Upon rising this morning I looked out my back window. Something appeared to be at the forest's edge nibbling on vegetation. Because I didn't have my glasses on, I was having great difficulty making out what it was. Is that a beaver, I thought. Maybe it's a porcupine.
I went downstairs and retrieved my glasses from the jelly stand in the dining room. I went out on my back deck and I realized it was indeed a porcupine. While I have seen several of these rodents in zoos, I had never seen one in the wild before. I quickly surmised that something was wrong with the little creature. It appeared to be dragging its back end as it slowly lumbered across the back forty.
One of my dogs noticed what I was staring at intently and charged the fence barking her fool head off. While other woodland creatures would dart away from a rather animated large dog, this little being seemed nonplussed. Even though the dog and the quilled creature were no more than 10 feet apart (separated by a fence), the porcupine didn't so much as blink an eye. It just kept on munching the grass.
Needless to say, this is NOT normal porcupine behavior. When a porcupine feels threatened, it will turn its back to the threat and thump or swing its tail. It may also hiss or growl. But this little critter seemed almost oblivious to our presence.
A neighbor, Todd, saw what my wife and I were looking at -- she had eagerly joined me on the deck -- he tried to shoo it into the woods with a stick. It moved a few feet away from the stick and went back to munching. Concerned, the neighbor called the police chief. Todd informed Della that the chief was coming out to shoot it because of fears that it might be rabid. He asked us to provide a box, so the chief could take it away.
I had just come out on the porch, when I noticed the police cruiser was already in front of the house. I didn't see the chief though. As I was trying to figure out where he was, I heard what sounded like a cannon. Of course, it was the chief discharging his firearm. The porcupine threat was now eliminated.
In the end, it probably was the proper thing to do, but I wouldn't have called the police so quickly. Porcupines are very slow and clumsy creatures. I would have waited to see if it eventually returned to the woods of its own accord. I just performed a bit of research on the web and found no indications that porcupines generally become infected with rabies.
What is more likely is that either this critter was very old or it simply had a broken leg. Porcupines spend a lot of their time in trees and it has been noted that nearly one-third of all specimens examined have broken or healed back legs -- from falling out of trees. As it seemed to retain a healthy appetite, maybe it would have been far better to leave this little guy or gal alone.
Before it was snuffed out, I spent a good twenty minutes studying this gentle being. It aptly reminded me of many of the key principles of Taoism. It was humble. It didn't call attention to itself. It understood its own nature and was delighting in the simple act of munching on monkey weed. Its life was the pure embodiment of wu wei.
I miss the little creature already.
I went downstairs and retrieved my glasses from the jelly stand in the dining room. I went out on my back deck and I realized it was indeed a porcupine. While I have seen several of these rodents in zoos, I had never seen one in the wild before. I quickly surmised that something was wrong with the little creature. It appeared to be dragging its back end as it slowly lumbered across the back forty.
One of my dogs noticed what I was staring at intently and charged the fence barking her fool head off. While other woodland creatures would dart away from a rather animated large dog, this little being seemed nonplussed. Even though the dog and the quilled creature were no more than 10 feet apart (separated by a fence), the porcupine didn't so much as blink an eye. It just kept on munching the grass.
Needless to say, this is NOT normal porcupine behavior. When a porcupine feels threatened, it will turn its back to the threat and thump or swing its tail. It may also hiss or growl. But this little critter seemed almost oblivious to our presence.
A neighbor, Todd, saw what my wife and I were looking at -- she had eagerly joined me on the deck -- he tried to shoo it into the woods with a stick. It moved a few feet away from the stick and went back to munching. Concerned, the neighbor called the police chief. Todd informed Della that the chief was coming out to shoot it because of fears that it might be rabid. He asked us to provide a box, so the chief could take it away.
I had just come out on the porch, when I noticed the police cruiser was already in front of the house. I didn't see the chief though. As I was trying to figure out where he was, I heard what sounded like a cannon. Of course, it was the chief discharging his firearm. The porcupine threat was now eliminated.
In the end, it probably was the proper thing to do, but I wouldn't have called the police so quickly. Porcupines are very slow and clumsy creatures. I would have waited to see if it eventually returned to the woods of its own accord. I just performed a bit of research on the web and found no indications that porcupines generally become infected with rabies.
What is more likely is that either this critter was very old or it simply had a broken leg. Porcupines spend a lot of their time in trees and it has been noted that nearly one-third of all specimens examined have broken or healed back legs -- from falling out of trees. As it seemed to retain a healthy appetite, maybe it would have been far better to leave this little guy or gal alone.
Before it was snuffed out, I spent a good twenty minutes studying this gentle being. It aptly reminded me of many of the key principles of Taoism. It was humble. It didn't call attention to itself. It understood its own nature and was delighting in the simple act of munching on monkey weed. Its life was the pure embodiment of wu wei.
I miss the little creature already.
Well, it wasn't a Taoist porcupine, or it wouldn't have been killed. ;^)
ReplyDeleteSad that people are so over reactive, though.
When I was a child growing up in northern Michigan my grandpa and I sat and watched as porcupine sat in a giant tree eating the bark. I said "grandpa we need to shoot that guy so he doesnt kill more of your trees."
ReplyDeleteGrandpa said nothing for several moments as we both watched the gentle being munching away. Then he said "We never kill porcupines. They should be left alone to provide food for a starving person in the Forrest."
That was one of my first exposures to the chain of interconnections of the 10,000 things. My young mind shifted and began to grasp the concept of unintended consequences.
We used to see them now and then, hanging in trees, in Appalachia. My dog tangled with one once, to his dismay. No one shot the porcupine. But another time, someone did shoot my dog.
ReplyDelete