Harassing wildlife isn't an amoosing thing to do

Who is smarter, the moose that have invaded Sandpoint or the town's residents who pay taxes, have jobs and have evolved from single-celled sea creatures?

Before you answer, check out this example.

A caring citizen called the Bee Monday to report that a moose on Euclid was the center of attention. It wasn't the people surrounding the moose with their cameras that concerned her. The moose was clearly agitated and alarmed.

No, it wasn't the large two-legged creatures with cameras that worried the caller, it was the smaller two-legged creatures who kept running up to the moose to pet it that struck fear in the caller.

Every neighborhood in this region now has a resident moose. A few weeks back we had one in our front yard that was peering in our front windows while it chewed on our rosebushes.

This same moose has been fed by some neighbors but for the most part has been given a wide berth.

Why anybody would want to mess with a seven-foot-tall, 1,100-pound unpredictable animal remains a moosetery to me.

Moose operate by instinct. Humans mostly by caffeine and what they see on TV.

We have heard stories of a moose running full speed into a locomotive or a Forest Service truck because the animal thought it under attack. It's not a stretch to think a provoked moose will turn on a kid trying to pet it.

As the snow begins to recede, the moose will retreat to the less populated regions of North Idaho. We, with opposable thumbs, owe it to ourselves to stay away from our visitors until they leave.

Until that happens, we should all remember (and perhaps put on bumperstickers): "Unless you want to vamoose, don't play with the moose."

David Keyes is the publisher of the Daily Bee.