I think the time has now come to talk about my family’s moose fetish. It dates from a holiday we took in Maine some years ago. We were there at the end of the season and the evenings were a bit too quiet. My father disappeared for a couple of hours to discover what distractions there might be. On his return, he announced that there was a nightclub somewhere in the woods offering Maine humour. My brother claimed this consisted of stories that began: ‘This one moose said to the other moose….’
Cue a series of increasingly contrived jokes involving moose during the rest of the holiday and then exchanges of moose-related objects, cards and stories for years afterward. You can probably imagine it all too well. It is possible to be over-moosed.
Moose are funny creatures, endearingly goofy sometimes. The males in particular look like they’ve been made up of parts left over from some other large creatures. Knowing the family history, my chap wooed me with a picture of an enormous bull moose with a full rack of antlers happily being harnessed to a plough. Apparently, the big guy hung out with the farmer’s oxen and wanted to do the same as they did. I’ve also been sent another cutting showing another large and amorous male clearly mistaking a statute of a bison for a female moose.
Moose fortunately are plentiful creatures, even though they are easy targets for hunters. I guess the amount of pot roast each supplies is such that few feel the need to kill in quantity. Reverting to my quest for my second career, I find it hard to see how it could involve moose. Although there are shops in Scandinavia that do nothing but, selling moose memorabilia would not be very fulfilling for long, so I fear this doesn’t take me further forward.
Time for more reflection. In the meantime, I’m going to send a donation to the World Society for the Protection of Animals as well as our Disasters Emergency Committee for the victims of Typhoon Haiyan.