RIP Miss Moose

It's done. I got my first moose, but I don't know where she is. I wasn't prepared to be so emotional about it, but I am.

I started out late this afternoon after my b/f spotted her in an area we were hunting in the other day. It wasn't far from town, and I thought there was enough daylight left so we headed out, bow in hand, hoping to do it this time.

When we got there we looked everywhere, but she hid herself well. After combing the area for a while, we headed back for the truck. Even though we were officially finished for the day, I told my b/f that I had a feeling we were going to turn a corner and run into her. I no more than finished the sentence when it happened just as I thought it would. There she was standing near some trees just to the left of the road. She had a big funny face with some signs of gray. In some ways I thought she looked like a cartoon.

At that point I was having second thoughts again. It wasn't that I doubted my shot, or that I even feared being trampled anymore. I just didn't enjoy the thought of what I was about to do.

In hunting there's not enough time to think about these things, and there's even less time to be emotional. Feelings shoved aside, I jumped on a stump to take a shot. I must have hesitated too long. She trotted off.

We ran further up the road and spotted her again. I didn't have a stump this time so I had to stand as tall as I could to shoot over the tall ferns and bushes. I hit her somewhere near the shoulder and she ran off. We tracked her for a while, but every time her funny face popped up I began to lose heart. I took a few more shots at her, but missed.

She led us through some crazy terrain I wasn't ready for. She was definitely the better athlete during this whole chase scene. I was pretty clumsy... my shoe fell off, I was stumbling over sticks, tripping over grass taller than me, and she was getting farther and farther away.

The last time I saw her she was limping her way into a tree line. We started into the woods, but didn't go far. It wasn't quite dark, but the sun was sinking fast. When it was obvious she lost us, we moped back to the truck and I sat there and cried.

There's a reason I'm not a hunter. I wasn't ready for her to live that long after the shoot. I wasn't ready for her to run way away with an arrow stuck in her. I wasn't ready to feel this horrible. In a lot of ways it felt like a funeral. I kept picturing her in my mind. I was thinking about all the good things about her, how she looked beautiful and funny at the same time, the way she kept looking back at me as she was running off.

I don't know if it's normal to feel this way, or if men will ever admit it, but I'm really having a hard time knowing she's out there. It's after midnight, I should be asleep, but I won't rest until I find her. I have some friends and relatives who are going to go out with me first thing tomorrow morning. I hope I find her.