The idea of befriending wild animals sounds benign and helpful. I recall when I was a youngster in the Yukon, there was a night watchman at an outdoor tar pond near Whitehorse who had a regular visitor. A red fox emerged from the darkness at midnight to share his lunch. They had an understanding and no one suffered for it.
Sometimes good intentions lead to peril, though. Depending on the animal species, and at times the person, developing a connection with humans can lead to misunderstandings and, for some, eventual death.
Many wild animals, growing up in a food chain, quickly realize that they’re sought-after for food. They become wary, alert, and ready to flee.
Porcupines are an exception. When I was living alone in the woods, I noticed a porcupine who would show up in the evening. Metabolically slow and careful, it hung around over much of the summer and we became accustomed to each other. One evening two young neighbours came over to visit when I was away. They chased the porcupine away. It never returned.
As a regional wildlife biologist I worked for two decades with wild birds and mammals that had either been orphaned or injured. Different species and sometimes particular characters within one species reacted differently to my attempts to help them after they received veterinarian assistance.
Great blue herons and belted kingfishers became nervous and confused in captivity. They couldn’t settle down to eat well and heal. Instead, they stayed nervous and stressed until, energy exhausted, they died.
Adult owls, eagles, red-tailed hawks, ravens, blue jays, and crows are examples of intelligent wild animals who watch you when they’re in captivity. When you need to force-feed one medications repeatedly, some will hate you for that. Others will realize you’re trying to help. They learn to trust you as an individual, while remaining wary of humans as a whole. That works well!
Many folks underestimate animal intelligence.
A double-crested cormorant that became entangled for a second time in fishing line simply clambered ashore on Sanibel Island off the coast of Florida. It shuffled past the beach walkers, eventually presenting itself again to the staff at the Care and Rehabilitiation of Wildlife Centre. It remembered where to go.
A female bald eagle that I treated with veterinary help became sick again weeks later. She flew back 40 kilometres, landed where I’d released her, and waited for me to come and pick her up.
Many people enjoy feeding wild birds. Outbreaks of trichomonosis, salmonella, and avian flu have prompted many of us to stop feeding. Bird feeders concentrate flocks where a sick bird can easily infect others, including other species. The common practice of feeding white bread to ducks fills their stomachs with empty calories and leads to malnutrition.
Hand-feeding can backfire with birds like black-capped chickadees. The chickadees often assume that other people have seeds for them. The shock of a chickadee landing unexpectedly on someone else’s hand can inadvertently harm the delicate bird.
Folks who raise young raptors need to be careful that the young birds don’t associate food with people. Not long after a young bald eagle was raised and released by well-meaning folks in the Annapolis Valley, it flew to Scots Bay where a couple and their children were picnicking on the beach. The eagle joined them for the meal. Fearing that they were being attacked, an adult killed it with a stick.
Pets often instill in children a sense of caring and respect for other species. Domesticated dogs and cats have learned to co-exist with people. However, when unrestrained, they have a natural, instinctive tendency to stalk and kill wildlife. People in Russia have even domesticated wild red foxes. It takes a few generations of picking and breeding the easy-going individuals to develop a “house fox.”
As a teenager and adult, guinea pigs became my pets of choice. They eat grass, can be social as an adopted member of a human family, and one even managed to teach me when she wanted blueberries for breakfast.
Living in wildlife habitats, my wife and I do our best to co-exist with nature. Individual wild animals like snowshoe hares, barred owls, bobcats, and white-tailed deer soon realize that we mean them no harm and have no predatory pets that might attack them. They get on with their busy lives and tolerate us. Snowshoe hares have let me join in when they play, chasing each other around. My wife hasn’t committed me yet.
Chipmunks casually run over our shoes. That happy situation backfired once. Over a period of five years one curious, endearing female chipmunk named Inty, who dined regularly at the bird feeder and became very familiar and trusting. One day a car arrived in the driveway when Inty was there. She stood up on hind legs to see what was about to happen. A car door opened, a cat leaped out in a flash and bit her. I ran down to find her quivering and dying on the driveway.
Young red foxes in dens on beaches are naturally curious when folks begin arriving with the warm weather. They are frequently given treats from picnic baskets. Soon young foxes are waiting beside the boardwalk to solicit food. That situation can change abruptly when people bring a large dog, and the fox kits end up maimed or dead.
Feeding some wild animals can prove dangerous for people. Black bears, coyotes, raccoons, foxes, bobcats, and white-tailed deer can quickly adapt to easy meals in settled areas. Some will develop food expectations. Strangers who don’t understand that they are being confronted for food sometimes respond in self-defence. That usually ends badly for one or both parties.
Situations with large mammals can quickly get out of hand. There’s an aversion therapy training program for black bears in Montana where offending bears learn to stay away from people, but no facility like that exists in Eastern Canada. It’s difficult for government staff to move wildlife to other places where the animals won’t encounter people and reoffend. Even plant-eaters like white-tailed deer bucks can become dangerous when they are in the rut (breeding season) in the fall.
Around our home, we enjoy living and sharing land and water habitats with many wild species. In time many accept our presence as part of their territory and ignore us. We provided food indirectly by having created the habitats they need. It’s a reality they don’t know, and that’s fine with us!