Be Careful What You Wish For!

The Tier II Subsistence Moose Hunt started September 15th, and runs till midnight tonight, when it’ll be  shut down by emergency order. As often happens, I drew a permit, allowing me to hunt for bulls with particular antler configurations. As I do every year, I dream of a legal bull wandering into the compound during daylight. Such an event would certainly beat bagging a moose somewhere else, requiring long, heavy hauls of meat.

The illegal bull that Michelle encountered in September has continued to loiter around the trail head in Mud Bay, wooing a pair of cows (see Crossing the Autumnal Equinox—Both of Them). I have not called moose on our property, fearing this unbaggable bull might come our way.

Friday afternoon, I stepped out into the door yard to attend to some business. I happily went my way until I heard a noise between a snort and a deep belly rumble.

Turning around, I saw a cow moose standing on a low ledge above me, somewhat behind the outhouse. Through the trees, I could see a second cow cropping alders on our Power Point.

Here were, in all likelihood, that same bull’s two girlfriends. Was the bull nearby?

My heart racing, I waved at the nearest cow, bellowing in a low-pitched voice that I felt she should leave. She stared at me stupidly as I backed into the cabin.

I ran to the phone to call Michelle. She’d called a short while ago to tell me she was on her way home from town. I had to reach her before she left cell coverage, or she’d walk blindly into the moose.

I reached her, warned her, hung up, and grabbed my camera to try to get a few photos for this inevitable post.

They had gone. Apparently, my yelling worked.

I can’t escape the irony. With a little more presence of mind, I might have stood my ground, to see if I could call a legal bull into the yard after these two cows. After all, they may not have been meat animals, but they can’t be beat as moose bait!

There’s no denying old saying: “be careful what you wish for, or it might come true!”

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