My Gran used to tell this story with great regularity – it spoke to her pride in her family and also her country I think.
Gran’s uncle Ronald (her father’s brother) left Scotland for the US, settled and had a family there. But he kept in touch with his Scottish family and came back to visit on at least one occasion. This would likely have been just post war, perhaps in the late 1940s or early 1950s.
Uncle Ronald, so the story goes, spent much of his visit regaling everyone with how wonderful the US was, how big everything there was and, in comparison, how small everything in Scotland was.
One day he came to visit my Gran at her home in Milngavie, a council semi and probably much smaller that Ronald was used to. Anyway, I’m sure he was warmly welcomed and, knowing my Gran, offered tea and pancakes. At one point however the family dog, Dane (a Great Dane) wandered in and startled Ronald, “what on earth is that?” he is reported to have exclaimed.
My Uncle Ronnie (namesake of Ronald), quick as a flash, my Gran would tell us proudly, replied “Why Uncle Ronald, that’s just a wee Scottish moose!)”
Craigachan 