These are pictures of the cow and adorable calves that visited last night. They fed in the raspberry patch while I sat on the porch taking pictures.
In two of the photos the cow has spotted something disturbing in the lower part of our property. Her ears strain forward as she listens. She gathers the little ones and runs to a safer spot. It might have been a bear or another moose, but she wanted to keep the twins away from it.
Her straining ears remind me of a time I was visiting a cow moose with brand new twins and thought I was in for a stomping.
The cows were often too exhausted to look for high quality browse after giving birth so I brought an armful of willow, a favorite food, for this one to eat while I sat on a log at the edge of her calving area, a small clearing in the trees and brush, to watch the calves.
They had been born the day before and were all legs, wobbly, innocent and curious about the world. They smelled and tasted everything around them, cautiously working their way towards me. The little male, the bolder of the two, clumsily approached, sniffing my hands, my cap, my clothes, pressing his velvety soft nose against me. The shyer female kept a safer distance watching with big brown eyes, batting her impossibly long dark lashes. The world was quiet but for their snuffles and snorts, their mother's quiet chewing of leaves and the low hum of insects.
I was sitting still as possible for fear of startling them, especially the big cow, and all was going well until the little female stumbled with a startled cry. The cow became immediately alert. Recognizing my vulnerability I was trying my best to look as non-threatening as possible but every part of that moose's body now suggested evil intent.
Her previously relaxed demeanor was gone. Muscles tensed, ears straining forward, eyes beginning to blaze, she took a few threatening steps in my direction.
I was about to get stomped. I could try to run, an action inviting disaster, or hold my ground and hope for a bluff charge.
The moose was growing more agitated. I held my ground, sitting absolutely still on the log while she charged straight at me... and flew over the log, nearly hitting me as she hurtled by. She had spotted another moose and was driving it out of the area. I hadn't offended her at all. In fact she left me with the calves while she browsed a bit.
I visited several more times in the days before she finally led the twins away to abandon the calving area. I later saw them out in the bush and the little male walked right up to me. We sniffed nose to nose, then he returned to his mother and all three disappeared into the alder. He would never approach again.
