Ends & Pieces

Admit it. You need this. We all do.

How crazy cute is that? This entire thing should come with a warning label. You can tell even that vet who handles baby sloths and baby cheetahs is like, jesus christ this kit is CUTE. Must pick up again! My favorite shot might be the snoozing parents at the end. They look so mellow. “Yeah, great, take the brat off our hands for a while so we can catch up on our beauty sleep. Perfect.

Although, I admit, I’m surprised to see a beaver sleeping on his back. Who knew?

The entire argument is relevant at the moment because a Derek Gow recently mentioned that there were photographs of a beaver burying a dead kit and a discussion of whether this meant the mother was mourning or just discouraging predation, so of course I asked to see the photos and Derek introduced me to Angus Christof of the Beaver mapping program in Switzerland,

Some of his researchers viewed a beaver give birth to live kits and then deliver a stillborn kit which she proceeded to bury. He thoughtfully speculated that this may have something to do with mourning and prepared a excellent educational poster of the incident with references. I’m not sure I can share it yet, but I will summarize something of our conversation. He thought predation and disease might play a factor but also loss.

My thoughts – based on being quite possibly the woman who adores beavers the most on the entire planet and credits them with extraordinary powers in almost every way – my thoughts are that beavers do not mourn like humans do. My observations about beavers over the years watching family members react to kit death or adult death or new birth and remarriage is that beavers are enormously pragmatic. They engage when the member is there. And they disengage when the member is dead or dying.

Actually it is one of the things I love best about them. Their adaption to new situations and carrying on. Whether that means taking branches off the lodge to reinforce a dam in crisis, or stopping in the middle of repairs to munch a tasty branch. Beavers are unflappable.

I thought of our young kits in 2010r and of the most affectionate display I ever saw when this kit was anticipating his sick mother coming closer to him before she had gotten very ill. He lifted up his tail in joy or greeting like a dog. It is the only time we have ever observed this particular behavior. It still makes me cry to watch it. He obviously wasn’t getting enough from her and thrilled about the idea that he would soon get her attention.

Kit raises tail from Heidi Perryman on Vimeo.

But even as attached as those kits were to their mom, in the next few days, as mom got sicker, and stopped going into the lodge and clearly wasn’t eating, the entire family just moved on. They stopped interacting with her or seeking her out. They went about their business being beavers and just left her alone.

To us that were wracked with grief at the time over losing mom it appeared indifferent, but I understand in retrospect it was purely pragmatic. I think to their minds, (and to ours if we had been able to face it), she was already gone. The mother was gone even though she was still there. They didn’t dwell in the past or panic about the future, they just moved on.

I’m going to show you how they moved on and how essentially pragmatic it was. These clips are taken the night mom died and show a kit, approaching a yearling who had never taken much interest in parenting, and the way that their relationship is changing. I think the strongest proof of beavers handling this differently than humans do is that through the entire 4 part scene you can year the camera-woman (me) weeping in the background like a sentimental fool while their interaction is much more real life compelling. At one point the kit whines, which must trigger some kind of response in the yearling because he is much softened by the last scene.

Beavers move on.