3 eyed parrot
From the browsing, copying and pasting of Winkey the three eyed parrot

“I will warren you This story is gruesome,

This story is true,

and not for the faint of heart.

Let me think now, it was back in the early summer of

a year within my lifetime! And we were heading up North

in a big Chevy Ram van, with all the trimmings

even a VCR, and TV. On to Whitehorse land of Sam McGee

we were going. And a gorgeous path it was. Filled with

wildlife, wild trees, wild mountains, and wild air.

For past the edge of the road, which was as a path in places

it was the utter wild of the wilderness, cept for the

odd logging road and camp here and there. And what they were calling

towns along that road were basically a gas a food stop

with a phone to call for help when your vehicle broke down.

Some of those mountains were so steep they were uphill

going down them. And the trees so big, they looked as if they

stretched tall enough to reach and touch the clouds.

Long the road, tall the sunsets, lofty the trees, and

floating with the stars appeared the mountains peaks.

as each summit of each hill on the road is reached,

it is as a new post card picture. It is this that is the true

gold of the north, that many a Klondike did not search for

but found. The kind of gold you can not hold in your pocket,

but only in your mind. It is this that is forever, this ability

to find this true gold in our everyday lives, Those things of which we

smile fondly of in remembering.

Well there we were just coming up to the town with the signpost forest.

The signpost forest is a whole bunch of signposts from all over

the place! it is quiet a site, to sight! All those different sign

posts on the poles all over the place.

Yep, we were going along, I was in the passenger seat of the van,

dad was driving. The road had about a 15 foot drop off,

on either side, on an angle of about 45 degrees. With large bush’s all

along the shoulder of the road, up to 8 feet high and 6 feet wide.

We were going along at the speed limit, as the van was equipped with cruise

control. Then just as we were coming up to one of them bush’s, A moose

jumped out right on to the road in front of us, trying to cross

to the other side. It wasn’t more than 20 feet

away and as dad hit the brakes and we started to s l o w l y go around the

moose, I started to breath a sigh of relief. Then the second moose jumped

out right in front of us and proceeded to cross the road. Well I tell you

I never saw a finer example of driving done in all my life except for once

and thats another story. As I, in the passenger seat kept seeing that

mooses eyes, getting closer and closer, no matter how much them

brakes screeched, and no matter how much the van

kept turning towards the ditch, did have visions of the moose, trying to

do a dance in our laps, and was wondering would it be a square dance, or

a waltz, or maybe even a tango, or one of them new fangled break dances!

As I was wondering how to dance with a moose, as that was a feat

I had never done before, the mooses eyeballs came right up not even 2 inches

away from the windshield right in front of me, the van e v e r s o s l o w ly

turned a little bit more, and the moose hit the quaterpanel

of the van where I was sitting with a resounding THWACK!, then there was a

thump crash thump, as the two tires ran over its legs breaking three of them.

We screeched to a stop. We got out. We look back at the moose.

It was mooing and bellowing like a human in pain. Th e

other moose was off in the trees on the other side of the road, running

for its life. I do not think any one ever saw that moose again.

But the moose we had hit was in grievous pain. 3 broken legs, a bruised shoulder

at least, and who knows what else. Well the traffic all started stooping. We had

nothing to end the mooses pain, being just tourists. And neither did

the people in the couple of cars that had stopped. as the moose was thrashing about

in pain in the middle of the road. Then a big truck stopped. The trucker rolled down

his window, and saw what had happened, we told him the story. And he said he could

solve that mooses problems. I thought as every one else did that he was going

to get a rifle out or something. But nope, he climbed out of the cab

of the truck, opened up his tool box on the side. And said “I got a sixteen pound

sledge hammer.” Well I was aghast at that, and said “well we hit the moose, so I

guess I could do that horrible job,” and ask if I could borrow his sledgehammer.

Well he took a look at me, and I think he saw my nice tourist clothes on or something

and he said well no I can do that I got my work coveralls on, which he did,

and they were covered with oil and stuff. And he added, beside, its my sledge

hammer, and I’ve done this before. Well I couldn’t argue with that, and told him I

would help in any way I could, so we walked over to the moose. it was fairly ghastly

and horrible the death of the moose. The truck driver had to swing that sixteen

pound sledge hammer about 15 times. But it only took about 1 minute, and the

moose was in no more pain.

All the damage done to the van was a dented quarter panel, a cracked running board,

and one broken head light, the damage to us was far worse. And the damage done the

moose was the ultimate. the taking of its life. Yes it was murder, that killing of the

moose by our van hitting it, and the truck drivers part. But it was an accidental

murder, that we did all we could to avoid doing. Heck I was even ready to dance with

a moose in the hope it would not die. And thats why I thanked the moose. For it taught

me that life is an important thing, and that we should do all we can to avoid

harming others, even when its just a moose. We stopped and told the RCMP about the moose

and where it was, and they said they would just leave it there, as me and the trucker had

hauled it off the road once it was dead.

The rest of the trip was not as eventful as that early evening was. except for the guy

at the service station who could not believe we had hit a moose and suffered so little

damage. On the way back we stopped where we had hit the moose, and all that was left

was some bones of the skeleton. For the crows and wolves had feasted upon that moose. And

it looked to me, that like us, those crows and wolf’s had also gotten some of that

true gold of the North, a fond memory of the tourist’s who supplied a feast.”

Good thing says Winkey that it was not a pirate that hit the moose. the pirate would have taken the moose, and sold al it it, down to the bones that the forests would have reclaimed. And then all those crows and wolves would ahve gone humgry that winter.