She stared back at me, those big, deep, dark eyes enticing pools of desire. I was spellbound, watching in wonder. What was it about her that held my attention so intently? She took a step closer – so close I caught wind of her scent. The smell of dampness, decomposition and urine filled the air.
So began my day as a moose.
The rain wouldn’t stop. Sitting in my tent in the woods day after day was beginning to wear on my mind. But, even a short walk guaranteed I’d be soaked. It was early morning and the rain’s intensity seemed to let up, I heard just the dripping of the trees. I had to get out, maybe a walk down to the pond. I pulled aside the tent flap and that’s when I ran into her.
She enticingly wiggled her big floppy ears, all the while continuing to chew. Then she winked. I’m sure of it. I stepped out of the tent and stood silently. She winked again. I shook my head in disbelief. I had been in that tent a long time. She winked a third time, I’m sure it was an intentional wink.
“Did you wink at me?” I asked.
She looked right at me a let out a grunt. I lost something in the translation. But what the heck, I grunted back. She stopped chewing and stared directly into my eyes.
We seemed to connect.
There wasn’t another person for miles around, it was just the two of us. I didn’t know what to say.
“You’re a big one. What do you go – about 600 pounds?”
She lowered her head and slowly began to chew again. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say to a lady. Never mention her weight.
“That’s quite a set of hooves,” I was trying to be complimentary. After all, don’t most women have a shoe fetish? She continued to chew. Strike two.
“You’ve got a big butt,” I said, but got no response so quickly added, “It’s very shapely – you know, nicely proportioned.”
This time she raised her head and after a moment gave me another wink. Finally, I had hit on the perfect line. I had broken the ice. For the rest of the day we were inseparable.
I ripped off my clothes and together we went crashing through the alders. She took me to brunch at a nearby bog where we browsed on aquatic plants, willows and water lilies. She showed me how to tear plants from the bottom of the bog by submerging my entire head in the water. I think I impressed her with how long I could hold my breath.
After a quick snack of about 25 pounds of bog bottom, water plants and twigs, we headed for a nearby hiking trail. By now it was late morning and hikers were on the trails. We waited until there was no one near and together, crashing through the alders, we headed for the trail. My lady friend was in the lead. Once on the trail, just ahead of me, she let go with a huge release of Dunkin Munchkin size poop. Then she looked back at me. It was my turn. But I didn’t have to go – oh, wait a minute. Before I knew it I too deposited a respectably large pile of Munchkin poop on the trail. It must have been all that bog water. Quickly she crashed back into the alders. I followed. Hikers were coming up the trail. Side by side we hid in the bushes, watching.
I never thought about it before, but I suppose most times when I came across moose poop while hiking I did stop to look. This group for four people seemed fascinated with our poop. They gathered around it and pointed and oohed and aahed. My lady friend giggled.
The next group was a family and one of the kids stepped in our poop before realizing it was there. The little girl shrieked a high pitched, “Oh gross.” Her father looked back and smiled. “It’s just moose poop sweetie.”
My lady friend frowned in disgust. “If it had been dog poop, they would have stopped to scrape it off. No respect,” she mumbled, shaking her head and turning to walk away. Overall though it was a pretty good laugh.
We continued to walk through the woods together like two bulldozers ploughing our way through the low bushes. Every once in a while my lady friend would stop to munch berries. I was noticing what a well built woman she was.
That afternoon we came to a road. I could see it was a moderately travelled stretch of pavement, rippled by frost-heaves, with a yellow line down the middle. She stopped. I waited. Before long we could hear an approaching car. She smiled at me and winked.
Slowly she stepped to the roadside and nonchalantly began to browse on some grasses. The car came speeding around the corner. I had no sooner seen it, than I heard the tires screech as the driver stomped on the brakes. It stopped about 50 feet away and two people jumped out of either side, one with a camera, who immediately began taking pictures. My lady friend continued to browse as if the people weren’t there. They got back in the car and slowly drove past. She turned and came back into the woods where I stood, motioning that it was my turn.
“What’s the big deal,” I thought. But it seemed that messing with people was what moose did all day. Hearing another car approaching, I stepped to the roadside and began to munch the grasses.
It was the same thing. The tires screeched and a car full of people slowly rolled to a stop beside me. One woman was taking pictures out the side window. That’s when it dawned on me. I was naked. Moose don’t wear clothes. I was standing there beside the road in all my naked glory, and if you’ve ever noticed, a bull moose has plenty of naked glory to be proud of. Still, I was very self-conscious and bolted back into the woods. For the first time I realized that my lady friend was naked too. I managed to give her a bit of a closer look.
“That’s weird,” I thought as we both stood there. “She’s the pretty one, but I’m the one with the rack.”
We had had our fun, stopping traffic, watching people get excited, but I wondered who might see those pictures.
Together we spent the late afternoon nuzzling under a cool pine tree deep in the woods. I was growing captivated by her scent. After a quick nap, it was time to eat again, so together we crashed through more alders into another bog where we stood knee deep in the water and browsed the bottom for tasty tidbits. I could she that she was definitely impressed with how long I could hold my breath. Every time I raised my head and blew out a nose full of water, she giggled.
It had been raining all day, but I not longer seemed to care.
It was dark before we had our fill of bog plants. She caught my eye and with a nod of her head motioned for me to follow. When you’re as big as a moose, you can crash through the woods, so we did, making our way toward a highway. There was a fence along the highway, but my lady friend knew where there was an opening. She had been here before.
It was late and there wasn’t much traffic. We heard a car off in the distance getting closer. She didn’t move. It sped past at about 70 miles per hour. The next time we heard an approaching car she nudged me and winked. The headlights came into view. The car was approaching at a high rate of speed. Suddenly, with a burst of speed, my lady friend ran out in front of the car. The driver stomped on his brakes and the car went into a skid. He pressed on his horn as the loud blaring mixed with the squealing tires. My lady friend timed it perfectly, and just as the car neared her perfect, shapely backside, she raced off the other side of the road.
The car came to a stop and I could hear the driver swearing and cursing at my lady friend. Meanwhile, she stood in the darkness on the other side where I could hear her laughing. After he drove off, she came back to my side of the road.
“Your turn,” she winked.
I wasn’t sure what I had just witnessed. That car missed her magnificent butt by only a few feet.
“You’re some crazy moose,” I said. “What was that all about?”
“It’s fun,” she winked.
It was that damn wink again, probably that same one Eve gave to Adam as she handed him the apple.
“Look,” I began. “I’ve eaten from the bottom of bogs with you. I’ve pooped in public and stood naked on the side of a road while having my picture taken. But, running in front of traffic on a dark highway is where I draw the line.
She looked at me with those big, liquid, seductive eyes, her naked body glistening in the rain. Then she grunted. Between the winking and the grunting it was hopeless.
The headlights of another car came into sight. But, being a first timer, my timing wasn’t as good.
Onto the highway I dashed, but I was early. The driver saw me and went into a skid. Then he tried to turn away and the car began to spin. The light from the headlights flashed across the trees on both sides of the road. For a moment I could see my lady friend watching as the beams passed her. Between the noise of the squealing tires and the horn and the lights spinning around, I was frozen. Then I dawned on me that I was standing in the highway about to get mowed down. With all my moosely strength I made a leap for the far side of the road. The car spun past. I looked back before jogging into the woods. The car stopped spinning, and after a few minutes drove off. I was shaking.
The crash and snapping of alders next caught my attention and I looked up to see my lady friend. Her eyes sparkled. I got a double wink and one of the sexiest grunts I’ve ever heard. She stepped up to me and nuzzled my nose. What an incredible rush. I forgot all about the car.
I didn’t know what would happen at the stroke of midnight, whether I’d still be a moose or not. At that moment I wanted to be a moose forever.
“Next month is the rut,” she smiled coyly.
I knew what that meant. My knees wobbled with the thought of September.
“Do you mean it?” I asked.
She gave me another wink and a low moaning grunt.
The rut is like being Hugh Heffner on Viagra at a college sorority party.
“How will I find you?” I asked.
“Just rub yourself in urine and butt your head against a few trees really hard and I’ll come to you,” she began to back away. “It’s late. I have to go.”
I watched her large, but perfect butt knock over a rotted birch tree as she swayed away.
The next morning it was still raining. I looked around the tent. Same swampy mess. I fell back on my pillow and promised myself that that would be the last time I’d drink alone in my tent.
The views and opinions in the Enterprise blogs are those of the author and are not neccessarily shared by Falmouth Publishing.
