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Friday, June 3, 2011

I Got The Sugar

*** continued from previous post ***


Yet, spectacular as the view was, this wasn't what had, for lack of a better term, put your mom all in a bunch. There, right below us, and I do mean right below - I could have spit and hit them - not that I would, that's disgusting - was the much touted 'wallow', and a Moose and her calf frolicking about in the mud.

"Oh my god! How cute is that?"

Mom jerked the camera out of my hands, and proceeded to take well over 9000 pictures of mother and child in various poses. It was the equivalent of a Canadian Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. Minus the beautiful girls. And the warmth. And the beach was replaced by mud. Other than that - spot on!

As a side note, what is it with baby animals? Somewhere, in our genetic makeup is the trigger that transforms anything under a year old into cutest frackin' thing on the face of the earth. Really. Think about what I just said. Name me one totally ugly, disgusting baby animal. No, even Naked Mole Rats are adorable, so don't go there. Snakes are precious. Baby opossums make me weep. Okay, I've seen baby pictures of Rush Limbaugh at 9 months - that may be the exception. If we could isolate and harness the power of that infantile essence, there would be no lonely, ugly people in bars. What a gift to humanity that would be.

I stood there, slack jawed, my head about to explode in a cavalcade of candy-canes and daffodils from the damned cuteness of this tiny, adorable, and long-legged wee beastie.
"Oh look! The mother is nudging it out of the mud!"

That's was it. I now needed insulin. We spent the next few minutes in a chorus of 'ooooohhhhsss and awwwwws', punctuated by the occasional gasp of delight.
Another quick side note: maybe it's just me, but I've noticed that cuteness has its limits. About 5 minutes and the miracle becomes mundane. ‘Yes, yes. . .the baby is doing a jig to the soundtrack of 'Oklahoma'. Yes, the top hat and cane are adorable. I told you that 3 minutes ago. Definitely cute. Yep. So . . . what's for lunch?’

As we stood there, we saw other moose make their way through the meadow to the wallow. It's possible that they had to punch a time clock hidden amongst the trees. There were deer as well. And what I now believe to be a lost hiker, but at the time thought to be a hobo seeking a therapeutic mud bath. Man, that guy could hold his breath for a long, long time. I think now that we probably should have reported that, but hindsight is 20 - 20, no?

*** the journey continues ***

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