Growing Up Moose

Regular readers have already seen this blog's glossy coverage of the moose demographic. That's an important part of the story and not to be taken lightly. Friend of Befouled Jennifer, though, is concerned that the seamier side of moose life is not properly understood. Point well taken. Let's take a visit to that other side of the tracks.
















Doris

Doris, shown here awaiting trial on charges of cranberry possession, has spent much of her short life behind bars. Abandoned by her father at an early age, she dropped out of school shortly after becoming pregnant with the first in a series of illegitimate calves. Despite the best efforts of a parade of social workers, Doris has never held a job for more than three weeks and shows little interest in settling down.





















Stanley

If you look closely enough, you can see the three teardrops tattooed next to Stanley's right eye. Each one represents a kill, the result of a vicious turf war between Stanley's crew and a gang of knife-wielding whitetail. Although he was born into a comfortable middle-class family, an early taste for malt liquor started his long, downhill slide. When not brawling with his mates, Stanley can typically be found running numbers or shaking down neighborhood widows for loose change. Local law enforcement officials don't expect Stanley to see his next birthday.















Jane

The inspiration for Jane's Addiction's song "Jane Says," this lost soul has been working the streets of British Columbia as long as she can remember. Her dead eyes belie the smile she uses to entice visiting conventioneers. Numerous convictions for petty theft, loitering, and solicitation charges have left her virtually unemployable in the straight world.


Desperate to avoid confronting these hard issues, society too often tries to sweep them under the rug. Until we grab them by the antlers, however, we cannot hope to make progress. These stories are brutal, but they are also reality.