Former Arkansan here. Overheard my Dad and his brother recounting stories when growing up in Hot Springs. When they were teenagers, they found a bear cub in the nearby woods and after checking carefully for the mother bear for quite awhile, managed to bring the cub back to their house. Kept the bear in their backyard, chained to a tree. Bear was friendly to the kids in the neighborhood, who could play with it, but bear didn't care for my Dad's mother. One day she went into the backyard to hang some clothes to dry and the bear took a swipe at Dad's mother, tearing her skirt. She promptly went back into house and returned with a shotgun and killed the bear. Dad and my uncle, chuckled about eating bearmeat for awhile. This took place in the 1930s.