Wildlife doesn’t hold many perils for humans, at least not in this part of the country. There are venomous snakes, so you need to watch your step if you’re traipsing through the woods in warm weather. There are coyotes, which pose a danger for small animals like cats, but not much of a danger for adult humans. There have been coyote attacks on humans, some resulting in deaths, but most attacks have happened in the Southwest. I have heard of very few in Georgia, and all resulted in the death of the coyote. I have certainly never worried about coyotes attacking me, and there are plenty around here. Wasps and yellowjackets might be considered wildlife, and they pose a risk for painful stings, or worse if you happen to be allergic. But for the most part, here on the mountain and most of the rest of the country, the perils of wildlife involve the dangers that humans pose to the wildlife.
We and our cats have taken a toll here lately. I was trying to extend some civilization into our wild property by clearing a small area next to the driveway to plant grass. It involved a lot of digging and scraping to get rid of the bunch grass, maple seedlings and pine stumps. At one point I scraped what I thought was a clump of dead grass with my shovel and uncovered a rabbit nest with two or three baby rabbits. I had actually scraped one completely out of the nest, so I put it back and tried to replace the fur and grass the mama had placed around the babies.
If you think rabbits are cute, then a baby rabbit is that times a hundred. These were probably only a few days old. Of course I know that the life of a wild rabbit in the wild is short, maybe a year or two. They seem to be ready-made as dinner for foxes and coyotes.
And cats, as it turns out. The next day Mollie came back inside with a baby rabbit in her jaws. It seemed unharmed, so I put it back and recovered the nest. The next day I caught Chloe standing a over a baby rabbit a few feet away from the nest. I chased her away and tried to replace the baby and its nesting material. But I knew it was going to be futile.The cats knew where the nest was, and, if the Intertubes are correct, rabbits are one of the few mammals that can’t or don’t move their babies. In fact, they pretty much leave them alone, only coming back to the nest a couple of times a day to feed them. So, the next day, the nest was empty.
Some people would say that the cats are only following their nature. They are hunters of small animals, and that instinct remains strong, even for well-fed cats.
But I still don’t like it. That’s my nature.
On Friday I saw Chloe walking around with another small animal in her mouth. I chased her away, and she dropped it. It was a chipmunk, or possibly a ground squirrel. It was not moving, but when I got closer, it scampered away into a clump of liriope. It might have been OK, or it might have been mortally wounded; I don’t know. Leah went down later to investigate and found nothing.
Birds have also been having a hard time around here. Some kind of smallish bird was trying to build a nest on the floodlights we installed on the eave between the garage doors. At first I thought it would be OK, if a little messy, but then we realized that when the babies left the nest, there would be cats sitting below with their mouths open and watering. So I destroyed the nest and have been shooing the bird away over the last few days. It seems to have given up.
However, some other (or possibly the same) bird has been getting into the garage. I don’t think it has built a nest so far. It seems a little smarter than the hummingbirds that get trapped, because it has figured out how to fly out an open garage door. This has happened three times. Once, instead of flying out the garage door, it flew into the house through the open door into the kitchen. Fortunately it headed straight to the front door and hung on to the bottom of the storm door. It stayed there as I opened the door, and then it flew away.
I know, Nature, red in tooth and claw. But not my tooth, and not my claw. And not our cats’ teeth and claws if I can help it. I usually can’t.
Oh that is sad news from your neck of the woods. You do the best you can do to protect and rescue, but it doesn’t always turn out the way you’d like. One of the downsides of being observant of all that is around you is having to see this, and once you’ve seen it you can’t look away. A good heart is often broken. Thank you and Leah for your kind hearts.
I’m the same way about the phoebe nest on the side of my cabin. I’ve even grown protective of mama phoebe, who now has four chirping nestlings in it.
Robin — Watching nature take its course can be a strain. I’m not fond of snails, but when I see one starting out on the dangerous journey across the road, I toss it into the undergrowth to keep it from being smashed by a car. Silly of me, I know, but I can’t just leave them. Sometimes I even toss the earthworms off the road when they crawl out after a heavy rain. Even sillier I think.
Paul — One of the things that bothers me about our cats, or really, cats in general, is that they are such good hunters. I really don’t like for them to kill our birds.