It is normal for elk to bed down, at almost any time of day.

It is not normal for them to be unable to get up.

In the past few weeks we have come across about a dozen elk on one of our winter ranges that appear to be perfectly healthy, but cannot get up.

At all. Even if you approach close enough to touch them. To the point that a pair of coyotes set up camp by one live cow, sleeping less than five meters away from her and walking over and taking bites out of her rump and tail whenever they felt the urge.

And this is not due to weakness, fatigue or winter stress on the elk. We've put down six so far, with three sent to the lab. All three were alert and physically healthy (a fourth is freezing in the back of my truck tonight, awaiting transport to the lab).

The experts are stumped.

But they have a couple theories. Testing of which requires closer observation of the crippled animals, and fresher tissue samples than we have been able to deliver after a 110-mile drive. As in, almost immediately post-mortem fresh.

So that was my task Friday afternoon and evening. To locate at least one more of these downed elk for the veterinarian to observe, and then kill in order to collect fresh samples. In the hope that we can learn what is causing this strange malady, and prevent it from spreading to other members of her herd.

Locating her was all too easy.

Which scares you, because that makes you wonder how many others are out there in the sage and scrub, in the same condition.

So, tomorrow, or actually in about twelve hours from now, the vet and I will return to this elk cow. And if she is still there, still alive and still crippled, we will put her down and he will necropsy her on site. Collecting all the fresh samples he needs.

And then we will move over less than 100 meters and do it again, on her neighbor laying helpless in the next draw.

Happy valentine's day.