Big Mama, Ginger and Me
by Karen Cauble
Part One:
It was one of those days in early July you will remember well in January. I awoke at mid-morning; green grasses spangled with sparkling dew, flavored the breeze, as I peered out the bed room window. An adorable little moose calf about one month old, still gangly and unsure of life was munching on willows that bordered the lawn. I quickly ran to the other window and saw Big Mama, munching on Pushki flower bulbs with a few leaves attached. Amazing, I didn’t know moose ate Pushki other than nibbles on the new growth in spring. “Go for it! Eat your fill Big Mama,” I encouraged her.
Noting this charming, Big Mama and cute baby wildlife scene, was my spoiled, two ½ year old, 70 lb. Ginger dog. “MOOSE, MOOSE, MOOSE” she would have barked, but “NO BARK”, I commanded. Instead she used her inside ‘woof’ voice and went “moose, moose, moose” then silently, alertly, she observed with me. We were watching from the sliding glass window on the second floor deck. Meanwhile, Ginger had this kind of excited vibration thing going on in her throat, not a growl really, a gurgle maybe.
Big Mama had ambled around the cluster of Alders and Pushki onto and across the lawn. She headed down the drive way, crossed into the road, and stood on the middle yellow line about ten agonizing seconds; I know, because I counted the seconds. It is a well traveled road and drivers go too fast. She then crossed over and quickly went down the hill side, out of sight. “Oh Oh, trouble! Where’s the baby?” Observing back at the bedroom window, baby looked up seeming to sense, something was amiss. Mom wasn’t there. Then observing again from the deck, Ginger and I could see, Baby got his gangly long legs working into a little trot and was off to find Mom. The little calf trotted across the lawn, across the gravel drive way, across the adjacent lawn and then under the deck and lost to sight.
I would not allow Ginger her morning outing into the 70 foot by 40 foot fenced back yard, with a moose and her calf wandering about, and where did that baby go anyway? Still watching the front lawn area, Ginger and I observe Big Mama come up from the hill and cross the road with no hesitation. Being a good Mama she will find her calf. I am relieved; Ginger starts her throat warble again, but she doesn’t bark.
I tend to my morning coffee needs. After some five minutes and no sight of moose, I let Ginger out, down the back stairs to the yard below. Ginger starts barking. This is not a good sign.
To Be Continued ...
Karen Cauble, Owner/Operator
Alaska Time
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