So I started walking every morning...picked up the CRUMB which is the Bread Loaf daily paper. I'm in the middle of a meadow on the edge of the woods when I read this sentence:
DO NOT PET THE BABY BEARS OR BABY MOOSE AS THEIR MOTHERS WILL PROBABLY (MOST LIKELY) WITH CERTAINTY ATTACK YOU.
Well it may have been worded not quite so strongly but that's what I thought I read.
I took off running back to the campus. Then I screeched to a stop.
Don't bears take running away as a sign of weakness? I started to tip toe away.
Then I heard a sound.
A moose sound.
Well a bird really, but it could have been a moose.
I decided to jog really REALLY fast.
When I reached safety I mentioned my fears to hardy and forest-smart Vermonters.
"Pooh!" they said. "We've not seen any bear or moose around here."
I breathed a sigh of relief.
"But you have to be on the look out for ticks," they said."Those pests will get into anything."
"TICKS???!!!" My voice got all squeaky and I started peeling up my pants leg and examining anything that looked tick-like.
It was hard as I haven't ever seen a tick. Most of what I picked off myself was fluff balls from my black socks. One can't be too careful...
I don't walk in the woods in the mornings anymore. Instead I'm walking along highway 125.
Large diesel spewing trucks I can handle.
Ticks I can't.