“Hello?”
“Hello. This is Observer 43 of the Iowa Moose Patrol (IMP) calling in with a spotting report.”
“Go ahead, Observer 43.”
“I just seen a moose.”
“Now, now.....let’s follow protocols. How many mooses did you see?”
“One. At least I think it was one. They kind of all look alike to me.”
“Keep your prejudices to yourself, Observer 43. What was the moose doing?”
“He seemed to be wandering about aimlessly.”
“Oh, a Minnesota moose. Was he wearing any Al Franken decals?”
“Not that I could see.”
“Well, good job, Observer 43. Anything else to report?”
“Yes. I saw four polar bears out by the interstate hitch hiking.”
“Was one of them wearing a blue evening gown?”
“Why.....yes.”
“Jerry! This guy has seen that bear in the evening gown. Sir, whatever you do, do not attempt to stop those bears.”
“What should I do?”
“I don’t know. Ask her to dance.”
“You want me to dance with a polar bear?”
“Hey. It’s Saturday night in rural Iowa. What else is there to do?”
That’s funny too !
One morning, as I drove about 5 miles from the Whitefield airport, I encountered a huge bull moose on the dead run towards the airport. He looked really pissed, it was rut season.
I proceeded to the airport to see if George Graber was up to his old tricks again.
George was a retired airline pilot and retired moose hunting guide. He flew a small plane out of the Whitefield airport for fun.
A few minutes before I saw the moose, he had spotted it from the air, landed, and bet some guys around the hangar he could call it in.
A few minutes after I arrived, the big bull came crashing through the woods, heading strait for the hangar, snorting and pawing.
We all ducked inside for safety.
After trapping us in the hangar for a half an hour or so, the moose left.
These days, George is in that great hangar in the sky.
I used to enjoy taking him for rides in our Unimog on obscure roads he knew about and getting him talking about his old guideing days.