Friday, July 24, 2009

A Few New Friends

Hello there! I know, I know... it's been a long time since my last post. Too long, in fact. My intentions have been to update every Wednesday or Thursday evening, since those are generally my least-busy days. Obviously that hasn't happened, but I've had a lot going on.

First, an update on Capone. Although he hasn't really improved, per say, he's come to the point where our walks are manageable. I'm sure it's the consistency more than anything that's done it. Every afternoon around 4:30 PM (assuming I'm home around four) I take him on the same walk around the block. He knows what to expect and what places we'll be visiting, and thus doesn't pull quite as hard once we get started. He's also found several spots of grass along the way in which he loves to roll (lacking any semblance of greenery in his own small pen).

Second, work. I'm desperately trying to finish my goshawk surveys so I can move on to something different. I like being out in the Black Hills, but honestly, these surveys are getting tedious and repetitive. Not to mention the fact that they often take quite a bit of technical hiking and bushwhacking. For those of you who are familiar with the deceptive ploys of a certain "Smokey" the bear, you'll understand when I say that every day I think about how much easier my job would be were it not for fire suppression. I need a machete.

I've been working hard to try and finish the surveys before the end of this month, and up until today I thought I could wrap them up by the end of next week. Unfortunately, however, I came in to work this morning to find a map and a note on my desk with instructions for at least thirty additional surveys... and it's taken me nearly two months to finish the first 100! I was so frustrated with Dwayne this morning I worked up a tension headache. He knows the amount of work he's given me to complete before the end of October. It will be a tall order and take a lot of long days for me to get through everything. Adding another three or four days-worth of goshawk surveys might really be pushing it.

Aside from that little grievance, however, there have been better work-related things going on. As I mentioned in a previous post, for three weeks in July the BLM hosts three small groups of middle school students from Upton, and I've been in charge of the wildlife portion of their course. Every Tuesday evening (after a full day of, you guessed it, goshawk surveys), I meet the new group of kids and their teacher, Luke, at the Beaver Creek Campground just past the state line (I'm generally in South Dakota two or three times a day!). I'll help them start a fire and fix dinner, and then once it gets dark I'll take them out on a short night hike to a nearby pond to do some active bat monitoring.

That cool equipment I mentioned that records bat echolocation? It can be used to actively track bats as they feed, and you can hear their calls out loud. Calls are species-specific, so it's really neat (for me and the kids) to set up some spotlights and watch different species of bats forage over the pond while listening to their echolocation.

We don't finish until late, so I've been camping with the kids, because Wednesday mornings I'm in charge of an additional four hours of their program. The past two weeks we've done some bird watching at camp, then taken a drive to a nearby stock pond where we help them make plaster casts of various animal tracks. We finish the morning with a brief hike along a trail to talk about animal habitats, adaptations to different environments, feeding styles, etc. Then after lunch I usually leave and go off to do even more goshawk surveys. It makes for two extremely long days, and I've been wiped out on Wednesdays and Thursdays (thus my excuse for my lack of posts.... sort of).

There's only one more week of the Upton program, though, and then it will be back to my typical schedule. I've really enjoyed it, however. I'm not terribly fond of kids, particularly younger kids, but when they're really excited about what they're learning/I'm teaching, it's fun. Everyone likes sharing his/her expertise, right?

Interestingly, I've started to attract crowds at my evening bat sessions. The first week it was just me, the kids, and Luke. Last week it was me, the kids, Luke, our office's range management intern, one of our petroleum guys, and our recreation planner. This coming week I'm expecting myself, the kids, Luke, two other teachers from Upton Middle School, the recreation planner, two petroleum guys, one of the petroleum guys' daughters, and who knows who else. I guess word gets round about how neat it is to hear the bats. It's hard to explain, but it's a really unique experience.

So all that's work. And I'm sure by now you're wondering where these "new friends" come in to play. Surely I couldn't be talking about the middle schoolers, right?

Right.

Last weekend I decided to make a trip to Rapid City. I desperately needed groceries from a real grocery store, not one of these "food centers" that we have here in Newcastle. Second, I was bored nearly out of my mind, and there really isn't anything for me to do here during the weekends. The drive to Rapid City isn't necessarily short, although it usually only takes about an hour and half. Nonetheless, any trip made there needs to be made worthwhile, and worth the gas money. So I thought I could kill some weekend time by visiting the Rapid City mall before my grocery store trip.

The mall was small (Rapid City itself isn't terribly large), but they did have a few familiar stores. While there, however, I proceeded to make a series of bad decisions, although they very may well have been preordained. The first of these mistakes was to visit the pet store. The second was to make my way to the corner of the pet store that housed rodents. The third was to send my mom a text message with a picture of some of these rodents.

I'm sure you can see where this is going.

I abhor mall pet stores. I really loathe them. They're typically unkempt, filthy places that sell animals from mills for exorbitant prices, with no care for the social welfare, health, or breeding history of the animal. If you ever need to get really pissed off and passionate about something, start reading about puppy mills.

What initially attracted me to the store was the massive quantities and species of fish they were selling (in fact, I believe the store was called something like "Fish Here Pet Center"). I simply went in to look at the fish. From here I can partially blame the rest on my mom (although I'll hear it from her after she reads this). I made my way back to the rodent section and found, of course, two fish tanks full of rats, one with four females and one with around 12 males. I sent my mom a picture message of two of the males sitting together on an exercise wheel, and she replied "Aww... are they yours?"

And that's all it took, really, to plant the seed. I've been aching for the loss of Cassie. I spent a ridiculous amount of time with my previous two rats, Cass and Gems. Whenever I was home, they were out of the cage and exploring and interacting with me. If they weren't running around doing ratly things, they were cuddled up on my lap or in my sweatshirt. I'd become very accustomed to having them around. When I saw those fishtanks full of rats doing rat-like things, it really tore at me. So I stood there and watched them for a good fifteen minutes. And sent my mom a picture.

When she responded "are they yours?" I thought I'd essentially been "given permission" to pursue a few new rats. I'd previously pushed the idea out of my mind. After all, I have no idea where I'm going to be after I finish my internship here at the end of October, and who would I get to look after them if I end up getting a sweet job in the neotropics for five or six months?

That's what I told myself over and over again as I stood there watching them. I eventually left the store to finish my tour of the mall, but, of course, found myself back in the exact same spot less than half and hour later, just watching them wrestle and run and play. I tried to will myself to leave, but settled for engaging in a text-message conversation with my mom about whether or not I should get some. This turned into a fiasco of sorts, because, on the one hand, I knew it wasn't a good idea, but, on the other hand, I couldn't convince myself it was an entirely bad idea.

I left the store again, left the mall, and walked out to my truck, telling myself over and over again that I couldn't have them, yet all the while devastated at the idea of returning to my empty apartment in Newcastle. I turned the truck on and started to drive away, only to find myself parked in a different spot, adjacent to the mall entrance nearest the pet store. I went in again, and, again, watched them play.

Then I made the final of my stupid errors. I started naming them. Now it wasn't a bunch of rats that would grow up 12 to a fishtank with poor, non-nutritious food, dirty floors and walls, only to be sold as live snake food. It was Henry, and Stanley, that would soon either die from some disease or be fed to a constrictor. How could I stand there and let that happen to Henry? To Stanley?

So, though you've likely guessed long before now, I left the store carrying a cardboard box containing three, 8-week-old male rats. They still have their baby fur and they're ridiculously soft. On the way home I thought about my decision, and the commitment it means. I thought about how long they might live, and all the problems they may develop, and the chances that I may have to find someone to keep them for long periods of time to go off and do fieldwork, as well as the limits I may end up imposing on myself in terms of jobs if I become too attached and don't want to leave them. It was almost overwhelming. (It's also called "instant buyer's remorse," and it's genetic, and it runs in my family. Seriously.)

This certainly hasn't been helped by the fact that, as intended snake food, my new little guys are completely unsocialized, and view me as a very large, scary monster who is certainly just biding her time before she snatches a rat and swallows him whole. They dart away and hide at nearly any fast movement or loud noise, and have been cowering in corners or their plastic tunnel when I come near.

Still, this week, though slowly, we've been making progress. First it was a short sniff of my finger through cage bars, then an acceptance of treats through cage bars. Then it was poking their heads out while I passed, followed by sleeping exposed on the shelves of the cage while I worked on the computer. Finally, today, our biggest breakthroughs yet. This morning they came out from their hiding spots when I got up and got ready for work, and remained vulnerable while I opened the cage door and inserted my hand. This was followed by a lengthy sniffing session. This evening they came out of the cage to investigate when I sat quietly and offered bits of corn.

They're currently running wild in a small play area I've constructed around their cage out of cardboard boxes and duct tape. As I write this, I'm realizing that it won't contain them for long... as they become more brazen they're realizing that some of the walls are pathetic obstacles when matched against a young rat's jumping skills. I need the 3'-high plywood rat pen I built when Cass and Gems were young. Hopefully it won't be too much longer before we start to trust one another and they learn to come when called.

Their names? For some reason, I've struggled with the decision. I knew I was getting Cass and Gems weeks before they came to live with me, and I had a long time to consider my options. These guys were a little unexpected, so even now my decision isn't finalized. I'm torn between my initial choices of Gus, Henry, and Stanley, and the more unique - and less human - names Archer, Bokeh, and Rizzo. (Archer for his nifty arrowhead-shaped mask, Bokeh for his creamy-smooth greyish-brown fur, and Rizzo, short for Rizado, Spanish for 'curly', for his wildly curly tail.) I like both sets equally well, and can see where each name would fit. Therein lies the problem... One set hasn't really taken edge over the other. So until I can get past my indecisive hurdle, I am stuck with nameless rats.

I'll be sure to post pictures once the schizoid side of their natures being to ebb and I can obtain a clear shot or two.

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