What animals have taught me

As a novice animal person 13 years ago, I had no idea what would be in store for me when I became totally immersed in the field of animals, both wild and domestic. What I have learned from these creatures has given me a whole new perspective on the way I see myself and my fellow human beings.

The lessons I have learned from non-human animals far outweigh those I have learned either from my formal education or from my human peers.

I tried in some small way to relate what I've learned in my book, "BECAUSE THEY MATTER…", but what I've learned cannot be sufficiently told; it must be lived. To live it, we must simply observe our own pets, and learn about and observe the wildlife with which we share this planet.

Learning to co-exist with the animals, both wild and domestic, increases our tolerance and respect, not just for those animals but for our fellow humans, as well.

I learned about the power of a mother's love from a cottontail rabbit. This wild rabbit was hit by a car and had severe head injuries. The trauma from the accident caused her to immediately give birth to 5 youngsters. Although mortally wounded, this little mama stayed with us for 2 days, allowing her babies to suckle her precious life-saving mother's milk. She died with her babies nestled against her belly. We were able to finish what this brave mama had started. 3 of the 5 babies made it; none of them would have without her help.

I have learned courage from so many animals; but one little coyote girl really stands out. She had run through a brush fire, burning the pads completely off her feet, leaving nothing but bare bone exposed on her 2 front feet. She was not found immediately. By the time she finally collapsed from infection, malnutrition and dehydration, her injuries were several days old. We tended to her myriad of problems, having little hope that she would recover; yet we watched her everyday, obviously in enormous pain, eat, take her medication, and undergo painful bandaging of her severely damaged feet. She remained stoically silent as we, her most feared enemy, attempted to care for her. Silently, she endured the humiliation of specially made boots that would allow her to perform her normal daily functions. Miraculously, she healed beautifully and her pads grew back. She was released several months later.

The sad part about dealing with our native wildlife is that they do not know that we are trying to help them. No soft voices or caresses can soothe an injured wild animal. In their eyes, we are not the saviors we like to think we are. We are the enemy.

When I think about animals who are just so happy to be alive, I think of a baby kestrel falcon we had last year. This downy youngster was the only survivor of an entire family- mother, father, and 2 other youngsters, all found dead, beneath their nest. The entire family had perished due to a disease called TRICHOMONIASIS. This disease manifests itself in the form of cheesy growths in the throat, mouth and crop of a bird. These deposits grow until they block the food passage of the bird. The bird literally starves to death. Although highly treatable in the early stages, there is little we can do for a bird in the advanced stages. This baby was in the advanced stage, with growths protruding from his neck, mouth and throat. He was just hours away from death, but with the innocence of youth, he didn't know it.

Because of his spunk, we decided to let him decide his own fate. We medicated him the first day and attempted to feed him some liquefied meat. It took everything in his power to swallow these tiny bits of nourishment, but he did! We fed him every 30 minutes on that first day, expecting to find him dead at any time. He lived through the first day, and the second and the third…

He grew to love his liquid medication as much as he loved his liquid food- anything that hit his bottomless pit felt pretty good, I think. By the 4th day, the growths had subsided and we were ready to try something more than liquid meat. We offered him a small dish of nice, soft silkworms, and he went ballistic! He grabbed the first worm in his mouth and proceeded to dance and spin in circles like a tornado as he consumed his first solid food! He ate the entire dish, dancing and spinning as he ate. We named him "Mister Twister" - or as we said it MISTUH TWISTUH because of his pure joy at being able to eat real food. For the entire time he was with us, this falcon spun with joy at every bit of food provided. When he was completely free of his disease, we put him with other young falcons in preparation for his eventual release. By the time this group was ready for release, MISTUH TWISTUH had them all spinning with joy at feeding time. MISTUH TWISTUH and friends were released together one summer morning. For several days following their release, this group would return for a handout- a procedure called "hacking" in the rehab world. One lone kestrel would snatch the food provided and spin with joy. We knew then that MISTUH TWISTUH was going to make it and enjoy every minute of his life.

I have also learned that the wild world has its share of comedians. Crows and ravens are among the birds "not so loved' by so many people. I have known many crows and ravens, both by rehabbing injured and orphaned ones, and simply by observation of those in the wild. Crows and ravens play. They are one of the few species that can. Being scavengers, food is everywhere so they don't have to spend every waking moment looking for something to eat. Also, they are extremely intelligent, with brains comparable in size to our own. Somewhere in their little black noggins is a space reserved for playtime. I've seen wild ones view their reflections in mud puddles and attempt to play with the reflection. I've seen a cache of golf balls stolen from Mt. Woodson Golf Course be carefully hidden on our property and reserved for later use. These same golf balls are subsequently found in our water tubs, in our large flight cage and in our duck pond. I have watched wild crows perching on our power lines and without a moment's hesitation, loosen their grip on the wires and hang upside down, surveying this new perspective of their world with utter fascination. I urge all of you to simply observe crows and ravens at work and at play and to enjoy them for what they are.

Animals have taught me tolerance. I tolerate the gopher who eats the roots of our young trees and our newly planted native plants and grasses. I tolerate him because I looked into his eyes one day and saw someone just trying to survive with the cards that life had dealt him.

I have learned that animals can love people as much as people love animals. Several years ago, we acquired 2 young domestic turkeys, a male and a female. Although we had hoped that these 2 would bond with each other and join our other domestic fowl in the "goose yard" as we call it, this was not to be. Blaine, the male, bonded with every human on the property and with every visitor. He was a kick! So much so that he became our official tour guide. When Blaine passed away a couple of years ago he left a lot of people with a soft spot in their hearts for a goofy little turkey. On the other hand Annie, the female, bonded with only one human being, and her love for him was very special. Rick Over was a Marine who had some spare time on his hands, coupled with a love for animals and the great outdoors. He became a staff member just as Annie was growing up. Although she avoided all of our attempts to pet her, she took to Rick immediately. She followed him all over the property as he did his daily chores and at break times, this delicate little turkey would be found in Rick's lap, sound asleep with her head tucked in his elbow. She really loved him and he loved her. When Rick left us for duty overseas, Annie wandered aimlessly for a few weeks and finally just passed away one night- I'm sure of a broken heart.

Years after their passing, we still marvel at the love, pleasure and pain we all felt for these 2 turkeys- animals that we rarely think about, but when we do, they are seen only as carcasses on our dinner table.

I have also learned that animals do not have the capacity to be mean. They are merely adhering to a standard of life and living that we will never understand.

So often in our dealings with wild animals, we are witness to the horrors inflicted upon them by humans- the poisonings, the leghold traps, the gunshot wounds and sometimes just intolerance and apathy for other living beings. But once in a while, we are witness to the unexpected that totally restores our faith in humanity. Just last week at sunset, a car pulled up our driveway and an old weather-beaten cowboy, with his hands cupped, emerged from the car. He was a cranky looking guy, about 6' 6" and I dreaded hearing what kind of problems the wildlife were giving him.

Instead, as he approached me, his face softened and he placed his cupped hands into mine, as I looked into his gentle eyes, he said " Ma'am, I found this little guy floating in my horse's water tub. I thought he was dead, so I was gonna give him a decent burial like he deserved. When I picked him up, he was still breathing so I knew you folks could help him."

I opened his wrinkled, sunburned hands and found a tiny sparrow. At that moment, I could have kissed that old cowboy's face. It had been a tough day, and he gave me all I needed to make it through another!

I will leave you with a few words written by Henry Beston that have helped me see non-human animals for what they truly are:

"We need another and a wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature, and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, and greatly err.

For the anial shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete that ours they move finished and complete. Gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth."

— Cindy Traisi