Step up for Rhinos

It's time again for Bowling for Rhinos and the American Association of Zoo Keepers has come out with a video that is--trust me--adorable. Yes, adorable rhinos. Take a look and haul out your credit card. Step up and help a bunch of low-paid, dedicated zoo keepers do what needs to be done. They've gone the extra mile (and then some) and need your help. CLICK HERE

All we need is to be left alone. In today's world, that requires an awful lot of help.

Let's get our smudgy fingers all over every last thing!

Warning! Intemperate rant ahead--level Red

I love Kickstarter, the whole idea of the thing. I love that it's so successful. It warms my heart that folks will just up and invest a little money in a worthy project, usually with no expectation of any personal benefit.

But one project that was funded for 2011 (192 backers, almost $15,000) strikes me as a really bad idea.

These energetic, well-meaning folks have bought themselves an undisturbed island "teeming with wildlife" and they are going to put up a "sustainable" artists' residency. Minimal impact, respectful, protected forever--all good. Well, I've got a better idea for uninhabited islands that have never suffered development.

You guessed it. Leave that island the %$#* ALONE!

Go find yourself another island, one that's already trashed. Plant native trees and grasses, get rid of unneeded asphalt, remove buildings that serve no purpose. Restore it and make it work for you and for wildlife.

But the island that is doing fine without you? Leave it alone--you are way too late to play at pioneer. And if you just can't stop, for pity's sake, quit congratulating yourself for only messing it up a little. Really? And don't give me that crap about how "humans are a part of nature, too." Not since we invented permanent agriculture and not at 7 billion of us.

Look, folks. We all know we've screwed up the planet in a big way. We do it in wholesale swoops, such as clear-cuts and mountaintop removal and carbon dioxide. We do it bit by bit with creeping agriculture and suburbs and roads. The challenge for us is to stop changing natural landscapes to benefit ourselves at the expense of all the other species that use that land. (I'm leaving the oceans out of this for simplicity.) This is the only way WE are going survive--if we leave enough of the planet working the way it did during our whole evolution. You think we can survive without oxygen and clean water and fertile soil?

This self-discipline would be something new to us--individual self-restraint for long-term survival of Homo sapiens and our fellow creatures. That is our challenge. How can we make ourselves draw a line around what we've already damaged, then look inside that line and see how to benefit ourselves there? We need to develop only that which is already damaged and include the possibility of restoring some of it and putting it back outside the line.

Quit kidding yourself that if we take a piece of land and wreck only 90% or even 50% or 25%, we are being responsible and ought to be congratulated.

Sometimes my species makes me want to weep.

Where do you stand on this? Have you got it in you to support that line or does the very idea make you furious?

Legal logging in Oregon

Kenya from the air: roads, agriculture. Forests? Not really.

Candid canine contributes

The pacing is a little slow here. How about adding a squirrel?

Wild animal pets: Sometimes a good thing?

Often I'm not at all ambivalent about people acquiring an exotic animal for a pet. A tiger cub, a snake that will grow to 150 pounds and enjoy swallowing your toddler, a lonely parrot, high-strung serval, any  monkey--these are not going to work out well in your backyard or living room.

We can raise a young wild animal to be crazy, but we can't raise it to be domesticated. It took us thousands of years to get dogs and house cats to where they are today. Why would you and an animal only a few generations out of the wild co-exist happily?

I'd like to point out to "animal lovers," in case this isn't obvious, that wild animals deserve a better fate than your average homeowner can provide. Many end up sick or dead due to ignorance of their diet and housing requirements. Or they survive in a cramped environment with no opportunity for their natural behavior--no companionship of their own kind, for one thing. The rescue centers are full of these failures. The media report the more terrible catastrophes.

This is a well-marked trail and those who don't do their research and act on impulse ("It was so cute!" "I rescued it from the pet store!") cause a lot of misery to themselves as well as the animals and possibly their family and neighbors.

But... I waver. I think people need animal contact, especially kids. We benefit from the family dog or cat or parakeets. We value the emotional support, we learn a little biology, we develop a life-long habit of noticing and caring about animals, we are immunized against many prejudices and myths about animals.

Where do wild pets fit into this? If a kid loves snakes or frogs or turtles, should this passion be stopped short of setting up a terrarium in her bedroom for a garter snake or a banana slug? What about raising an orphaned raccoon or crow? (Yes, I know it's illegal.) What about all the small, non-dangerous wild animals that have been bred in captivity for years, the bearded dragons and corn snakes and lovebirds?

I kept a half-dozen pet turtles as a child. My husband fondly remembers walking Chicago streets with a boa around his neck, terrorizing other kids. The library is full of sweet tales about what a tamed wild animal contributed to a family.

Usually this isn't the best life for that wild creature, but there's a trade-off. Perhaps the effect on the pet owner, that emotional and cognitive experience, is to the benefit of other animals and their habitat. The youngster delighting in a special animal is nudged toward a future as a biologist, amateur naturalist, and/or conservationist. We could use a whole lot more of those folks. Is this part of how we grow them?

What do you think? Where do you draw your line in this gray area? Anything goes? Dogs and cats only? Or somewhere in between. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Review: Animals Behaving Badly

While waiting for  my Honda's 120,000 mile servicing, I read Linda Lombardi's Animals Behaving Badly. It's a quick, fun read--humor more than natural history--by a zoo keeper. It's a catalog of examples of animals behaving contrary to the stereotypes people hold about them--behaving very badly indeed. The incidents are pretty funny as well as eye-opening, but perhaps not for the "bunny huggers" who need the illusion that animals are sweet and kind.

She cited a kea parrot in New Zealand who stole a Scottish man's passport, which took a lot of time and money to replace. He is quoted as saying: "My passport is somewhere out there in Fiordland. The kea's probably using it for fraudulent claims or something."

She busts a lot of myths, such as "mated for life," documenting massive infidelity in the bird world, as well as routine infanticide, dolphin rapists, and skilled liars. Some animals love alcohol, others like hallucinogens, some go for narcotics. Unprovoked attacks, theft, bullying--she shows that the natural world is hardly Eden.

Come for the laughs more than the science, but she's got some sensible nuggets in there, too.

"... civilization is the opposite of nature for a reason--we invented it because nature is dangerous. In nature, something is always trying to kill you, because that's basically how the system works."

"...what's the problem with believing that faraway creatures are kind, noble beings frolicking in a land of rainbows and flowers? ... what's wrong is that since we haven't quite  managed to drive all our fellow creatures to extinction yet, people still do run into them from time to time. And believing that nature is benevolent and animals are noble and cuddly is likely to get you into some serious trouble."

Bless her heart, she cites her references at the end.

Link to Amazon
Link to Linda's blog

Disclaimer: Linda's publicist sent me a free copy. I don't know her personally and I wasn't paid for this review.

We're kind and noble. Really. You can trust us.

A writer's cycles

Hello? Are you there? I'm back! My blog has been dead quiet for weeks due to the natural rhythms of a writer's life. Here's how it works:

1. New book is in production. Blogging is fun because there's lots to write about and  time to write it. The manuscript is turned in, the old project is winding down, and attention turns to new ideas and new projects. It's time to take an interest in the outside world, to share, to write something, anything, other than that wretched novel that took up 100% of the brain-space for months.

2. New book comes out. Awk! No more meandering! It's all about promotion. Blogging is now required! Blog about the book, topics related to the book, events past and future to promote the book, kind reviews of the book, national news relevant to the book, how the dog liked the book, etc.

3. Writer settles into a new project. Time again for an outline, research, initial drafts. Can't draft a novel eight hours a day, the brain won't take it. So there's still time and ideas for blogging. Blog about the research, the agony of outlines, the anxiety of pacing, the angst of characters, and, oh, keep on with promoting the most recent book.

4. Yeepers! That new novel is due. Forget blogging. Enter the Blog Cone of Silence. Days, weeks, months go by... Writer might be dead, for all you know. Writer may wish she were dead. Beneath the silent sea, passion, sweat, doubts, and tears heave and roil.

5. Writer turns in manuscript and falls into a sodden heap. Wanders about in a daze. Wonders why mail is stacked up, full of second notices on bills. All the laundry is dirty. Friends and relatives are feeling neglected and are bitter about it. Dog has bonded with spouse exclusively, assuming spouse hasn't moved out and filed papers. Why is there no food in this house?

6. Go to Step 1.

Don't you think you should learn to manage your time better??

A Zoo Keeper Never Forgets

 My spousal unit arranged tickets for a Lucinda Williams concert last night and we had a great time. Her encore was especially fine--covers of protest songs. I haven't heard Merle Haggard's "If We Make It Through December" in years. Brings a tear every time.

So this morning when he (the husband, not Merle) brought me coffee in bed, I smiled from my pillow with a special twinkle. But no. "Get up. There's a possum in the basement," he announced. "I've got a sign to paint down there. The customer's coming in two hours." He didn't quite wring his hands.

Ah, true love. Our contract is clear: he deals with dead animals, I cope with the live ones. "Go ahead and paint the sign," I said. "If it's on the other side of the basement, it won't attack." And I hauled my rear out of bed wishing we had some thick leather gloves and a catch pole. I drank the coffee, got dressed (opting for boots over sports shoes), and explored what the garage had to offer in the way of capture gear. It offered a five-gallon bucket.


As for how the possum got in--had to be the doggie door--and why our noble canine, Murphy The Hairy Little Dog, didn't deal? His attitude seems to be that he is a lap dog and a ball dog and if we have troubles with empty laps or escaping tennis balls, he's the pup for the  job. But interloping possums? He didn't even bark. I doubt he ever knew it was there. So much for keen senses and ancient instincts.

No one would accuse Didelphis virginiana of excessive competence, and this specimen was no exception. The teenage varmint sat hunkered down on the lid of our washing machine in a basement replete with dark hidey-holes. It could not have been  more conspicuous. It hissed at me. Again I wished for good gloves. But it just sat there as I clapped the bucket over its head, shoved a thin piece of plywood underneath, and carried it all out to the driveway. I turned the critter loose and it ran off to become someone else's problem. Husband cheered.


So take note, all of you who see my gray hair and wonder just how long it's been since I actually worked at a zoo. It's been awhile, I'll cop to that, but the skill set? Still in place, at least in part. And now I've got the evidence.