Tailing Miss Lily

Being a research facility, there are studies being conducted here that require data collection of one form or another. All of the moose are radio collared, making it easier to locate them within the pens using telemetry tracking. Moose that are accostumed to having people around (hence, the reason to acclimate them when they’re calves) make it easier for researchers to approach them and do the work that needs to be done.

Collection and analysis of the contents of fecal matter is one of the main ways researchers can tell what is going in (and subsequently, out) of a moose. Nutritional needs and other physiological actions can be determined through these samples. It’s the process of getting these samples that Annie and I were given the charge of doing one afternoon earlier this week.

We rode the ATV out to one of the pens, hooked up the radio tracking equipment, and located a relatively clear signal coming from a 4-year old cow named Lily. After walking for a time along well-established moose trails through a dense forest of birch, we cut off and picked our way across to a grassy opening, the ever-growing “beep!” “beep!” of the signal coming from the receiver as our guide. It was soon thereafter that Lily’s massive body came into view. She acknowledged us with a turn of her head, then proceeded to go right back to browsing on the young leaves and plant shoots around her.

Annie and I were under the impression that a moose poops about once an hour. Perfect. An easy locate and back in plenty of time to fix that chicken stir-fry for dinner.

We positioned ourselves as to give Lily a comfortable amount of room to browse (just what is the personal bubble space for a moose?) and allow us a clear view of her backside at all times. We then watched and waited.

Now I thoroughly enjoyed this. To be within 5 yards of an adult moose that is just going about her business was not in the least bit boring to me. Her height, body proportions, grace, and ability to bring down the upper branches of a birch with a single swing of her head were all awesome and interesting to observe.

The first hour went by quickly. Annie left and went back to help with the 7 p.m. feeding. I continued to tail Lily as she made her way around the pen. All the while she definitely knew I was there, but paid me no mind.

Hour two. Annie returns, surprised that I’ve yet to get the goods we were after. Lily continues to munch away.

Hour three. Lily gets tired and decides to bed down on the edge of a dry lakebed. After sitting there for a time, now feeling a bit exasperated by Lily’s lack of bathroom needs, Susan and Annie get hungry and this time I’m elected to make the run back up to the cabin, bringing back much-needed nourishment in the form of goat brie cheese and an appropriate pairing for an event such as this.

9:20 p.m. Lily gathers her enormous self up and starts to browse again. We can’t believe it. “Come on! Give it up, Lily!” Like many opportunities life affords, this is one we just couldn’t turn back on now. We were in it to win it. Not a chance we were going back empty-handed, er, Ziplocked. No way.

9:35 p.m. Victory is ours!

The rest of the data collection is probably best explained via these pictures, images that my students are absolutely going to love during one of my first science inquiry lessons this fall (even if they pretend not to).

Lily then escorted us back to the ATV and I got these pictures as I was climbing over the fence that separates two of the pens. She’s a beautiful moose with seemingly very slow digestion!