Elk’s Blessing

When I was in kindergarten, our class took a field trip to the second saddest zoo in town. A smattering of animals on cement floors surrounded by cyclone fencing. Two timber wolves continuously paced their small enclosure, circling and circling, then stopping and staring north.

I didn’t notice the wolves until I was much older. In kindergarten, I liked to go to the zoo to see the bears. Usually they were sleeping, but sometimes they woke up and batted a ball around their cage. They were little black bears. I never knew where they came from.

In a small fenced field next to a primeval forest, there was a group of elk and deer. They usually stayed over on the other side, away from the parking lot. They lounged. Of the animals there, they seemed the most content.

On this autumn day, we watched the deer. We tried to get them to come to us, holding out our little empty hands. The deer ignored us. The deer always ignored us.

Then, an elk turned and looked at me. He climbed to his feet with a groan, and walked over. My friends backed away, and I froze as this huge bull loomed over me. He leaned his head down, and breathed on my head, “Chuff, Chuff Chuff.”  His breath was warm and wet.

I felt safe with this elk. I stood there and he stood there, together. After a respectable time, he turned and walked back to his herd, and I watched until a teacher took my hand and walked me to the picnic shelter.

I don’t claim to know why this elk bull chose to do this. I only know at that moment, this old boy leaned down to breathe on a little girl. Blessings come when we don’t expect them, from places unknown for reasons we can only guess.

When people ask how I got my start in animal communication, I think it was here.