When a young moose, looking like an awkward horse, showed up in our front yard one May morning, we were delighted but didn't bother to look around for Mother Moose. We assumed she was probably about to give birth and needed to focus her energies on caring for the newborn, not for a yearling who already knew how to feed and fend for himself.

Despite his size, he was clearly a young fellow, slender, brown, and definitely goofy-looking. There’s no denying it ­moose were last in line when good looks were passed out. Still, seeing one in your front yard is exciting, and we were delighted.

It being May and the height of black-fly season, we thought Youngster might have been driven from the swampy woods by thousands of biting insects, and now wasn't quite sure where he was or where he should go.

Fortunately, my camera was nearby. I grabbed it and turned it on, while he stood for a long time, just 15 feet from the house, staring up our long driveway toward the road and the trees beyond it. Apparently assuming the way home wasn't there, he trotted around to the west side of the house.

The woods are quite close to the house, perhaps only 20 feet away. “Hmm,” he seemed to be thinking, “There’s no water here. Lots of trees all around, but I don't think I've ever seen this area before.” So, after a few more minutes of contemplation, he turned around and headed back to the front of the house.

Once again, the driveway captured his attention, and he stood there for five minutes, just staring and trying to figure out what to do. Clearly this was an easy path to follow, and he could see more trees beyond that funny black path on the ground. We were concerned that he'd trot out toward the road. We live on a bit of a curve, and few drivers follow the posted speed limit of 30 mph. What could we have done to dissuade him and turn him in a different direction?

Instead, he turned again to the west and retraced his steps to the side of the house. From where we were, looking down from the second floor window, he seemed so near. (Low, seven-foot ceilings in our house brought him even closer to us, peering out the second-story window.) How often does a moose stand below you?

Of course, I snapped away with my camera, trying to capture every expression on his face. He was indeed a puzzled lad. For yet another full five minutes he stood there, just gazing at the trees.

Finally, he turned away from the woods and returned to the front of the house. After several more minutes of gazing up that alluring driveway, he happened to turn his head towards the north. There, in the space between the house and garage, he spied the beaver impoundment through the trees.

Water! Up close, it doesn't look like a pond at all, filled as it is with tall, dead trunks, but seen through bushes and trees, it’s clearly a body of water.

Our lost young friend wasted no time heading for familiar territory. He shifted immediately into full gallop. Around the flower garden, past the porch and garage, through the leach field, and down the hill to the swamp he raced.

Now that he was back in her watery environment, we didn't fear immediate danger from trucks or cars on the road. We imagined him feeding happily on water plants and other tasty flora.

It turns out that we were wrong about our wild visitor. Through the efforts of an editor at Cooperative Extension, a Fish and Game biologist got to take a look at a photo of our “male yearling.” The biologist immediately pronounced, “Oh, I think it’s a female and I'd estimate her age at about two-and-a-half years. That schnoz is way too long for a yearling. And by this age, a male would have the beginnings of antlers and this moose doesn't.”

So, our lost male yearling was probably a teenaged female that stumbled into our yard while exploring the area. And the Fish and Game biologist also noted something else from my photo. Our moose showed signs of having suffered an attack of winter ticks. Her coat was ragged and thinned almost to skin in the shoulder area. Fortunately, the biologist said that our young moose should survive and continue to improve. I don’t know what our young female was thinking during her wander in our front yard, but she certainly gave us a delightful 20 minutes, some great photos, and a terrific story to tell our friends.

By: Susan M. Poirier, Master Gardener

Photo credit: Susan Poirier