Last night we saw two beautiful things that lightened our hearts a great deal: Dad and 3. We wondered where Dad has been and wondered if Sarah’s comments about grieving at the loss of the mate were accurate. How could it be true? Weren’t we just talking about rodents? Would they really notice if a mate had died? But we didn’t see dad for three days after mom’s death. And when he appeared yesterday he looked a little looser in the skin, a little older. We know exactly how he feels. He went straight for a nice cottonwood branch and snagged it to bring into the lodge, where he stayed while the bi-yearling went for his alone time. We were so relieved to have him back and playing for the home team.
Later we saw the three kits together for the first time since Father’s day. There had been a very narrow otter event last week, meriting tail slaps from two adult beavers and some chasing. We feared the worst but were doing our bests to stay positive and remember that just because you ‘have’ three doesn’t mean you see them all at the same time. This is horrible footage and very blurry but you can see we definitely have our ‘tripod’ of beaver kits. We were very happy to see the family of five last night.
We had nice articles in the CCTimes and the Gazette, as well as reports on KCRA, channel 11 and channel 7 via Bay City News. There has been a fairly steady stream of condolences from people moved by her death, and a host of visitor’s down at the dam. One of our most touching responses was the donation of five dollars from a child’s allowance in the South Bay. We are working to incorporate a memorial to mom into the tshirt design for this year and talking with the metal worker who did the lovely beaver at the library about adding a memorial to the sheetpile wall. I am grateful that we have come this far, and that the family seems to be in good shape, but every part of me is exhausted by feeling and it has been a rough week. Let’s hope the next ones are lighter and brighter.
Taken before mom’s death, but during her illness, this photo shows our two larger kits exploring the dam and foraging for food. It is an adorable glimpse of their “buddy system” as they venture farther a field (and closer to Cheryl’s camera) than they have ever gone. Since mom’s death and their “adoption” by the bi-yearling, they are much more cautious because they have the luxury of caution. They’re also waking up later which means their tummies are fuller and they are probably being fed in the lodge. We saw the first kit at 6 on Saturday night, but not until 8 on Sunday.
These two seem to come in tandem and are nearly the same size. A smaller kit usually comes on its own and is much less skilled at swimming and breaking off branches, let alone diving. That’s the one that rode on mom’s back on the June 13th movie. The bi-yearling was present last night, bringing branches in the lodge before going for his “alone time” over the dam. Jon followed him to see what he was doing but he slipped off into the scrape near the secondary dam. It is likely that he is marking the territory to keep other beavers away and checking for trouble. He’s not gone long enough to be feeding and there’s plenty to eat closer to home in the annex.
Dad hasn’t been seen the last few nights, and I got an email from Sarah Summerville of the Unexpected Wildlife Refuge that might explain that.
In Dorothy Richards’ (and our Hope Sawyer Buyukmihci’s) book Beaversprite, she documented seeing “grief” in her beavers at the loss of a mate or kitten. It sounds like the kittens are reverting to younger behavior, and the yearling is probably like a new mother, too overwhelmed and busy to grieve. How is dad doing? Is he business as usual, or is he absent? She documented the grieving parents stayingin the lodge and not eating for several days.
I can’t imagine beaver couples are passionate about their mates, but they are certainly used to them and spend hours side by side in the lodge or working on the dam and that loss could certainly be felt. We’ll keep watch and see what’s up with dad. At the moment I’d like another adult in the pond to keep an eye on the kits when the bi-yearling goes foraging. We are reluctant to leave until he comes back after his little “alone time”, but we can’t be beaver-sitters forever.
I draw the line at working on the dam. They’re just going to have to do that themselves.
Last night we went anxiously to see what happened with our newly “orphaned” kits. The day’s loss was heavy on our hearts but we were worried that our kits could face a tough road ahead. I had a long conversation with Sharon Brown of Beavers: Wetlands and Wildlife about whether our kits were old enough to stop nursing. She assured me they were. And then we watched and waited.
The biyearling (one of our three kits from 2008) has been hanging around the pond more than usual. S/he used to head downstream for long forages on his own. The last few days s/he has been much closer to home and there have been several protective tail slaps seen. This is a sleek, handsome, nearly adult beaver. Last night they approached the area where the kit was feeding and we were hopeful for a full on acceptance of him or her as parent. It didn’t happen at first.
The biyearling brought branches from the dam into the lodge. Then went up on his own and gathered some from the area of the felled tree and brought those in as well, like a suitor bearing daisies to win the girl. He or she swam around protectively and made their presence known. Then we saw this. I’m leaving the audio in on purpose so you can hear the kit whining for care and attention. I wish the sounds of human weeping weren’t also audible, but it was a long day and the whole scene was heart-wrenching.
I realized at this moment that our kits have been “acting older” than they are because of mom’s health. Their foraging and being out on their own was merely an attempt to get food that they couldn’t receive with her. With mom there, even sick, the yearling felt less responsibility to step up and take care of them. Now that mom was gone, our babies were acting like babies again. And our yearling was becoming a parent.
We haven’t heart adult-directed whining for a week or more. Or seen a beaver back-ride since that first film of baby and mom. It’s as if our kits were given a fresh start last night. They get to be cared for and babied. And their dependency activated remarkable parenting in the yearling. It was truly lovely to see.
The light was fading fast, but in the above you should dimly be able to see two kits perched on the biyearlings back and carried into the lodge. Our babies can be babies again, and in the span of 24 hours our biyearling has become a remarkable parent. Surely some of this process is instinctual, activated by the need of the kits and the corresponding need to nurture. But some of this parenting must be learned, because our biyearling had the very best possible teacher on how to be a mom.
Mom beaver was examined at Lindsay and found to be in a very poor state. She had lost a great deal of weight and weighed in at only 34 lbs. The exam showed that one of her upper incisors had broken, and the lower incisors had penetrated her upper palate. The wound was infected and it was thought she was not strong enough to treat. She was euthanized and Jon and I brought her body was brought to UCDavis for necropsy. It is essential that we learn about the cause of her death so that we can be sure the kits aren’t at risk. Clearly her teeth grew too long because she wasn’t feeding properly to sharpen them down, and this was likely the result of another health problem which made it hard to feed. It is unbelievable to me that the kits were first seen 19 days ago. She just barely made it long enough to send them into the world. They are 7-8 weeks old now. She gave them her very last strength, and for that I will always be grateful.
I got a call this morning from Moses who was at Starbucks and had been watching mom and trying to encourage her to go downstream. When Jon & I got there she was curled up in the grass on the starbucks side, very listless, soaking wet and disoriented. She tried once to swim and went across the creek and bumped into the cement wall. Then she came back to the grass and just lay there.
Lots of people were starting to come and watch, and mom was in no condition to get back to the lodge. She was staggering when she tried to move and her teeth were clicking sometimes, you could hear them. Lory came down after my email. Cheryl came out with an animal crate from IBRRC. She and Jon walked down from ward street in the creek. Mom didn’t move or react at all to their approach. Cheryl walked on the creekside and Jon carried the crate and set it with the door open in front of her. Cheryl put a towel in the crate and wrapped a towel around mom from behind and lifted her a little and she went peacefully into the crate. She turned around so she was facing the door, and just laid down. Cheryl and jon laid a towel over the crate and carried it down through the water and back up onto the bank at ward street.
The four of us drove to the Wildlife Hospital at Lindsay and Cheryl’s friend Pam(whose Martinez husband is appears in the video letter to the mayor) met us. Mom was peaceful and not reactive during the ride, chewing sometimes on her towel. She did not smell at all of castor meaning her oil glands had probably stopped working so she was completely unable to groom herself. They brought her in and will call us when they know anything. The vet on duty used to work with Cheryl at IBRRC so she knows all about the beavers and we told them about her condition. On the way we called Jean and she met us afterwards for breakfast where we talked about it.
Honestly when I went down this morning I purposely decided not to bring a camera because I thought it would just be too sad, but I wish I had filmed it so you could all see how completely calm and unpanicked mom was. she just was in no condition to react, and if we had left her alone she was in such a visible part of the creek that people would have intervened and/or called animal control. This way she was completely protected by us and not at all agitated or frightened. It was almost like she knew we wouldn’t harm her, and it certainly felt right, after everything we have been through and all the mornings I have spent with mom to have her riding peacefully in my subaru. We will be out tonight to make sure the kits are feeding and happy. It was becoming clear that the family has already transitioned and the kits have been relying on the yearlings care more and more, which is just like we’d hope.
I’m very grateful for everyone’s help this morning, and grateful that mom gave us the easiest possible decision about whether, when and how to intervene. The saddest part for me is thinking about how hard she must have worked to stick around and care for those three new lives. We can all be grateful for her remarkable parenting and the 15 live births she allowed us all to enjoy.
I thought this morning of this quote from one of my favorite books ever written. It is an amazing tale of a young girl during the holocaust, fearlessly and compassionately narrated by “Death”.
Lastly; the Hubermans
Hans.
Papa
He was tall in the bed and I could see the silver through his eyelids. His soul sat up. It met me. Those kinds of souls always do – the best ones. The ones who rise up and say, “I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come.” Those souls are always light because more of them have been put out. More of them have already found their way to other places. This one was set out by the breath of an accordion, the odd taste of champagne in summer, and the art of promise-keeping. He lay in my arms and rested.
Markus Zusak: The Book Thief
Come tonight if you want to see reassuring beavers and comfort your hearts. Thank you all for your caring and concern. I will make sure to update as soon as we know anything about mom’s health.
Mom seen on dam tonight, swimming and feeding. Went to her private nook but had taken off somewhere by 9:30. Two kits seen, and mother duck with 8 babies. Yearling in residence and keeping an eye on kits.
So mom made it into the lodge yesterday morning and seemed to be swimming okay last night. She curled up in her favorite private nook and was clearly not feeling well, but she wasn’t there this morning so we can only guess that she made it back in the lodge again. There was fresh mud along the length of the dam and clearly the rest of the family spent the night hard at work. Obviously beaver response to death and dying is more advanced than our own, because I was pretty useless yesterday.
Yesterday was hard for all of our beaver supporters and friends. The idea of losing mom, (while its been around since her original eye condition was seen during the sheetpile installation), is especially hard. We thought the fact that she had just produced three healthy kits was a sign that she might be getting better, but it was more likely her last gift to the colony and to Martinez. Seeing her curl up weakly and struggle to eat is heartbreaking for the people who care for her, but caring doesn’t always mean it’s easy to decide what should be done.
Just as with humans, end of life decisions with beavers are very complex. Do we attempt to capture mom and bring her to Lindsay Wildlife for possible treatment or painless euthanization? Or do we let mom stay in her familiar pond with the family she knows and “die at home” so to speak. Beaver Hospice. Very good people can have very different ideas and the emotions of the impending loss make it a loaded discussion. What is clear is that mom has a lot of people whose hearts have been changed by her. We agree that we shouldn’t make a decision based on what feels best or easiest to the humans involved.This is clearly not about us.
It’s hard work letting go of a parent.
Mom 2006: Robert Rust
Still, it was lovely to see the kits and family acting so normal last night, swimming and diving and feeding. Almost as if the world and their family wasn’t changing forever or dying was as natural as getting born. Hmm. Sharon Brown of Beavers Wetlands & Wildlife confirms that our kits are old enough to manage on their own, especially with dad and a yearling to look out for them. We’re grateful for that and we’ll keep you posted.
