I never knew what was happening to my pies, until one faithful day in April. I live alone in a small cabin in a quaint little town in northern Maine. Nestled snugley in the woods, is my small, two room cabin, where I live and operate my home business. I'm a pie baker. I bake pies for school events, church sales, bake-offs - anything I can get my pies into - to make a little change. And, at the risk of bragging, I make a darn good pie. I'm pretty well-known in the community for my decadent desserts, and I'm always getting approached by friends and neighbors with suggestions and recipes on how to make my pies better. Some I consider some I disregard.

Well, every April, when the sun finally starts to melt the snow, and the first blossoms start to bud on the trees, and the air is crisp and fresh with the smell of life and rebirth, people start to wonder, "Where is the pie?". And coincidentally, April happens to be the month of the town fair. Now this town fair is my bread and butter... maybe my crust and cream is a better way to put it. Lets just say I do a lot of business in April. And I count on that business to sustain me until the holiday season, which is the other busy time of the year, for me and my pies. So I start baking like mad. I bake and I bake until I can't bake any more, and then I bake some more. I think last year I made about 200 pies, and at 8 dollars a piece (I'll let you do the math), that's a nice pice of change. I have a large walk in freezer where I keep the pies until they are ready for their big day.

So this year I had it all planned out to perfection. I had an early start and I was stock-pilling pies at a rapid rate, until something strange started happening. Well, you see, once I bake a pie I have to wait until it cools all the way before I put it in the freezer, otherwise the top will freeze while the inside is still hot, and when you reheat it, no good. So I have a system. I have a bunch of foldable tables that I keep out in the back yard, which I use for my set-up when I sell pies. I just keep them out back, and cool the pies on them until they go in the freezer. And I have a four foot chicken wire fence around my yard to keep deer and other animals away from my pies and my garden and what not.

Well, one day, I started noticing that some pies were disappearing! This was the strangest thing, because I live in the middle of nowhere. If a car is coming up the dirt road I know well in advance before it gets to my house; and I have a clear view of the road from my kitchen window. I knew it couldn't have been an animal because of the fence. But sure enough, pie after pie started to turn up missing. And other pies that got left behind had strange holes poked in them, that I couldn't seem to explain it. Now this was really cutting into my profit margin, so I decided to do a steak-out - or pie-out - as I liked to call it. I put out the bait, my favorite apple pie - the best you ever tasted - and I waited. I waited and I waited and I waited some more... but nothing. I'd go back to baking and when i finished a pie I'd go to put it outside with the others and sure enough, missing pies! Well, I was perplexed. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what was happening to my pies. I decided to invest in a little surveilance equipment. I got the camera and the monitor and everything. I was determined to catch this pie thief red handed.

I got it home and I set it up and I was ready to go. I put out the bait and I went about my business like I didn't have a care in the world. And later when I went to check on the pies, sure enough they were all gone! I quickly got out the tape and rewound it to see what the camera had captured, and when i say it I was in disbelief. The biggest moose you ever saw in your life, came strolling gingerly into my yard! He easily straddled the four foot fence without breaking stride, and as silently as a mouse, helped himself to my pies! Now I've lived in Maine all my life, and I know we have moose, but I've never heard of any eating pies before. But sure enough, this moose was a pie lover, just like anyone else. And as I watched in disbelief at his audacity, and sneakiness, I noticed something else too. The tips of his antlers were all stained purple! And when I saw him, on tape, eating the pies I knew why. When he bent down to nibble away his antlers would poke holes in the surrounding pies, and the filling would stain his antlers purple! Well I just thought this was the funniest thing I ever saw. And although I was a little annoyed, I couldn't help but be flattered too, that this moose loved my pies. So we came to an arangement. I started putting two pies from each batch outside the yard for the moose, who I named Crusty, and he never bothered the other pies again. But if you ever are in northern Maine, and you see a moose with purple tipped antlers, you'll know its Crusty. Cut him a slice for me, will you? Huckleberry is his favorite.