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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Animal · #2275566
My Grandfather comes face to face with a bull moose.
It was hunting season. My grandparents were planning their yearly trip. He and my Grandmother always headed to Thessalon, Ontario in the fall. They would visit with relatives there. My grandmother enjoyed baking and chatting with my aunt. She loved visiting with her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. My Grandfather enjoyed heading out on treks to hunt with the menfolk. Not that he ever managed to shoot anything. I think he much preferred the companionship over the kills.

A week before they were due to leave, my grandfather took a break from the packing and last minute chores. He stood out on the grassy path that lead from the house to the barn, lighting his pipe and gazing out over the field. In the distance, he could see a dark shape lumbering through the pasture to the north. His eyes held and watched as the shape took focus.

A large bull moose heading his way. The antlers, a grand spectacle. As wide as the moose was tall.

My grandfather could only stand there and stare as the beast approached. It came up to the fence not ten feet from him and stopped. Bobbed its massive head and swiveled to look at my grandfather who could only stare. Pipe forgotten and held aloft.

Big brown eyes seemed to plead with my grandfather for protection. They shared that moment. Each marveling at the other before the beast moved off. The echo of gun fire in the distance.

It wasn't until the moose was almost to the road before my grandfather found his voice and called to my grandmother to come see. But the bull moose was gone into the forest on the other side of the gravel road before my grandmother managed to emerge from their house only a few feet behind him.

"If only I had my gun," he told my cousins in Thessalon the following week.

But I knew he had appreciated that interaction far more than any hunting expedition. He had a moment to commune with the great beast and I jokingly called him the 'moose whisper'. He would only grin around his pipe clamped between his teeth and wink at me. Our secret.

Word Count = 364.


This is a true story.

Writer's Cramp - due June 28, 2022
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