Mom was reading The Call of the Wild to me last night, and as luck would have it, we were visited by a real blizzard! It was time to get in touch with my Inner Carnivore.
Here's what greeted Uncle Buster and me Wednesday morning when we left in search of a caribou to eat:
Yikes! I'd never seen snow this deep! Uncle Buster reassured me that caribou can't travel very fast in deep snow and life was good...
The noble, predatory Alpha-wolf posed for a photo-op beside a glacier...
The tundra was littered with Chrysler carcasses. Uncle Buster told me about Mr. Darwin's great idea...the one about survival of the fittest. Uncle Buster recounted that the weakest critters had to be left behind so that the herd might live. We decided not to disembowel it and proceeded onward...
The howl curdled the blood of a nearby moose, causing it to faint and trigger an avalanche.
The glacier grew more treacherous...
I struggled to keep my footing.
Uncle Buster demonstrated the optimal "caribou-stalking" posture. He says that it's all in the attitude. One must look hungry, mean, lean, and stealthy!
And thus it came to pass that I decided that Uncle Buster had been Alpha-Wolf long enough!
I would challenge him in the deadliest of all lupine blood-sports: Buster-Ball in the Snow !
I had the chance to become Alpha, but in the end, I decided to give Uncle Buster back his precious ball.
In the meantime, Ms. Bailey appeared strolling leisurely down a crevasse in her Sunday-best, as though she were going to attend the premiere performance of Tosca.
The tufted titmice came to the window of the Inuit dwelling...
Uncle Buster and I struck camp, lit a fire, and curled up.
Life in the Yukon is certainly brutal.
More to report soon!
Your faithful correspondent,