves are territorial, protective animals-it’s how they have survived for centuries. This same defensive behavior leads them to defend their packs and their pups from these hoards of bear hunting dogs running the state half of the calendar year. In defending their rendezvous sites, these wolves are often wounded or killed, and often kill or wound dogs from the hunter’s pack. Hunters in the state are disincentivized to change their ways by a state program that pays them up to $2,500 for dogs lost to wolves defending their pups, packs, and rendezvous sites. This has led to wolves and hunting hounds being killed and wounded at an unprecedented and alarming rate.

This is no way to protect Wisconsin’s wolves or any of its wildlife. We are working on the ground in Wisconsin to stop bear hounding and the virtually-unregulated dumping of bait across the state. We need your help. Please make a 100% tax-deductible donation today to help us fight to end bear baiting and hounding to protect the state’s wolves