The Bear Dogs of Katahdin: And Other Recollections of a Baxter State Park Ranger

The mother moose was standing by her three-week old calf. She gave me a cold hard stare and then laid her ears back. I could actually see the hair rise up on the back of her neck just before she put her head down and charged. Barely into my second month as a Baxter State Park ranger and a big animal was angry and running straight at me. She could kill me or cause serious injury with one fl ail of her hooves. This was surreal. I was a ranger, for Pete’s sake. How was I going to explain this in my weekly report?