Back in September a healthy young bull moose escaped from his enclosure at the Kroschel Wildlife Center on Mosquito Lake Road. He had lived there since he was a baby. Steve Kroschel has permits for this sort of thing. He named him Duck Moses, after his savior, Duck Hess who lobbied to have the moose at the center, and for the prophet because Steve thinks big. I assumed it was because the calf was found in the rushes, where moose like to be. Maybe he was?
During hunting season, which is also moose mating season, dear Duck Moses flew the coop for love, or at least the hope of it. The trouble is the wildlife center is right in the heart of moose hunting territory– lots of camps, river boats, tree stands (including ours) are all up and down the Chilkat River and near Mosquito Lake. Any bull moose with the proper antler size and configuration is fair game. No one would be able tell Duck Moses from the others, unless maybe they knew him very well. We never did hear of anyone that had a moose walk right up to him, or that been enjoying particularly tender steaks this winter. (He’d no doubt taste pretty good, what with a steady diet of grains and fruit and vegetables combined with the stress-free life of ease.)
I had forgotten about him.
Turns out Duck Moses wanted to be home for the holidays.
He came back to Kroschel’s just before Christmas Day. His antlers had fallen off, but Steve recognized him right away. Duck Moses was really happy to be home. He went right to the hay trailer in his compound and ate his full. Since then, I hear that he has not been even remotely interested in heading back out into the woods. (If he does, I may not be able to hunt there next year. It’s enough to make a person a vegetarian.)
