Ulysses considered him for a moment, then went back to wooing the Dodge. Graham went still, partially out of habit but also from respect for the six-foot span of antlers crowning the animal’s head. When Graham rose to his feet, the bull moose swung his massive head in his direction. Whose great idea had it been to install a jukebox? That was just asking the customers to stay even longer. You know this is weird, right?”ĭraining his root beer, Graham listened to the volume inside the diner grow louder. “You and I are going to have a talk one of these days. The truck had lost two door handles this way, and Graham had long since given up replacing the passenger side mirror. Ulysses rubbed his heavy body against the passenger side door, scratching his shoulder and making deep, guttural huffing noises of appreciation. So Graham’s truck always smelled like buns. Graham didn’t have the storage space in his diner’s freezer to make this a weekly supply run, and bread was far too expensive to ship into town when he could buy it locally. Which was understandable-Graham liked them too-but Ulysses was taking this to a whole other level.įor whatever reason, the moose was obsessed with the smell of the fresh baked bread he picked up from the local bakery every day. Long, wet streaks of moose goo smeared on glass still crusty from the previous day’s love affair.
“Ulysses, we do this every day, buddy.” Resting his arms on his thighs, he watched the fifteen-hundred-pound bull moose press his nostrils to the window of Graham’s abused Dodge, snuffing along the seal.
If it just weren’t for the moose trying to make love to his pickup truck fifteen feet away. A moment to sit on the back steps of his diner, take a break, and sip a root beer. Graham couldn’t have asked for a more peaceful moment to enjoy his hometown of Moose Springs. High above them both, the sun-kissed peaks of the Chugach Mountains glittered with their snowy caps, tree lines receding into grays and browns of weathered boulders.
The bald eagle soared overhead, turning lazy circles against a backdrop of rich forested Alaskan mountainside.Īs luck would have it, Graham Barnett had seen this same eagle on the way to work that morning.
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