There are some game animals I just can’t warm up to. The moose is one of them. They’re ugly, ungainly, ungraceful, short-tempered and much, much larger than they need to be. But I’m from Oklahoma, where the moose are animated and foil crime with their rodent pals. My few encounters with real, wild moose have all come in northwest Montana, where the lumbering brutes always seem to be standing in the middle of the creek I’m hoping to fish.
Perhaps if I shot one I’d feel a little better about them, but if I ever do I’m leaving the bow at home and taking one of those massive guns David Petzal is always writing about. Why? Because if I had a bow in hand then sure as hell I’d end up in a situation like the one in this video.
And rather than stay remarkably calm and cool like the cat in the video, I’d break and run like a wee girl. And then I’d get flattened. Since I much prefer my current rotund profile to that of a quivering, twitching mass of gore, I’m just gonna stick to whitetails.