Grainy security cam footage catches it all: this massive black bear, gut scraping the ground, pushes through a shredded screen door and slips into the dark crawlspace under a sleepy Altadena house. It’s the middle of the night, the sort of video that goes nuts on social media wildlife drama smack in the suburbs. But for 63-year-old Ken Johnson, it’s no joke. This has been his nightmare since right before Thanksgiving 2025, stuck sharing his place with a 550-pound freeloader he can’t kick out by law.
Johnson’s a product photographer on North Altadena Drive. He put up those cameras earlier in the year after spotting some weird damage around the property. Turns out, the offender was a big male black bear, ear-tagged “Yellow 2120” by the wildlife folks, clocking in at around 500 to 550 pounds. Every night, the thing comes out to rummage, tipping over garbage cans and making a mess, then ducks back under the house like it’s his cozy spot.
The toll’s adding up quick. Ripped-up pipes, a busted gas line Johnson had to kill the gas entirely, so now he’s got no hot water.
“If I was keeping score on all my attempts, it’d be Bear 14, Homeowner zip,”
He cracked during a chat with hypefresh, running through his list of flops. He tried blasting recordings of dogs barking down the vents, setting off alarms to make a racket, running the dishwasher and washer for extra noise, even dousing towels in ammonia. Zilch. The bear’s grunts and hisses bounce around inside, scaring the hell out of his cat Boo and leaving Johnson jittery.
“I feel small and exposed in my own house,”
He told them, recalling one time the bear let out this deep, lion-ish roar mixed with a hiss.
The pros from California’s Department of Fish and Wildlife (CDFW) got involved early December. They hit it with non-lethal stuff air horns, lures smelling like caramel and cherries, more ammonia soaks. On December 16, they snagged the wrong bear in a big metal trap, a smaller one they tagged and let go somewhere else. The real target? Still chilling under there. CDFW yanked the trap, thinking the smart aleck wouldn’t fall for it twice. Their advice to Johnson: hang tight, wait for the bear to bounce, then seal up the crawlspace yourself.
Black bears are protected as game animals under California rules. You can’t just off one unless it’s an immediate danger to people and officials say this guy’s not, even with all the headaches. Attacks on humans are super rare in the state; no one’s died from one in the last ten years. But Johnson’s had enough. By the end of December, he was talking about suing CDFW for dropping the ball and causing him emotional grief, saying they ignored their own 19-page playbook on human-bear clashes. He’s chatting with lawyers, but as of December 31, 2025, nothing’s filed yet.
A tweet from X.
The tale blew up big time after @DailyLoud dropped an X post with a 2-minute-18-second KTLA clip that pulled in over 479,000 views. It’s been backed up by solid sources like KTLA, ABC News, People, and the New York Post surveillance vids, Johnson’s story, CDFW’s role all check out. Online, people are split: some feel bad for the guy, others crack up, calling it the “squatter bear” drama, while griping about how wildlife laws trump property rights.
This ain’t a one-off. Altadena’s tucked into the San Gabriel foothills, so bears are getting squeezed out by droughts and that Eaton Fire back in January 2025, wandering into neighborhoods for scraps and shelter. Bears like Yellow 2120 get relocated but often circle back to the easy pickings in trash. It’s that old push-pull in America: folks wanting their space versus protecting animals in vanishing wild spots. CDFW pushes tips like bear-proof bins and electric mats, but with short staff, fixes take forever.
Right now, the bear’s still hunkered down, the lawsuit talk’s hanging in the air, and Johnson’s just waiting a headline-grabbing mess stuck on pause.
