Julia and I had seen some wildlife in the weeks we’d been traveling through the Canadian Maritimes. An eagle here. A deer or two there. A grouse.
For the most part, I’d been counting on Miss Julia to spot the wildlife. Left to my own devices, I’m as blind as Mr. Magoo, whose whole schtick (If you remember. You do remember, don’t you?) was his oblivious bumbling into one catastrophe after another.
That’s me, Ms. Magoo. Endearing, but unobservant.
So, we’d seem some wildlife, but nothing to raise the blood pressure–until we got to Prince Edward Island. No sooner had we pulled into the national park than a fox trotted by like a camper on the way to the laundromat. This caused some jostling in the car as Julia lunged across the seat, her sumo-sized Nikon and lens-on-steroids grazing my ear.
But I had the driver’s side advantage. Ha!
So we were pretty excited. We’d only been on the island a couple hours and had already maxxed-out our wildlife-sighting karma.
But you just never know about karma.
The next day, I was chuffing along another easy and popular hike when a fox casually wandered out. She sniffed around, strolling along toward me.
By now, I’m fumbling with my camera, trying to hold still and expecting this little pas de deux with nature to evaporate momentarily.
But the fox just keeps strolling toward me, pretending that she had the trail all to herself. I start snapping pictures. (Did I ever consider doing a video? I did not.)
The fox comes to within ten feet of where this fool blind person is fumbling with her gadget. She stops and looks me right in the eye. I can see her little teeth. She is sizing me up. I know she wants a handout, but that’s just not my MO. (I never feed wildlife–not even those cute, little chipmunks that will rip your finger off if you eat in front of them.)
Then she slipped into the bush. Just like that, and I stood with my mouth open. Boy, did I have something to tell Julia.
She wasn’t impressed.