🎤 Moose Musings: Live From Pinebark Glen, Montana
“A Moose’s Life… With Commentary”
From the Journal & Comedy Routine of M. Moose, Esq.
Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, squirrels, and that one porcupine who always sits in the front row. I am M. Moose, Esq., broadcasting live from the majestic wilderness of Pinebark Glen, Montana, where the mountains are tall, the winters are rude, and the tourists think I’m a lawn ornament.
Let me tell you about life as a real moose.
1. Breakfast Is a Full‑Time Job
Every morning I wake up and immediately begin eating. Not because I’m hungry — but because I’m a moose. It’s what we do. I eat willow branches, birch twigs, and occasionally someone’s decorative shrubbery. If you don’t want me to eat it, don’t plant it. That’s in the Bible somewhere. Probably.
2. My Antlers Are Not Wi‑Fi Antennas
Tourists keep asking if they can “get a signal” by standing near me. No, Karen, you cannot. These antlers are for display, intimidation, and occasionally hanging Christmas lights when the woodland choir gets festive.
3. Winter Is a Personal Attack
Montana winters are no joke. The snow gets so deep I once lost a whole leg in it. Don’t worry — I found it again. But I did quote Psalm 69:2 while searching: “I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing…” Tell me that isn’t a moose verse.
4. Humans Think They’re Quiet
You ever see a hiker trying to sneak up on wildlife? They crunch every leaf, snap every twig, breathe like a malfunctioning accordion, and then whisper, “Do you think he sees us?” Ma’am, I heard you park the car.
5. The Rut: Nature’s Reality Show
Every fall, the bull moose gather to impress the ladies. It’s like America’s Got Talent, except instead of singing, we grunt loudly and smash our heads into trees. I once got a 9.5 from a panel of rabbits. Marla Moose gave me an A+. I fainted.
6. Speaking of Marla Moose…
Every time I see her, my heart floats up like a helium balloon at a church picnic. My eyes go googly. My knees wobble. I become a 1,200‑pound bowl of emotional oatmeal. Behold, Proverbs 18:22 in action.
7. Predators Are Rude
Wolves think they’re sneaky. They’re not. I can hear them whispering strategy like middle‑schoolers planning a prank. “You go left.” “No, YOU go left.” “Is he looking?” Yes. I am looking. And no, you may not have a moose snack today.
8. I Am a Moose of Faith
When life gets tough — when the snow is deep, the wolves are chatty, and Marla Moose walks by looking radiant — I remember Psalm 121:1: “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills…” Which is easy, because I live in the hills.
9. I’ve Learned to Laugh at Myself
I once got my antlers stuck in a hammock. I once fell into a pond while trying to look majestic. I once mistook a scarecrow for a rival bull and challenged it to a duel. Humility is a spiritual gift.
10. Life Lesson From a Talking Moose
If a moose can survive Montana winters, awkward encounters, falling into ponds, and the emotional hurricane known as Marla Moose… then you can survive whatever you’re facing too. God gives strength to the weak, humor to the weary, and joy to those who choose to see it.
As it is written: “The joy of the Lord is your strength.” — Nehemiah 8:10
And that, my friends, concludes tonight’s Moose Musings. Tip your squirrels. Drive safely. And remember: If you see a moose — don’t pet it. We’re majestic, not cuddly.
Susan Barker Nikitenko 2026© NMRMPMPBKBANNABENCOPPASTORGE675876 #3
💘 From the Journal of M. Moose, Esq.
Valentine’s Edition — “Marla Moose and the Melting of My Winter Blues”
Let it be known throughout Pinebark Glen, Montana, that I, M. Moose, Esq., a creature of considerable antler span and emotional depth, have officially fallen victim to the most powerful force known to moosekind: Valentine’s Day feelings.
It all began on a frosty February morning. The kind where your breath freezes mid‑air and your hooves stick to the ground like you’ve been super‑glued by nature. I was trudging through the snow, muttering about winter’s poor attitude, when suddenly — there she was.
Marla Moose.
Stepping out from behind a snow‑dusted pine like the heroine of a woodland romance novel no one asked for but everyone needed.
Her fur shimmered. Her antlers sparkled. Her eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings dipped in stardust.
And I, noble bull of the Bitterroot Mountains, immediately produced googly eyes so large they could have been used as satellite dishes.
I tried to greet her with dignity. What came out was, “Huh‑bluh‑happy‑Valen‑moose‑day.” She smiled. I melted. The snow melted. The entire hillside may have shifted slightly.
We walked together along the creek, which was frozen solid except for one tiny patch that gurgled like it was cheering us on. She told me she liked my antlers. I told her I liked her… everything. She laughed. I fainted internally.
At one point, she slipped on the ice, and I caught her with the grace of a moose who has practiced this moment in his imagination for months. She said, “You’re strong.” I said, “I lift logs.” She said, “Why?” I said, “Emotional preparation.”
We shared willow branches. We watched the sunset paint the mountains pink. And I remembered Proverbs 18:22: “Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord.” I’m not saying Marla Moose is the good thing… but I’m also not not saying it.
As we parted ways, she gave me a small heart-shaped leaf she’d found on the trail. I have placed it in my journal under the heading: “Evidence of Mutual Affection — Preserve Carefully.”
And so, dear reader, I declare this truth: Winter may be cold. Snow may be rude. But love — moose love — is warmer than a Montana sunrise.
And behold, my winter blues have officially been replaced with Valentine’s Day pinks
Susan Barker Nikitenko 2026© NMRMPMPBKBANNABENCOPPASTORGE675876 #3
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