Rest in Peace, Murphy

When you work with wildlife, you tell yourself not to get too attached to the animals. They are, after all, wild.
You tell yourself that, yet there are times when no matter what you do, they get a hold on your heart and won’t let go.
That’s what happened with Murphy, a groundhog that was brought into the rehab center almost five years ago. He was about four months old, but already he was too tame to ever survive in the wild.
He was the first animal I met when I started volunteering at the center a few months after he arrived. And every week when I went in, it was Murphy I would seek out first, just to say ‘hi.’
Murphy earned his keep over the years by visiting schools to teach children about wildlife. Volunteers traveled with him to the coast where groundhogs are scarce so he could carry on the tradition of Groundhog’s Day. He predicted the weather throughout the winter by carrying leaves into his den a few days before a storm would hit.
During education programs, he often appeared to come out of his den on cue when he was introduced. Murphy could be a bit of a ham. Hold out a pecan, and he’d be sure to come out, thump his tail and chortle.
Murphy died unexpectedly Sunday night, despite the best efforts of veterinarians.
A necropsy revealed tumors on his liver and lungs.
You tell yourself not to get attached, and yet it happens.
I miss him more than I ever thought possible.

Bears and Coyotes, Oh My!

Authorities were searching for a 200-pound black bear cub Tuesday night near Autumn Park in northeast Greensboro. The bear had been spotted Sunday night but slipped away before authorities arrived. Their plan was to keep humans at a safe distance and allow the bear to make its escape unharmed, according to a story in the News & Record by Eric J.S. Townsend.
Black bears, which have been scarce in the Piedmont during the past century as development forced them out, seem to be making a comeback. Three years ago the state had more black bears than at any other time since colonists settled the area, a state biologist said. About 4,000 of them can be found in the mountains to the West and about 7,000 in the Coastal Plain.
A bear walking across the yard is no cause for alarm, experts say. Most of the trouble between bears and humans occurs over food. So the North Carolina Wildlife Resources recommends keeping garbage and pet food out of reach.
Other tips for dealing with bears can be found at http://216.27.49.98/pg06_CoexistingWildlife/pg6a2.htm

Last spring, a co-worker took a photograph of a coyote in her backyard, only a few miles from downtown Greensboro. It looks like it’s posing for the camera, a beautiful animal with a grayish-brown coat and a long, bushy tail.
During the past few years coyotes have been reported in urban areas throughout North Carolina. They prefer open woodlands, but they adapt well to city life, especially where there are rabbits and rodents to eat. I’m also told by someone who knows these things that they have a taste for cats, another good reason to keep your pets inside.
Coyotes are not native to North Carolina. They moved east in the past century after wolves, a natural predator, were exterminated in large numbers. Their only true enemy now is man.
About the same time the coyote appeared in the yard here, another coyote was leading reporters and wildlife officials on a chase through Central Park in New York City. “Hal” the coyote was captured in March. Wildlife officials had tagged him for release in upstate New York when he died unexpectedly, a victim of heartworms and rat poisoning.
As development increases, so will encounters with wildlife. Animals usually come out the loser when they cross paths with humans.
Hopefully, we can learn to share the planet, and all be the richer for it.

Kidnapped!

From a distance, it looked like a stone deposited in the middle of the road. Only when we were upon it did we realize it was a box turtle.
We pulled over, and I ran back to move it, but not before a behemoth of a vehicle came over the slight rise in the road, fortunately straddling the turtle, but leaving it rocking in its wake.
By time I reached it, the box turtle, about the size of a child’s hand, was closed up tight in its shell. Since we were on our way to the rehab center, I took it with me to make sure it hadn’t been injured.
Athe center, the turtle eventually poked its head out. It had been doing what box turtles do when they’re under stress: pulling in its head and legs so they’d be protected by its shell. The underside of a box turtle -- the plastron -- has a hinge that folds when the turtle contracts its muscles, sealing it safely into its “box.” Hence the name.
I was guilty of doing what many well-meaning people do -- kidnapping an animal from its natural habitat. But in this case, I had made a note of where we found it and what direction it was heading. After it was examined, I released it in the grass at the side of the road and it continued on the journey it had begun many hours ago, heading into a wooded area near the highway.
Turtle mortality on highways has reached such levels that some turtles may become extinct, an article in Alive magazine, published by the N.C. Zoo, reports. Every day, more habitat is lost to shopping centers, runways and housing developments. It's an unfitting end for North Carolina’s official reptile.
Despite the dangers, turtles are better off in their natural environment than they are in captivity. They don’t do well as pets. So if you see a turtle crossing the road, help it to safety if you can do so without putting yourself in danger. Place it in the direction it was walking and leave it.
But, please, don’t take it home as a pet.

Music to My Ears
Walking back to our hotel room in Staunton, Va., last week, I heard a familiar sound: a manic chattering. I looked up to see hundreds of swifts circling above us. We followed them to the First Presbyterian Church on New Street, and for a half hour stood in an alley watching as they dropped into the chimney of the church. Once you've seen their nightly flight you want to see it again to make sure it wasn't an aberration.
Four years ago, before I started volunteering at the rehab center, I might not have noticed the sound. Or if I did, I probably would have been annoyed by it, rather than recognizing it for the wonderous spectacle it is.
The sight in Staunton was even more welcome because I wasn't expecting it.
Once you start noticing wildlife, you find it everywhere, as witnessed by this series in The New York Times: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/07/19/nyregion/19lens.html?ex=1157515200&en=220a12e094814b41&ei=5070