Admit it. This scares you. |
Gramma Berg's house had a sunroom.
A wonderful spot.
All windows.
And one permanent tenant.
The sunroom was wonderful.
The tenant wasn't. At least to a very
small girl.
It was large.
Dark brown.
With great, glassy eyes, a huge nose, a
wooly beard.
And large ears.
Oh, yes, and an enormous pair of
antlers.
A moose.
The quite obvious fact that it wasn't
alive made no difference to its terror factor.
I was certain that, if I went into that
room, the great creature would blink its eyes and 'get me'.
Okay, obviously I didn't think that
through.
The creature possessed no visible
limbs, and for all of my life, had resided in the same place on the
wall.
Just exactly how it was supposed to
'get me' we'll never know.
But the truth remains, it terrified me.
And knowing this, my cousins made great
sport of daring me to go into the sunroom.
Something which inevitably sent me
screaming to some moose-less part of the house.
I loved Grammas house.
The moose and I tolerated each other.
So long as he kept his place, and I
could see that place from a distance, we got along fine.
Kinda like a large spider.
But that is another story.
After Gramma passed, the moose was
donated and hung where it could scare scores of other people.
Moving forward fifty years . . .
Several members of my family were
holidaying in Banff, Alberta, this summer.
We spent a week scrambling about the
mountains and wandering through the townsite.
We took the kids to see the 'stuffed
animal place'.
Or Banff Museum, as it is officially
named.
It houses hundreds of perfectly
preserved birds and animals native to the Banff area.
Many of which were present when the
museum opened.
In 1903.
On the second floor, it is quite
possible to get up close and almost personal with the head of Sir
Donald.
A bison.
Several of us were standing, looking at
the great animal.
My six-year-old granddaughter peeked
out from behind me.
“He scares me,” she whispered,
shivering.
“But he's dead,” I said. “He
can't hurt you.”
“He's scary,” she maintained.
Quite suddenly, I remembered Gramma's
moose. And trembling in fear and delight as my cousins dared me to go
into his sunroom.
Full circle.
Personally, I believe that when something is done with it's head it should be given a decent burial.
ReplyDeleteTotally agree with you. Who decided that hanging pieces of animals on walls was a good idea? And they're scary.
DeleteSeeing those stuffed heads always makes me wonder what people did with the rest of the animal...?
ReplyDeleteKinda like in that one 'The Great Race' scene, where the rest of their moose is on the other side of the wall...
Hmmm . . . good point.
DeleteP.S. I love that scene! And that movie!
Isn't it awesome when you have a moment like that, a reminder of your own childhood:)
ReplyDeleteI love those moments!
DeleteI love where your stories go Diane, I too would be scared of a moose tenant! Thanks for linking up at NOBH. Every blessing, Kelly
ReplyDelete