Blog | January 27, 2010
Time for dinner!!
Any malamute owner knows appetite is not a problem. Food is primary on their mind at all times. My own malamute, Talkeetna, has a clock in her stomach that say dinner is at 6 pm. Admittedly she insists it is 6pm starting at 4 pm but it gets increasingly desperate as the minutes tick on. One evening I brought her in from the garden at her usual feeding time – she was expecting it, but I was very busy so she waited in expectancy for some time. Then I again got ready to feed her and was interrupted. By the time I finally got to give her her dinner she was practically shaking. We might note that she is hardly skinny, she eats breakfast snacks and an evening dinner (not to mention various snacks through the day) and has never gone hungry a day in her life.
But she was primed, and then delayed. After she ate I realized her nervous system was still all worked up; she was frazzled by the intensity of her need and waiting. Still panting after guzzling her meal… It took some time to sooth her and calm her. Eventually she feel into a deep sleep on the bed in exhaustion.
This is only partly a cute tale. It makes me wonder what we do when we breed dogs to our human specifications. That some set points perhaps are off a bit – in this case the appetite of a malamute. Still within a functional range, but driven, positively driven, by the biology we created when her meal was delayed.
Nature does her own selection for traits that will help animals survive. She does not select for ability to fetch, for hair coat, ear length, etc. I wonder what it is like to be a malamute, so driven by food even when well fed.
Animal Story, Animal Tales, Bears, Blog, about | January 26, 2010
He was found at a roadside zoo that was closing down, just a few weeks old. It was clear even then that he was a differently-abled bear. As we watched him play, sweetly, innocently, not too coordinated, not too quick on the draw, the name just came out – Humble Bumble. Life scares him. Anything new scares him. Without encouragement he would rock himself endlessly in a corner. But he trusts his mentor Boychuk the German Shepherd. It was Boychuk who gave him the courage to go to the Wildlife Garden and play. To see the care and affection with which he plays with Boychuk, holding back his strength, adds a new dimension to one’s perception of grizzly bears. Humble Bumble, is a bear of character.
Animal Story, Blog, Wolves | January 21, 2010
We take Windsong, a 16 year old wolf, out to a safe fenced area every day to get her dose of sun and fresh air. But dimmed as her senses are, when we approach to bring her back in she gets quite lively and makes it very clear where she wants to be. Each day more so. Her home, she decreed, has moved. As we lead her back to the cabin she races as fast as 112 year old legs can and makes her intentions and desires quite apparent. We are getting worried. First Cucumber, then Little White Girl, now Windsong. Is word getting out that if you get sick or infirm you get to go in the cabin and if you behave in there they don’t have the heart to put you back out? Our cabin is not big enough for two dozen wolves…..
Animal Story, Animal Tales, Blog, Coyotes | January 14, 2010
Willow the coyote was on her back screaming bloody murder as Streak stood over her growling mightily, touching not a hair on her body. But she certainly was making him feel powerful! It wouldn’t matter where we were on the ranch, we could hear those screams and picture exactly what was happening.
The drama started very early in their relationship. Willow had been rescued from a den at a golf course and we were taking care of her in our cabin. After a couple of weeks young Streak arrived. In spite of the fact that the cabin was already her territory and he was smaller and younger, when he approached her for the first time, she looked at him, paused a moment, flipped on her back and submitted. Male-female relations determined at that age? We only know what we observed.
When they were old enough, we moved them outside together. As they matured Streak dominated her more and more. She responded with more and more drama, shrieking as if she were being ripped apart, legs waving piteously in the air, Streak on his tiptoes standing astride her snarling ferociously. It all looked so very real. Kind visitors would worry.
One day I was standing there getting ready to feed them juicy green grapes. Willow was on her back waving and screaming. I was standing behind her head as she carried on. I accidently dropped a grape and it rolled past Willow’s left ear. Without missing a beat she turned her head, snapped up the grape and returned to her original position, continuing with her ear-piercing yelps. Streak, concentrating on his growling, never knew a thing.
How did she do it? She couldn’t even see the grape until it became level with the corner of her left eye, and it was rolling pretty fast. There was a nanosecond of opportunity between when she could have seen the movement, recognize it as food, roll her head to the left, and grab it. But to be able to notice it in the midst of such drama, focus on it, realize what it was, act on it while carrying on for Streak . . . I don’t think the emotions were running very high, truly. I don’t think there was fear and trembling. And to have the presence of mind to snap back into position as if nothing had happened . . . I wish I could have seen the look in her eye but I wasn’t in the right position. I would bet it was satisfaction, on many levels, one a bit unflattering to females of a certain type. But after witnessing that event, whenever I heard the cries from anywhere on the ranch, I would have a little thrill of appreciation for the sheer acting skill of it. Talent should always be appreciated.
Animal Story, Blog, Wellness & Spirtuality, Wolves | January 13, 2010
As she recovered, Little White Girl became a handful in the cabin, It was clear that there was no way a big healthy lively wolf of her caliber could stay in any longer, much as she loved the camaraderie. We had the additional reason that ancient Windsong, Earthfire’s last living sibling, was having trouble getting up on her aged legs in the cold. We brought her in to the warmth and comfort and smells of living/room/kitchen. It is interesting how different animals age. Stardance, another sister, who just passed away a few weeks ago, had the same parents, life events and treatment. She was graceful and quick until her last five days, and alert right to the end. Windsong has been half in another world for several months now. Yet she continues living on, slow and steady. The only thing that claims her attention in this world, as with any good wolf, is food. She totters her way around looking for it when not sleeping.
Watching her lying quietly one early morning I thought about how rare it is for a wolf to be able to be on this earth to such a great age. An intuitive friend of mine, given to such things, said she feels Windsong is gathering wolf wisdom to share with the Great Council of departed wolves. With my mother, as she became less and less aware, less able to speak, her spirit started to shine through She became more luminous. Ancient trees seem to have a wisdom and dignity too. I wonder about the universality across species of gathering quiet wisdom as one ages.
Animal Story, Blog, Cats, Seen Thru New Eyes | January 12, 2010
I always wanted a lynx coat until I met a lynx! Mr. Pinkerton, the Earthfire Institute lynx and Philbin, an advisory circle member.
Animal Story, Blog, Wolves | January 7, 2010
Pathetic Cucumber
Little White Girl had been in the house two days. Because of space (our cabin living room/dining room/office/infirmary is 12 by 18 feet) that meant Cucumber had to be ousted as we weren’t sure if the two would be aggressive and Little White Girl needed peace for recovery. We at least brought Cucumber in for her dinner and breakfast so she wouldn’t feel totally abandoned. The first morning she was not her usual self — instead of bounding into the cabin and wolfing down her food, she walked in haltingly, eating with lack-luster. The second morning she barely dragged herself into the cabin with tiny little halting steps, her back legs almost collapsing beneath her. Her eyes were bleary and she looked as if she had aged 20 years. Because of her history I called the vet, worrying that something had gone wrong with her stomach again — perhaps she had a twisted bowel? She looked awful. Words simply cannot convey how pathetic she was.
The vet was unavailable until the morning so we rearranged the living room, brought in a second cage, blocked the two cages from sight of one another, and brought Cucumber in for the night, for warmth and observation. We didn’t get much sleep with all the worrying and tumult. Little White Girl couldn’t make it through the night and had to be walked past Cucumber to get to the door for a 3 AM walk. Cucumber, knowing exactly what was happening even though she couldn’t see it, got agitated, which meant she too had to go out. Talkeetna, our malamute, locked in the bedroom, carried on mightily when she heard the two intruders in the living room getting special attention, and demanded to go out — but we had to wait until first Little White Girl, then Cucumber were finished, locked back in their cages, blocked from each other, and then Little White Girl blocked from sight as we had to take Talkeetna within inches of her cage to get to the cabin door.
In the morning we staggered up wearily to check on Cucumber. She looked up at us with bright eyes and danced on her back legs with impatience for her breakfast which she wolfed down. She looked 20 years younger, all signs of pain and trauma and gone. We were beaten once again. And what was a two-wolf New Year’s Eve, is now turning into a two-wolf January.
Blog, Wellness & Spirtuality | January 6, 2010
At an informal retreat, we were discussing how profoundly animals we love have reached us deep inside, changed us, opened us. One woman talked about how devastating the impending loss of her dog was going to be for her. At age 50 she had for the first time allowed herself to unfreeze, to love. Because of this gift she was able to move on to satisfying human relationships and even more so, to a relationship with her self. Others with families and children who also deeply loved their pets voiced the same sentiment — of how much their pets gave them, how wrenching the goodbye. We wondered together just what it was that made what an animal gives so rich and deep and readily accepted; what is it, that an animal has the capacity to unlock fearful and frozen hearts. We know it happens but how — I have yet to find any really satisfying answers. Maybe it can’t be explained or understood except by the heart. Please share your thoughts and comments.
Blog, Wolves | December 29, 2009
The day before Christmas we did an urgent operation on Little White Girl (a Large white wolf but when we got her she was little). She had been rapidly losing weight. It was supposed to be 10 below the next few days. It was major surgery, her abdomen was shaved and she had 20 metal staples in her belly, so we brought her in the warm cabin to heal. We spent a reasonably peaceful couple of days and nights. She sucked up all the love and attention and homemade chicken soup made just for her, fed every two hours. She emanated contentment. She lay quietly next to us during our eggnog and Christmas Eve and Christmas Day dinners, enjoying the companionship and the warmth. She adjusted so easily to the house life that we let our guard down. The third morning we went to visit some friends for an hour, bringing our dogs with us, leaving her alone to rest, we thought. We returned and opened the door upon wolf devastation. She was still in her large cage but in her attempt to get out of it had somehow maneuvered it across the living room floor, completely pushed out the sliding bottom insert upon which she had been standing, pulled up all the metal framing underneath it, pulled off the table cloth that we had laid across the top of the cage over a large piece of plywood to serve as our Christmas area, pulled off the Christmas tree; scattered the 750 pieces of a puzzle we had been assembling all over the cabin (how I don’t know, as she was still in fact in the cage). Fortunately Jean, wise in wolfly ways, had double chained it with big clips in addition to the locks that came with it. Water had been widely splashed across the room As we entered she put her ears down and whined and wagged and greeted us with several minutes of pure ecstasy. Pure happiness. We petted and she pushed hard against our hands, eyes closed. She circled a few times, gave a grunt of satisfaction, and lay down to relax. We were back. Wolves are creatures of very intense family feelings and a good deal of vitality and ingenuity with which to express them. Never abandon a wolf.
Blog, Deep Ecology, Ethics & Whole Community | December 29, 2009
Yukon biologist and professor discusses the importance of preserving the Yellowstone to Yukon Wildlife Corridor with Susan Eirich of Earthfire Institute.
Page 5 of 7« First...«34567»
Digital Storytelling Workshop
Josie the Buffalo Goat
