In the autumn of 2003 he tried heading back south to be with his family or other friends; at the airport he got into a towering rage with somebody and failed to board the plane, instead returning to the Alaskan lake shore where he had spent the summer. Unfortunately and despite his assumed name, in so doing he didn't tread very well at all. In the meantime his favourite bear clan had all gone into hibernation and another group had moved in to time-share the place, where a few weeks later Treadwell was reminded of the six basic relationships an animal species may have with other animals in the wild: you ignore it, it picks off your parasites, you pick off its parasites, you fuck it, you eat it, it eats you. This list included the last option, and unfortunately he had taken his latest girlfriend along for the ride as well. After the bears had dined on long pig to their hearts' content the park rangers arrived to collect the leftovers and shoot the bears.
Living proof (better still, dead proof) that you shouldn't believe everything you see on Walt Disney movies.