Why February is the most dangerous month in Idaho

After a few months cooped up inside with a couple of feet of snow everywhere, one tends to stop thinking completely rationally. Completely normal I think...

The reason I say that? Oh... it's because of Wilbur of course. See, Wilbur, a rogue Moose that happens by every once in awhile, is a typical moose. I am not, apparently, a typical person. When a typical Moose meets up with an a-typical person, such as myself, well... things happen that really should not happen.

Maybe I'm over-thinking it. I'm sure everyone has stories from their past that might come back to haunt them on occasion. In ten years, this will just be one of those funny stories that help pass the time during something dreadfully important, yet incredibly boring. I can almost see the giggling faces now... Ah... laughter...

Ok, on with it. Here's the thing. When you first see a moose up close, it's a startling thing really. I mean, what a sight! Not many people see that sight, I must say. It's pretty darn special. You might already feel a connection with that moose, and well, maybe that explains why I acted the fool.

See, Wilbur is a normal moose. He was probably thinking, "I'll kill that thing if it does ANYTHING!!!!". Meanwhile, on planet me, I'm hearing love music and dancing on the shore of some beautiful beach, holding out an apple for him to munch on.

What happened next? Well, you guessed it. He ate it. And the next one. In fact, he ate all the apples, save 2. Then, he just stood there. I can tell you, I felt a little small just about that time. See, all that's between me and this huge fella is a miniscule layer of glass on the sliding glass door. And just about then is when I realized... Hey, this glass is pretty thin. Why, I'd bet money he could just walk right through it and kill me, lickety split. Then I had images of my life, all the best and worst moments, flash before me like a gigantic Rolodex. It was oddly not relaxing.

Meanwhile, Wilbur stared at me, and I gulped. My head was quite close to him already, my upper torso hanging out the door. Just when it seemed that this may go horribly wrong...

BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK comes Sly Cooper, the fearless but tiny pug/Jack Russell mix. He had been locked up so just this sort of thing didn't happen. Well, let me tell you, it certainly did. And I was Front Row watching the entire fiasco unfurl before my eyes.

It's weird how things slow way down when you're in a crisis. I remember hearing Sly bark, and realizing that he'd run past me and was right next to Wilbur. My eyes must have been the size of saucers by this time, because I was intensely focused on Wilbur. I figured Sly was a goner, and had already picked out a place to bury him, the poor bugger. I'd started working on his tombstone. Something like, "Here lies Sly, Killed by a rogue moose, cut down in his prime. He will be missed..."

Just then, a most curious thing happened. Wilbur, who up until now had a relatively benign look in his eyes, apparently quite satiated by the 5 pound sack of apples I'd lovingly handed one by one to him, took on an entirely different demeanor.

I'm assuming this is normal for a moose, since I'm no expert. Wilbur put his head down, his massive ears back, and the hair on his neck stood up. Then, he growled, well, more like a grumble really. Never before have I heard this sound, but it scared me.

Apparently, it was intended to scare Sly too, because it did. Sly went from hellion dog filled with fury to a slinking whimper in an instant. I've never seen anything like it. Sly slunk to the corner, completely silent, and then ran in a big circle around Wilbur, only to dash in the door behind me.

I thought, "Great, now he's going to kill me instead. Oh well, at least I hand fed a moose before I died." and mentally prepared for the end.

Somewhere along this process, it occurred to me that Wilbur wasn't killing me. Instead, he had regained that solemn expression of satiation, and maybe he was just wondering if I were going to give him those last two apples. I wasn't.

A long uncomfortable silence ensued.

Apparently Moose are much more patient than I am, because I lost interest and went upstairs. All this excitement made me take a pre-nap nap. And I dreamed about Moose, and it was good.