Someone notified us about another dead beaver yesterday morning. It was floating by the creek monkey and it was not a kit. Jon haled it out and thought it was Junior or the smaller two year old. I talked to Jennifer from the Bay Area News group while we were getting ready to drive to UCD. But when KGO wanted an interview but I told them things were too hectic. Fortunately the very responsive veterinarian at CDFW worked over time to talk to the media, and print me out the paperwork so we could bring the beaver straight to Davis.

 Beloved Martinez beaver babies turning up dead

Heidi Perryman, executive director of the group Worth a Dam, said the California Department of Fish and Game is examining a dead kit euthanized last month at the Lindsay Wildlife Rehabilitation Hospital in Walnut Creek. State officials have also analyzed a water sample but not yet determined a cause of death.

“We didn’t find anything abnormal when looking at the carcass,” said Deana Clifford, a research scientist and wildlife veterinarian with the Department of Fish and Game.

Perryman said the carcass of  yesterdays beaver  appears to be that of either a 35-pound yearling born last year or a 2-year-old. She had hoped the dead animal photographed by Martinez resident Brendon Chapman on Tuesday was the missing fourth kit and not one of the five older beavers who call the creek home. They include an adult male and female, two 2-year olds and the yearling.

The first dead kit was found July 7. Guthrum Purdin, director of veterinary services at the Lindsay hospital, examined a different beaver kit brought in July 8.

 The beaver he saw was practically comatose and taking only occasional gasps of air when it arrived. The veterinarian initially suspected contact with a poisonous substance and euthanized it to shorten its suffering. While kits can be less hardy than adults, young beavers are “pretty durable” animals, Purdin said.

“The deaths were fairly acute and happened quickly and made me suspicious of a toxin exposure,” he said.

State veterinarians have ruled out drought and algae-related toxins, including anatoxin-a, in both the beaver and the creek water, and did not find rabies. Researchers also tested the kit’s brain for high sodium levels after finding a bacteria normally in seawater during a toxicology test. They didn’t find any abnormalities.

Officials have also ruled out tularemia, an infectious disease commonly found in rodents. The disease can cause small die-offs such as the one in Alhambra Creek. It killed a few beavers near Lake Tahoe a few years ago. No other beaver die-offs have been reported in the state so far this year.

“It’s not clear what caused the death of that kit at this point in time,” Clifford said.

In addition to reducing Martinez’s small but beloved beaver population, the die-off holds possibly larger implications.

“(The beavers are) right in our water source, so they tend to be a good marker species,” Purdin said. “If there’s a problem, they can point the way where to look.”

Given how distressing the whole thing is the article came out pretty accurate and informative. I’m so glad Guthrum and Deana were willing to talk to Jennifer too. I was pretty upset but I tried not to babble. (Not to mention that it was one of the worst possible birthday’s ever for poor Jon.) As it is, the article reads as a nice reminder that beavers are in OUR watershed and if something happens to them it might happen to us next.

We went down last night and saw two (mom and dad?) near the footbridge. The dam needed repairs and the level was down a bit. They looked fine, but we are learning that sometimes everything is not the way it appears. I’ll keep you posted on anything we learn. In the meantime I’m hopeful they’ll be more concerned about this recent death and press on with a little more energy so we can get answers.

In the mean time we all need cheering up so here’s a fun article from Oregon.

The Beaver Man

We started talking. Five minutes into our conversation, I knew I had met the world’s most passionate spiritual advocate for beavers and walked into one of the best Oregon stories of my life.

His name was James Murphy and he owned a romping tan lab named Marley. He had a house in outer southeast Portland but hated Portland now and rarely went back. He was a wandering man of the North Oregon Coast now, evangelizing for the protection of beavers.

James riffed with the most interesting and unconventional grammar, and I thought it the most beautiful stream-of-conscious speechifying I’d heard in years. Who cares if it was almost impossible to quote him properly? Beavers don’t care about conventional grammar or proper quoting! They just want to be left alone, eat wood, build dams, create marshes and salmon rearing habitat, and play their antediluvian role in the ecology of healthy watersheds. James understood this perfectly and wanted to educate others about the benefits of this maligned animal that was once nearly hunted to extinction because of a fashion trend.

This crusade began a year ago after angels told him to take care of animals. “I’ve known for years about beavers,” said James, “and it was time to start doing something for them. I had to.”

James scouts the local creeks, wetlands and rivers for signs of beaver activity and also imagines their return to places where they are needed to restore damaged watersheds. He’s documenting beavers and beaver dams in some way that doesn’t involve conventional scientific documentation. He’s seeking, finding, observing, and rhapsodizing. James is a “naturalist” of the very old school.

At one point in our conversation, James broke out a little book with a cork-like cover. “It’s my Beaver Book,” he said, handing it to me. He told me he’s collecting names, telephone numbers and email addresses of people who will go to Washington D.C. and lobby for the protection of beavers. I happily signed it and provided my contact information. I was surprised by how many names were in there. He’s been, well, busy as a beaver, and people are responding.

I’m not sure what I love most about this article: James unbridled and infectious enthusiasm for beavers, the authors puzzled fascination with him, the fact that we never met and I don’t know anyone who knows him, or the  painted truck. This is the kind of wildcard that makes any beaver hand more fun to play. I love the idea that he is out looking for local beavers in creeks and spreading the gospel. I love his book with the names of people who are willing to go to Washington.

(But honestly, if the author thinks James is the world’s most “Passionate beaver advocate” – we should really talk.)