For the past dozen years or so, Sandy Faella has watched as her husband made regular seasonal “commutes” from a place he lives – Hockessin, Del. – to a place he loves: Allagash, Maine.

And for the past dozen or so years, each time Cosimo Faella has loaded up his truck with all the gear he needs to hunt bear … or moose … Sandy Faella has felt the familiar twinge shared by “hunting widows” nationwide.

Her husband was heading into the Maine woods. He was leaving her alone. And she didn’t entirely understand.

Now, she does.

On Monday morning, Sandy Faella – the proud holder of a Maine moose-hunting permit – headed into the same woods her husband has visited on so many occasions.

And though subpermittee Cosimo Faella ended up firing the shot that bagged their 525-pound cow moose, make no doubt about this: His wife wasn’t just along for the ride.

Sandy Faella was hunting.

Across the northern and eastern edges of Maine, hunters headed into the woods on Monday, the first day of the first session of moose season. In all, 929 hunters earned the right to participate in the first session, while another 1,966 will hunt from Oct. 11-16.

Until Monday morning, Sandy Faella had never traveled so far north. She had never hunted for big game (save tromping around with her husband, helping him “look for deer”).

And before Monday, she had never, ever, seen a moose.

At least, not a live one.

“Remember ‘Northern Exposure,’ how the moose ran right through [during the opening credits]?” Sandy Faella asked. “We have [a moose] at home, but it’s mounted. I never saw one live. The closest I’ve come is watching ‘Northern Exposure.'”

Then, around 7 a.m., guide Tylor Kelly drove the Faellas to a favorite spot. He said a few magic words. And the moose obliged.

Just like on TV.

“He said, ‘I aways see moose here,”‘ she said. “And immediately, we saw it.”

The first moose was a bull – off-limits to the Faellas. The second was a cow, which Cosimo dispatched. The third and fourth, which tromped by as the Faellas were waiting for Kelly to return with a trailer? Well, you’ll have to ask Sandy.

All she knows is that her husband’s frequent trips north to one of Maine’s most remote rural outposts made perfect sense.

Finally.

“It’s like his second home, and I was always a little bit jealous because I could never come up and meet them,” Sandy Faella said. “It’s really great to see everything. It’s beautiful country, and [the Kellys are] a beautiful family. They really make you feel at home.”

– . –

While betting on the ponies is a well-established American recreational pursuit, it’s also possible to earn a few dollars (or lose them) betting on moose.

Just ask Robert Sifton of Quimby.

Sifton’s friend, John Caron, bet him that the bull moose he shot in Wallagrass weighed 832 pounds. Quimby took the wager … and told him it was bigger.

As a result, Sifton is several dollars richer.

At the official weighing station in Fort Kent, Sifton found that his moose tipped the scales at 965 … before about 30 pounds of ice poured out of its body cavity.

“It’s a monster,” Sifton said, shaking his head.

Sifton has been moose hunting before, but had to travel to Newfoundland to do so.

This year, Sifton got the chance to hunt in Maine thanks to his wife’s good luck.

“I applied for 24 years and never got a permit,” he said. “My wife, Leona, applied once and got it.”

On Monday, his hunting party saw eight moose, including two bulls, before shooting one.

After the weigh-in (but before collecting his earnings), he was downright giddy.

“I don’t care if I ever get another one,” Sifton said. “This was worth it.”

– . –

A young bull moose caused quite a commotion in Nashville Plantation on Sunday evening, as he stopped traffic along Route 11, the main north-south highway.

According to people who live in the area, which is just north of Ashland, the moose stood along the road, on the other side of a decorative fence, for hours.

Both of the moose’s antlers had been broken off, and it appeared ill or injured. The moose was reluctant to move more than a few steps at a time, and showed no interest in moving back into the nearby woods.

Passers-by called state police and wardens, expecting that authorities would destroy the animal before it wandered into the road.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.