the moose that almost ate me

So one day last week, Reese, Kita, and  I were out for our morning jaunt.  There we were, happily traipsing through the woods, soaking in the splendor of the sunny mountain morning.

The path we had chosen for the day was the one closest to the cabins. In fact, you can see almost the entire path from each cabin's back window. It's quite picturesque, really. Large fishing ponds surrounded by pine and aspen. The Bear River brushing the other side of the trail.

Of all the trails we frequent on our walks, this is definitely one of the more trafficked by human paths.

Reese and I had stopped for a minute to explore all the new textures around us - prickly pine needles, smooth river stone, and cold pond water.

Then we foraged on, singing and laughing, oblivious to all around us.

We rounded the bend and

BAM!!!

I literally almost slammed into a moose.

Seriously!!!

A big, huge, towering MOOSE!!!

When does one ever almost run into a moose? I daresay, it's not something you plan on encountering on your average morning stroll through the neighborhood.

I vaguely remembered a story my older brothers had told me about how they had been chased down by a Moose in Farmington years and years ago, barely escaping with their lives!!! It's a small miracle they lived to tell the tale (as my childhood self recalls).

A killer moose.

Surely my moose had to be a distant cousin.

One big family of giant killer moose's (or is it meese? snicker snicker), out with a personal vendetta against the offspring of Dave and Becky.

An Italian mobster moose family.

I immediately whipped around and slowing walked away, too terrified to look behind me to see if she was following me, plotting her bloody attack.

And then, as soon as I was sure I was out of her line of vision I sprinted as fast as my little midget legs could carry me. Track star fast.  Keep in mind I had Reese strapped to the front of me in the Bjorn.

We made it to other side of the pond without being eaten alive.

Barely.

Heart pounding we sized each other up, me and the moose, each on our own side of the pond.

She was beautiful, really.

But not beautiful enough to forget about how she was this close to murdering me. Those nasty mobsters.

They never forget about personal vendettas.

Later that day I went back down to the ponds with my camera to see if she was still there, and sure enough she was.

Watching, waiting for my return, patiently plotting her attack.

I snapped a few pictures and scampered back up the hill to my home safe home.

But I wouldn't be surprised if she's still out there... Still watching and waiting for the perfect moment to pounce (err...hop? wobble? hoof?).

 She's bigger than she looks.

Sizing each other up.

Note:  I decided I can deal with killer moose, but what really creeps me out are wolves. I swear I just saw 2 about 5 minutes ago as I was walking back from one of the cabins. Eerie, Eerie, Eerie. They send shivers down my spine. They could have just been really big creepy looking dogs without collars traveling together. Or not.  They just sat and watched me walk for about 50 yards. It was everything I could do not to run.

So, add to the "Animal Stalkers of Jen" list, 2 wolves.

And then pray for me.