Information on working terriers, dogs, natural history, hunting, and the environment, with occasional political commentary as I see fit. This web log is associated with the Terrierman.com web site. Please see this web site for more information on working terriers, or to order the book.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Coffee and Provocation
Hybrid Falcons in Natural History Magazine: The June issue of Natural History magazine has a piece entitled Talon Hunt which details the breeding of falcon hybrids by Tom Cullen and others. The article also gives a nice hat tip to the The Peregrine Fund and the pioneering artificial insemination techniques that have made it all possible.
Domino's Pizza Defaces Neighborhoods: Domino's Pizza is creating urban ads by defacing sidewalks with stencils and power washers that work to "clean" public sidewalks, bridges and retaining walls. Instead of spraying on paint, the power washing blasts away grime, leaving the Domino's name and message behind as a more-or-less permanent commercial. Domino's supporters are calling it "Green Graffiti." It looks like plain old vandalism to me.
The Problem With the Dog is the Owner: Check out the "Dog Owner Threat Assessment Guide" at the SmartDogs blog. "The goal of this draft guide is to provide a free, easy-to-use tool for authorities to employ in assessing a given dog owner’s risk to his dog and the public." Perfect!
Depressing Depression Art: Check out 100abandonedhouses.com, a website devoted to photos of 100 abandoned houses in Detroit, where you can now own a home for less than the cost of a used car.
What are the Odds? As I have noted in the past, the most dangerous animal in America's forests and fields is the honey bee. So what are are the real odds of dying various ways in America? Here are a few numbers: 4Transportation Accident: 1 in 79 4Intentional self-harm: 1 in 117 4Accidental poisoning : 1 in 161 4In a car: 1 in 261 4Assault by a firearm: 1 in 309 4In a water-related incident: 1 in 7,287 4In a bus: 1 in 64,596 4Bitten or struck by a dog: 1 in 115,489 4In a fireworks accident: 1 in 952,786 .
The total round-trip distance is 14,000 to 18,000 km, or about twice as far as the migration of monarch butterflies between Mexico and Southern Canada.
Over 98% of the dragonflies that show up in the Maldives are the aptly named species known as "Globe Skimmers" (Pantala flavescens).
The core idea behind The Ultimate Show Breeder web site is very good, even if some of the points made suffer because the person who created it is just a little too busy rationalizing their own mercenary approach to pet production.
That said, there are some cynical gems to be found here:
Standards: "Standards change because the Ultimate Show Breeders get smarter all the time. The more time we spend in the show ring, the more we understand how correct conformation enhances a dog's ability to fulfill it's original purpose. In some cases, the rather poor specimens seen at the time the standards were written were not even capable of inducing the vision of all the improvements a hundred years could bring. By today's champions those old dogs were of very poor style indeed."
Health: "Above all, remember, health is never to be put before beauty. Beauty is what defines and creates a breed. Beauty is what attracts us to our perfect dogs. Without beauty, there is no Ultimate Show Breeder."
Breeding: "Only an Ultimate Show Breeder is an expert and knows what they are doing when working with dangerous color combinations and extreme inbreeding."
Religion: "The Ultimate Show Breeder worships at the throne of the Barbie doll. This wonderfully molded plastic icon is the perfect representation of the beauty of the female form, and we strive constantly to produce the perfect dog of our breed that so represents the ideal of the canine form. Ultimate Show Breeding is a religion. We spend our Saturdays and our Sundars at the holy ring. We meditate daily on the conformation and structure; we study the ancient texts - the pedigrees and we pray continually over the holy script, the Standard. Not only are we devout followers, we are dedicated zealots, constantly alert to substandard specimens and unethical practices."
Working Dogs: "Working dog people do not care what their dogs look like and pay no attention to conformation. How can they assure their dog is of a proper working structure? The answer is they can't. Their dogs are never given a proper evaluation of their capabilities in the show ring. Their conformation is never assessed for proper working structure. They are too busy 'working' their dogs. Their dogs aren't breeds, they are mutts. The training methods are barbaric and the working breeder often purposefully try to eliminate a breed's naturally full, beautiful coat because they are too lazy to provide proper humane and adequate care for their dogs."
Special Bonus Section: "Transform your puppy graveyard into a butterfly garden ... We'll show you how!" (graphic) .
I'm writing to express my gratitude, and my St. Bernards gratitude, for the information you provided on antibiotics on your website. Without your website, I wouldn't have been aware of Fish-Flex. After 4 years, 5 vets, thousands of dollars and an exhaustive sleepless week of research once I became overwhelmingly fed up, I can finally say my dogs ear infection is GONE!! He had been suffering for years from yeast/staph infections that would never completely go away and had been repeatedly told by all his vets that it would never fully go away and he would always have problems with his ear. They lied. They had been prescribing sub-par antifungal ear washes that contained 2 ingredients that yeast love...steriods and antibiotics or were prescribing oral amoxicillan (which has no effect on Staph) for his staph infection.
I treated his ear with Monistat 1-day everyday for 10 days along with 14 days of Fish-Flex, 750mg/every 8 hrs. with two 25mg capsules Diphenhydramine (Benadryl) to combat any nausea the antibiotics may cause and prevent him developing allergy inducing antibodies against the monistat (miconazole).
It has only been a month since his last dose but it is the only month in 4 years that he has gone without an infection in any stage and there is NO signs of infection returning any time soon.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for providing the information about Fish-Flex (Cephalexin) that helped me relieve my dog of of his suffering.
"In the meat aisle, there are no bones anymore ..."
I have to say that I am NOT scared of my supermarket aisles, nor am I particularly outraged about how food is made or sold in America.
As with so many other things, I vote with my feet and my wallet every time I go out or make a purchase. And guess what? That works!
YES, let us educate more about healthy food.
YES, let's get a better, smarter and more independent Food and Drug Administration.
But should I really be terrifiedabout what is offered up at the supermarket or outraged that grocery stores and restaurants continue to sell us what so many of us seem to want to buy (including packaged meat devoid of bones)?
Not me!
As for the notion that America is going to be saved by switching to organic farms and growing heirloom tomatoes and summer squash, I'm not buying it.
Don't get me wrong: I love organic farms, and I am strongly in favor of more fruits and veggies, and I applaud the growing market for grass-fed beef and free-range chickens.
I am all for treating farm animals better. I want the chickens and pigs to have more room.
I salute everyone who has a backyard vegetable garden and a couple of laying hens.
But let's get real: Most Americans live in cities and suburbs and they are not going to be able to grow all their vegetables and raise all of their meat.
Nor do we necessarily want them to.
Is a back yard farmer throwing Miracle Grow fertilizer and spraying potent insecticides, fungicides and herbicides down the storm sewer "good for the environment"? I doubt it.
And if all those backyard crops are lost to stem rot, blight, cut worm, drought, aphids, and squirrels, is that "good for the environment" too, even after you have figured in the cost of mulch, treated city water, and pressure-treated landscaping timbers? I doubt it.
And then there is the little question of physical labor.
If we get rid of all our corn and soy bean fields, and replace them with locally-grown truck gardens, who is going to pick the lettuce, cabbage, string beans, onions, tomatoes, pumpkins, and zucchini?
A "hobby garden" is a fine thing, but you cannot feed New York, Dallas, Philadelphia, Atlanta, Boston, and Las Vegas on hobby gardens or hobby farms. You need massive plots and you need a heck of a lot of them.
We no longer live in an era of schooners and candles, and with a population of 310 million people in the U.S., and over 6.5 billion around the globe, we cannot afford to farm like we do.
You say you want the world to go organic and embrace a "small is beautiful" agricultural ethos?
Fine, but if so then you better stop talking about food and start talking about family planning.
You see, adding one more human to the population of the world does more damage to the planet than any benefit ever conferred by eating local, eating organic, embracing a vegetarian diet, and reusing, recycling, and doing without.
So let's go back to food -- a much safer and easier topic for most people to discuss.
If you have food crops that cannot be mechanized (and many crops cannot), then you need a massive labor force that will show up on call and without fail to work in the heat and bugs for 12 hour-days, and for as many days as it takes to bring in the crops.
And then, when the crops are in, you need those people to disappear until they are needed again at a moment's notice (i.e. during that magical three-day window when your fruits and vegetables are ready for harvest at maximum value).
How do you do that? Is there a solution to America's food problems?
I think there is.....
What if we all ate more fruits and vegetables, but instead of importing people to grow hand-picked fruits and vegetables, we imported fruits and vegetables grown in countries where there were lots of unemployed hands ready and eager to pick them?
Instead of sending foreign aide to Latin America, Africa, and Asia, how about if we imported more hand-picked food crops from those countries?
To balance out the trade, we might export machine-harvested crops (like corn and soy) and manufactured goods and foods (like dry wall and Coca cola).
But wait, you say:that's what we're doing right now!
You're right! And you know what? It's not such a bad thing.
So what if there is no longer "a season" in America's supermarkets? Why is it such a bad thing that folks can get lemons, oranges, melons and mangoes in winter?
And why don't we stop blaming America's farmers and supermarkets for the fact that so many of us are fat and stupid?
Each of us controls what we buy for food, and what we put in our own mouth.
It's time we stopped infantalizing ourselves and took responsibility for what we eat and how we look.
The problem with the American diet is not in our fields, it's between our ears; the same place it has always been.
You want to look better and live longer? Here's a little secret: eat less and exercise more.
Treat potato chips, pretzels, ice cream, cookies, candy, soft drinks and pastries like a member of Alcoholics Anonymous treats beer, wine and vodka -- complete abstinence.
Don't start and then try to control it. Don't start at all.
Throw away all of your big plates and deep bowls, and your portion size will inevitably shrink, and in all likelihood your waistline will too.
Never drive through a fast-food line again.
Drink more water and try to fast one day a week (tell yourself it's a spiritual thing).
And you know what will happen if you do that? You will lose weight and feel better.
And if enough people do that, the folks who run the grocery stores will put in smaller snack aisles, and smaller soft drink aisles, and bigger and more lavish fruit, vegetable, and whole meat displays.
In short, if we lead with our feet and wallets, America's grocery stores and restaurants will follow.
"Vote with your fork."
It really is that simple -- and it really is that hard.
Since you are the human with the credit card, the cell phone, and the keys to the truck, you are in charge when it comes to emergencies in the field. These emergencies may range from poisoning to traps, from suffocation to laceration.
Whatever the problem, the thing that will matter most in the end is preparation beforehand and quick level-headed action afterward.
Part of preparation is having a decent medical kit with you in the field.
Part of level-headed action is taking the time NOW to think through possible problems and emergencies that might arise.
Field health and emergency situations can be broken down into two categories: critical and chronic. >> To read more
Coming out of the truck, all of the dogs pinged on something, and though they never quite found it (had it gone up a tree?) Gordon was clearly sniffing up a storm. A good sign!
Standing only about 11 and a half inches tall, Gordon has a chest of about 15 inches at age two, and he should be able to get down almost any hole. High hopes!
We had barely entered the first field when Doug pointed up the dirt road that split the field in two. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to something standing at a low point in the road. I peered where he pointed, but it was not clear to me what it was, as it was just a vague silhouette. Then it moved. Ah! A fox! Very nice. I pointed to two areas in this field where I had dug on fox before.
We crossed through this lower field quickly. My intention, I explained, was to start at the back of the next two fields and work our way back towards the truck as the day got hotter.
The good news is that this farm, which has been in corn for the last two years, is in soy beans this year. Though the beans are only a few inches high, we can already see some eat-out from groundhog activity. All good, and it should get better as the season progresses.
After we crossed through a narrow patch of woods into the next set of fields, we let the dogs begin checking the field settes. The holes were frequent and enormous, but no one was home.
We headed to the bottom of the field, and I pointed to a small group of trees and said there were a few holes in there where we might find. We were just walking up to the edge of those trees when Mountain opened up inside. Excellent.
Mountain explores a pipe.
We entered the trees to a find the rock piles that were the reason for the copse of trees. When this farm land was cleared, some 250 years ago, this is where all the old field stones had been pushed. Mountain, it turned out, was under an enormous pile of multiflora rose on the edge of the woods behind a small hillock of cobble-sized stones.
We circled around, and then I waded in with a machete. After about 15 minutes of hacking away at the rose, we found where Mountain had entered. It was another 15 minutes of hacking before we got the rose bushes cleared away enough to dig, and then we discovered the second problem: the ground was mostly rock.
We pounded with bar, spade, and posthole digger for a good two hours just to dig two holes a couple of feet deep. At one point, pure rock dust and sparks were coming up, but not a bit of dirt.
Meanwhile, the noise coming out of the hole, sounded for all the world like a raccoon. No one was more surprised than I was to find a groundhog at the end of this dig -- and not even a very big one at that! He was just a little guy, and yet I swear I have never heard a groundhog make as deep a rumble as this one did, and I have dug many hundreds of groundhogs over the years!
After a quick dispatch, we let Gordon familiarize himself with groundhog smell and Doug put the snare on the dead groundhog and played a short lure game with it --a good way to get a dog interested in chasing a "live" groundhog that is in fact dead and can do the dog no harm.
Gordon gets his first smell and taste of groundhog.
Meanwhile, I laid out flat on the dirt. Damn it was hot! I had forgotten to put sun screen on my head, arms or neck, and I could already feel the burn creeping into me. Ouch!
We headed down to the river, about a hundred yards below us, so the dogs could get some water and we could get come shade. It was really nice by the water, and I could have spent the day there, but after the dogs had tanked up and we had cooled down, we headed back up to the fields to see what we could find.
Mountain and Pearl were noodling up the field when we realized Gordon was not with us. Where had that dog gotten to? Doug circled back and found Gordon just inside the tree line, baying at a hole! Wooeee! How good is that? Go Gordon!
Gordon locates his first groundhog all on his own!
Gordon knows he has done good and found his calling!
Gordon slides a litle ways into a hole. A good sign for the first day out.
Proud papa after a first find with new dog.
Doug was pretty pleased, but I was even more stoked. Wow! If a dog will locate this easily, it will enter too. Gordon was going to be an honest hunting dog yet, and maybe before the day was out.
Sadly, the sette where Gordon located was an absolute root-vault. Though Pearl and Mountain could get in up to one body length, enormous roots blocked the rest of the way. The groundhog, it was clear, was dead-center under the tree. Without a chainsaw, there was going to be no shifting him. But who cared? Gordon had found a groundhog all on his own! Yippee!
We walked back up the field, but the dogs were still not interested in any of the enormous field settes. Beans growing in the mouth of several of the holes told the story -- they had not been occupied for weeks. We would hit them another day.
As we crossed over into the next field, I told Doug that I had spotted a very red fox in this field the week before. I could see it just as I had crowned over the top of the little hill that was right ahead of us. And guess what? There he was again!
I was pretty sure I knew this fox, as I think he is the same very red fox I bolted from a sette one field over back in February. I see a lot of fox, but not many are this red! It was nice to see something I had let go -- something I can dig to later again. I dig on a fox in season, but I do not kill them, as they do no harm on any of my farms. Oddly, the farm I do work that has loose chickens on it does not seem to have fox -- all of their predation is by raccoon. I think the absence of fox dens on that farm is almost solely due to the absence of water. A fox likes to den near water.
We headed down the field and past more enormous settes with no one home. We tucked into the tree line, but found nothing, and circled back up into the field. Now where was Mountain? We waited a bit, but when she did not appear, we went back to where Doug had last seen her. Yep, she had gone to ground. And this time, it was definitely a raccoon!
There was more multiflora rose here too, but not as much as at the other sette, and the ground was actual dirt except for one really large rock which Doug managed to shift on his own.
Mountain was having a lot of fun at this hole, and we left Pearl staked out, while Gordon checked things out, loose on top.
Mountain checks a bore hole into the sette.
After a bit of digging we had the raccoon at a stop end, and we barred behind it in order to get it to bolt to a pole snare.
After showing the raccoon to Gordon, we staked him out and released the raccoon. We then filled in the holes and led Gordon loose to see if he could locate the raccoon again. The short answer was: YES. Gordon began pinging on an enormous groundhog sette just a little ways away. Excellent.
We decided it was time to go -- we were both tired, and Doug had at least a five-hour drive back to North Carolina. In fact, due to traffic, it took him 7-hours. A long day!
Mountain staked out at the end of the raccoon dig. Her job was done.
Pearl staked out at the raccoon dig. She'll get her turn next time.
At the end of the day, Gordon was the smart one, resting as we filled in.
Digging bar in foreground, machete in background, glove at right, tired dog in the middle, dirt underneath. The very essence of terrier work!
All in all this was a really excellent day for Gordon. He got to smell fox twice, he saw his first groundhog and located one all on his own too, and he saw his first raccoon and got to relocate it after it was allowed some law to find a new hole.
It would have been hard for Gordon to see more and do better on his first day out in the country. I think this is going to be a great little dog!
A rescue, of pedigree unknown, and 100% terrierman approved!
Crufts is also going to be back on television, albeit in seriously reduced circumstances. Instead of being on BBC1, it will beshown on "More 4," a niche digitial television station, and instead of the excellent camera work and editing done by the BBC, the videography will be done by a company called "Sunset+Vine" -- a "pay to shoot" outfit employed by The Kennel Club this year to film Crufts and put it on Youtube.
Is The Kennel Club still paying Sunset+Vine to do the filming, and is it giving the video tape to "More 4" to show for free? Hard to say, but it sure smells like it.
What is clear is that larger and more respected venues like Sky Television and Animal Planet will not touch Crufts, which is now seen as a canine freak show for people whose personal need for ribbons and rosettes far outweighs their concern for canine welfare and health.
If you stand for dogs, you can no longer be seen standing at Crufts! .
Peggy Noonan, Ronald Reagan's speechwriter and brain, says of Sarah Palin in The Wall Street Journal:
In television interviews she was out of her depth in a shallow pool. She was limited in her ability to explain and defend her positions, and sometimes in knowing them. She couldn't say what she read because she didn't read anything. She was utterly unconcerned by all this and seemed in fact rather proud of it: It was evidence of her authenticity. She experienced criticism as both partisan and cruel because she could see no truth in any of it. She wasn't thoughtful enough to know she wasn't thoughtful enough. Her presentation up to the end has been scattered, illogical, manipulative and self-referential to the point of self-reverence. "I'm not wired that way," "I'm not a quitter," "I'm standing up for our values." I'm, I'm, I'm.
In another age it might not have been terrible, but here and now it was actually rather horrifying.
Talk about missing a bullet! Can you imagine this woman in the chain of command, one heart-beat away from the Presidency? Can you fathom a party that would salute that, ever? .
In the world of working terriers, there seems to be quite a few more dog dealers than terrier diggers.
"Kennel reduction" sales seem to be as common as ticks in August, and "Bay Dogs Online" always seems to have a perpetual advertisement up from some Patterdale or Jagd Terrier person anxious to sell off another dog to a gullible public. Perhaps the dogs are all fantastic. Who knows? Caveat emptor, is all I can say!
The folks I know that work their dogs do not have massive kennels, as it takes too long to make an honest worker in the field, and a pregnant dog is a dog out of commission for too long. Plus, everyone has a real job these days, don't they? There are not too many professionalterriermen and game keepers left who dig on their own dogs three days a week and muck out 20 kennel runs at night! Here in the U.S., there are none!
Of course, in this world of one-minute rice, most dog dealers cannot be bothered with actually working their own dogs, can they?
Why work a dog yourself when you can simply buy two dogs from some "name" and then claim your own excellent stock is descended from so-and-so?
And why dig on the dogs at all, when you can simply live-trap a raccoon and toss it on to a barn floor where you can snap a picture or two of it being ripped at by two, three, or even six dogs?
What is fascinating to me is that this reprehensible behavior seems to be centered around a few owners of only one particular terrier breed: the Patterdale Terrier.
You do not find wannabe dog fighters in the Jack Russell Terrier community, among owners of working Teckels, among Border Terrier owners, or among Plummer Terrier breeders. Most Patterdale terrier owners and workers are fine upstanding people too, but if you do find a twisted person in the world of working terriers, you can be sure they will be selling Patterdales.
What is the attraction of the Patterdale Terrier? The answer, I think, is that it is different. Everyone wants to be different, and in this way everyone is exactly the same. You can walk a Patterdale on a leash and no one at the park or coffee shop is going to know what it is. When asked, you get to tell the tale of how special your dog is -- a certified fox killer that can bore through cast iron on will power alone.
Then, of course, there are the get-rich-quick folks and the rosette chasers, both of whom have been anxious to get in early "before the market gets flooded."
But, of course, the market is already flooded isn't it? Patterdales are now being swapped for replacement auto parts by guys like this fellow, who so very clearly wants to be a dog-fighting man. This numskull proudly shows off a picture of his daughter's pet pig, killed by his own incompetence as a kennel manager. Below that he shows off three of his terriers baiting a live raccoon caught in a trap.
People sometimes ask me for breed or breeder recommendations, and I am generally noncommittal.
You see, I am less interested in the breed of terrier or kennel name, than I am in the size of the dog, its demeanor in the field, and what kind of real work its dam or sire has done. Size is particularly critical: If the dog is too big, I could care less what breed it is, who bred it, or what storied names are claimed in the pedigree.
People who value paper pedigrees seem to think you can buy a working terrier, but I know that the provenance and track record of the sire and dam only tell part of the story. The rest is determined by how the dog is entered and how much experience it is given in the field.
I do not require an exceptional and storied lineage to get decent results. After all, terrier work is not all about the dog, is it? But you would think so to listen to the theorists. If a dog does not work out, they complain about how they bought a crap dog. You never hear the slightest introspection about themselves as being crap terriermen.
Which brings me to the real problem in the world of working terriers: Too few people are actually digging on their dogs, and too many people are peddling puppies. Why is this?
Perhaps it is because working a terrier is suspiciously like work. There are tools to be bought, farm permissions to be obtained, and basic knowledge to be acquired. All of this is easier now than it was a twenty years ago. At least one working terrier book has practical advice, but it still requires some effort, doesn't it?
And how many people will stick with it? Not many!
For most, the theory of terrier work is more romantic and interesting than the reality which comes with freezing winds, scorching sun, sore muscles, muddy boots, and lots of scratches and bug bites.
And then, of course, there is the rare, but big, veterinary bill. Spend enough time in the field, and you will find that terrier work will eventually come with a veterinary tag attached to it. Are you prepared for an expense that could easily tip past a $1,000 due to a run in with barbed wire, a skunk, a porcupine, or a very serious bite? If not, then terrier work is not for you.
You see, if you are taking a dog into the field, then you have a duty to the dog.
Just as a terrierman does not expect his dog to cut and run at the first sign of difficulty in the hole, neither should the dog see its owner cut and run as soon as there is an out-sized veterinary expense.
If you are serious about terrier work, then you need to be prepared to stand with the dog with your credit card in hand if that is ever needed. Will you need to do that very often? No -- not if you learn some basic veterinary skill. That said, when push comes to shove, everyone who digs will eventually have to reach deeper into their pocket than they are comfortable with. Be willing to pay up when needed, or get out. It's that simple.
OK, now for some advice. You say you are looking for a working terrier? Fine: Here's a guide to how to think about breeders and (perhaps) where to find a decent dog:
Consider an adult dog, especially one from Jack Russell Terrier Rescue. 4With an older dog, you will actually know the chest size of the dog, which is critical. Most of the time there is nothing wrong with a terrier in rescue other than the fact that it is an honest working dog with real energy and prey drive. In short, Jack Russell Rescue probably has what you want!
Focus on chest size. If the person trying to sell you a dog does not know the chest size of his or her dogs, keep looking. 4Only chest size is verifiable by sight alone, and nothing else is more important to the success (and health in the field) of a working terrier. You want a dog with a chest of 14 inches (the same as a fox). Most properly proportioned working terriers with correct chest sizes will stand between 11 and 12.5 inches tall at the shoulder. Females will almost always be smaller than males.
If the person trying to sell you a dog does not own a locator collar, a $60 shovel, a digging bar, and a veterinary box, keep looking. 4If you must get a puppy from a breeder, that breeder should be regularly digging on his or her own dogs. Anyone who claims they are selling working terriers, and who does not have proper digging tools, is a liar. Never buy a dog from a liar.
If the person trying to sell you a dog is putting a lot of emphasis on show ring rosettes or the "brand names" to be found on a paper pedigree, or on the work he or she claims the sire or dam did for someone else "long ago and far away," keep looking. 4A working terrier is not defined by rosettes or scraps of paper, but by the work it has done in the field for the current owner.
If the person trying to sell you a dog does not have pictures of his or her dogs working dirt dens in the country you live in, and on the quarry you intend to hunt, keep looking. 4The work of a terrier is underground, and real work is done close to home, not across an ocean in a land far away. You are looking for real work, not romance. If you do not intend to work brush piles and barns, stay away from brush pile dog dealers.
If the person trying to sell you a dog has a web site which shows pictures of his dogs staked out to massive chains, keep looking. 4Dogs staked to heavy chains are a sign you have run into a wannabe dog fighting man who is starting a get-rich-quick scheme. Run (don't walk) away from such people.
If the person trying to sell you a dog tells you his dogs are mute or "as hard as iron," keep looking. 4An honest terrierman (or woman) is not digging three times a year, and has no use for a dog that will not communicate and that will get wrecked in the hole. Terrier work has more to do with nose, nerve, voice, and brains than it does with teeth, muscle and aggression.
If the person trying to sell you a dog tells you the breed or color of a dog matters, keep looking. 4Working terriers come in all colors and many breeds; anyone who says different is selling you nonsense.There is more variation within working terrier breeds than between them.
If the person trying to sell you a dog will sell it to you sight unseen, and with no knowledge of your home or kennel set up, keep looking. 4A true dog man or woman cares about his pups and is not doing a mail-order business to nameless, faceless people.
If you demand that your dog be a puppy, and you are also serious about work, the first dog to consider is a Jack Russell Terrier or working dachshund (i.e. a Teckel). 4There is nothing wrong with a good Patterdale, and if that is your heart's desire go with it. Just be awarethat there are too many people breeding these dogs now, and as a consequence the delicate balance needed in a successful working terrier is too often absent. Caveat emptor! As for Border Terriers, most are too big to work and even fewer actually do work. If you are looking for a small working terrier out of working stock, a Border Terrier that fits the bill will be exceedingly difficult to find. Jack Rusell Terriers have one advantage: the Jack Russell Terrier Club of America which keeps a track record not only of the size of terriers in their registry, but also of the work that at least some of the dogs are doing. Working Teckels are rare in the U.S. but a miniature dachshund from working lines always has a chest small enough to get to ground, and they are blessed with fine noses and good voices as well. Their only drawback is that short legs can present problems in certain situation (most notably very tall and thick grass or very steep rock).
Ozzy Osbourne's Pomeranian, Little Bit, was eaten by a coyote at his family's Los Angeles home on Tuesday while Ozzie and his wife Sharon were watching the Michael Jackson tribute/ funeral on television. True! >> To read more
If you want to fully understand the difference between the U.K. and the U.S. when it comes to wild lands and wildlife management, take a tour of the various State Department of Natural Resources (DNR) web sites.
For example, consider this pamphlet entitled North Dakota Furtakers Educational Manual, put out by the North Dakota Game & Fish Department and available on line from the Northern Prairie Wildlife Research Center (part of the USGS).
In the U.K. they have banned all trapping, and instead of collecting taxes from trappers, they pay their government to go out and pump poison gas down tens of thousands of badger settes in order to control brucellosis Bovine Tuberculosis.
Here in the U.S., we regulate and license hunting and trapping with real seasons, bag limits, and a solid tradition of habitat protection. In fact, most states that have legal trapping actually produce manuals on how to trap (as does the National Audubon Society).
And what helpful hint does North Dakota Furtakers Educational Manual suggest for trapping red fox? Just this:
SUGGESTED BAITS: Fresh or tainted flesh such as rabbits, mice, ground squirrels, birds, etc.; partly decomposed flesh of house cats, fish, woodchucks, mice or small mammals.
Imagine DEFRA in the U.K. suggesting baiting a leghold trap for fox with a bit of "partly decomposed flesh of house cats!"
Cranking out this blog is suspiciously like work. It's a one-person job, done late at night, on top of a full-time job, two kids, three dogs, a wife, a yard that needs attention, and a lot of other obligations.
So why do it? Mostly because it's a forced way for me to learn. Secondarily, however, it's because every once in a while someone writes in to say they have done something right by the dogs.
Dear Patrick Burns,
As the subject implies I would like to thank you for the information, knowledge, and experiences you have posted on your website and blog. My name is Caleb I am 25 years old and in February of 2008 I went out to adopt a dog. I was looking at all the local shelters and in all honesty was looking for a medium sized shaggy haired dog. While looking online I saw an American Eskimo mix that I thought was just the most beautiful thing, and decided I wanted to meet her.
Well I went to the shelter, a very beautiful well kept no-kill shelter at that, to meet this dog. She hated me and kept nipping at me. I was very disappointed and started just meandering around the shelter. Now at this shelter the dogs are kept in these little "rooms" instead of kennels or runs. My girlfriend was with me and passed one of these rooms and when she looked in there was a small travel crate inside. She asked if anything was in there and the man said there was and opened the door. He then proceed to open the crate and out ran this gangly, smooth coated, odd looking brindle puppy standing around 10 inches tall.
This little puppy was just the cutest thing to me. I asked what it was and was given an answer of "We aren't sure, it is some kind of terrier mix." I was smitten but the sinker for me was that this dog zeroed in on me and completely ignored everyone else in the room. I felt a connection that I had never felt with any canine before. So I adopted him on the spot.
He was about 5 months old and a whole new world for me. You see growing up we had shelties, medium-sized mutts, and a few Chihuahua's. Never once had my family owned a terrier. Boy was I in for a surprise!
The little dog, which was named Vario (it means various in Italian), grew and became a hell hound. As he matured he became increasingly aggressive towards strangers and other dogs. I did everything the books told me to do. I became so crazed on research that I looked up training methods from some of the most drastic things to the 100% reward training method, and every obscure training method in between.
This was all before he was even a year old. In my desperation I started researching terriers, something I should have done in the first place, and it was uncharacteristic of me to not have, because I've been an exotic reptile owner for most of my teen and adult years. I always told people before they purchased a reptile to always research first. Anyway in my research I realized that Vario looked like a slightly taller, smooth coated, brindle JRT. So my research switched to that breed.
I found that his temperament fit that breed perfectly. This eventually led me to the JRTCA and to your website. I poured through your website and then your blog. I devoured through every article on the JRTCA's website that I could dig up. Then I started to find terrier people in my area and asked lots of questions. Over time this led me to take him to "terrier fun days." I also completely changed my training methods to fit that of a terrier. Over all this time, I diligently stalked your blog and gleaned every ounce of information I could.
Vario is around a year and eight months now. He almost never shows aggression towards people or dogs. Occasionally he does have slip ups with people, but his temperament is constantly improving. We have been working on prey introduction. Sadly I won't be able to do actual earth work with him because he got a little to big, standing at 16 inches tall with a much too large chest span. Because of this little dog, I've become completely enamored with the JRT. I'm hoping one day to own a dog that I can do earthwork with, but until then Vario has been an immense learning experience.
All and all if it had not been for the information on your blog/website and the information on the JRTCA's website I probably would have given up one of the best things to come into my life. Thank you.
Sincerely
Caleb Malcom
Vario and Caleb -- full tilt happiness. Hat's off to the two of them! .
The latest issue of Dogs Today arrived in the mailbox, and the two lead articles are on: 1) Whether the Dalmatian outcross will be allowed in The Kennel Club (article by Claire Horton-Bussey) and; 2) What has occurred in the last year since the BBC documentary Pedigree Dogs Exposed blew the doors off the dog world last August (article by producer Jemima Harrison).
I also slip in a small piece on dog food, noting that the quality of the dog food matters far less than the quantity, as more dogs are wrecked by obesity than any single cause, while no study has ever shown than one dog food is better than another.
Jemima Harrison's article about the Kennel Club is excellent (I have not yet gotten to the Dalmatian article - that is for tomorrow's read). I especially liked it where she compares problems at The Kennel Club to the problems faced by the old London Zoo "which not so long ago was down on its knees, a relic of the Victorian age, run by people in the entertainment business, not conservation."
She goes on to note that the London Zoo is now a completely changed place. And what changed? The leadership at the top! Ms. Harrison goes on to note that:
"Coincidentally, it is the president of the [London Zoo], Sir Patrick Bateson, who is heading the most critical review into dog breeding prompted by Pedigree Dogs Exposed. This is the review commissioned by The Kennel Club and Dogs Trust, and so they are likely to take heed and act on its findings."
On a personal note, I have to give a huge hat tip to Dogs Today illustrator Kevin Brockbank. His art work is absolutely smashing. Jemima Harrison's piece has Kennel Club Chairman Ronnie Irving crying at his desk as he reads the Crufts press headlines following the BBC documentary. A border terrier (Irving's own breed) is chewing on his cuff, and there is even a Kennel Club logo on his coffee cup! Perfect! My own article is illustrated with a very nice homage to the breeding (and painting) of enormously fat "square" cattle during the era of Robert Bakewell, albeit with a dog as the subject of the portraint, instead of a cow. Nice!
Now let's see what Kevin can do with next month's article, tentatively entitled Counterfeit Collies and Transvestite Terriers. There's a lot of potential there!
To read that article (and see the art that will come with it), however, you are going to have to subscribe to Dogs Today. .
"The closer you get to Canada, the more things there are that'll eat your horse"- The Missouri Breaks
A dog dealer emailed me a few week ago. I will not name him or post my complete note back to him, but I did enjoy pricking the balloon that terrier work of any kind is big game hunting in truly wild country done by hardened macho men.
You can only believe that nonsense if you have never been close to big game, never been in truly wild country, and never known a truly dangerous man. As I noted:
Yes we hunt [with terriers] in America, and we hunt without apology and within the law. But it's not exactly big game hunting, is it? This is small potatoes stuff, and the strutting and braggadocio that goes on among dog dealers (almost all of them Patterdale people) is funny when held up to the cold light of day.
Raccoon, groundhog, badger, and fox are not exactly mountain lions, grizzly bear, and wolves are they? Let us tamp down the notion that we are big game hunters involved in mightly life-and-death struggles with fierce, killer fighting dogs. It's not true. That's the romantic rhetoric of a dog dealer.
Who cares what color a dog is, where it came from, who bred it, or what piece of paper is associated with it? Let the dog work,and the work will speak for the dog. No grand stories of heroic valor need to be told. No foreign origins need to be assigned, and no references to fighting dogs need ever be made.
Of course that's not the story told by the dog dealers, is it? And especially not the wannabe dog fighting men so often associated with Patterdale terriers these days.
Like parents who have sent their children off to Lake Wobegone Summer Camp, every dog dealer has to convince you their dogs are "above average." To do that, they must tell you their dogs are tougher, bigger and harder than the next. Their dogs are "the real deal" they will tell you. Accept no substitutes.
Really? I need a tougher dog? Why is that again?
After all, a fox, raccoon or possum cannot dig away. Surely this dog dealer knows that? And surely this dog dealer knows how to dispatch quarry at the end of a dig?
Just asking...
But, of course, so many do not know how to handle quarry at the end of a dig, do they? Cuff a fox out of a hole? Tail out an animal bare-handed? How do you do that? So many have no idea!
And the evidence of ignorance shows, doesn't it?
How many of these dog dealers count as success not pictures of quarry dug to, but pictures of dogs with ripped muzzles?
This is success?Hmmmm.
Where I come from, we count success as showing a creature at the end of a dig, and a dog that has come to no serious harm as a result of a job well done by the human working in partnership with the dog.
Now, of course, some animalscan dig away -- badgers and groundhogs for example. There is no denying it.
And yet, with some amusement, I note that one of the pictures of a wrecked dog on one of the anti-sites (the worst picture on there!) shows a Jack Russell Terrier ripped across the snout by a groundhog owned by an Englishman who was told groundhogs were no tougher than hamsters. He has learned since! They are not wolves or grizzly bears, to be sure, but they are not quite hamsters either, are they? Yes, they have teeth and will use them, but let us admit the truth: they are small game, and adding macho swagger to the idea of slipping one in the bag is silly if you actually know what it is you are doing.
But each to his own.
I suppose if you only dig a few times a year, every dig has to be an expedition, every raccoon or fox has to be a giant, and a slashed muzzle is a never-mind. After all, these folks have no real intent of going out digging next weekend too, do you?
Most of the time, it's lunch, according to The Journal of Wildlife Management which abstracts a new paper entitled: Observations of Coyote–Cat Interactions:
Coyotes (Canis latrans) pose a risk to domestic cats (Felis catus). We captured, radiocollared, and tracked 8 coyotes from November 2005 to February 2006 for 790 hours in Tucson, Arizona, USA. We observed 36 coyote–cat interactions; 19 resulted in coyotes killing cats. Most cats were killed in residential areas from 2200 hours to 0500 hours during the pup-rearing season. Single coyotes were as effective killing cats as were groups (>1) of coyotes. Documented cases of predators killing cats could encourage cat owners to keep their cats indoors and assist wildlife managers in addressing urban wildlife issues
The picture, above, is from a trapper who lives about 12 miles north of where I typically hunt. In a 53-day trapping period this fellow brought in 1,220 fox.
Any question about whether Maryland and Virginia have the best fox country in the nation?
Regulated fox trapping does no harm to fox populations, as the fox populations compensate by having slightly larger litters, while mortality due to mange and starvation tends to decrease due to an abundance of food and less back-to-back den occupation.
That said, most fox do very little harm, as free-range poultry is increasingly rare, and the primary diet of fox is not farm stock, but mice, voles, berries, roadkill, gut-shot deer, beetles, bugs, and the occassional rabbit, rat, nesting bird and baby groundhog. For more about fox, see the review of David MacDonald's exellent book, read the squibs about both Gray and Red fox, and see the Fox Year page
Maryland and Virginia were the first states to import red fox to the U.S. and also were the first states to import fox hounds.
In Great Britain, rabbit hunting with ferrets has never been easier as this 1998 article from The Independent makes clear.
Within the last 10 years ... three innovations - one technical, one medical, and one nutritional - have radically transformed ferret-keeping in Britain.
The technical innovation is the invention of the electronic ferret locator. This is a device about the size of a box of cooking matches, which picks up signals from a tiny transmitter attached to the ferret's collar, thus enabling the ferreter to locate and dig out a working ferret should it "lie up".
In the past, the dreaded "lie up" was the bane of the ferreter's life. A lie up is when a ferret is put down a rabbit hole, and after running up and down for a bit, and perhaps killing and partially eating a rabbit, she simply curls up and goes to sleep. Like all carnivorous predators, ferrets are big sleepers, especially after a meal.
Before the invention of the locator, the ferreter faced with a laid-up ferret had several options - all of them incredibly time- consuming. One was to put his head as far down the rabbit hole as possible and try calling his ferret out. A potentially embarrassing method this, if attempted on or near a public right of way. Another was to paunch a rabbit and try to entice the ferret to the surface with the smell of rabbit's innards. And failing these, the ferreter had to nip home and get his nastiest, most anti-social hob ferret, tie a length of string to it, and send it down the hole to give the sleeping ferret a wake-up call.
And failing that, the ferreter had to sit there all night, or until the ferret decided to come out of its own accord. It has been argued that over the years the "lie up" has contributed more to the countryman's reputation for surliness than anything else.
But these days all a ferreter with pounds 69. 50 to spend on a ferret locator has to do is wave it about until it picks up the signal, turn the dial until he gets a depth reading in feet, then dig down to the ferret, trying not to decapitate it with the spade as he gets in close. No fuss, no mess, no time wasted. The improvement in the quality of life of the average locator-owning ferreter has been immeasurable. If, for example, a ferret lies up just as the ferreter is thinking about packing up for the day (normally enough to induce apoplexy in all but the most phlegmatic of ferreters in the bad old pre-locator days), with any luck our man can locate his ferret, dig it out, fold his nets, paunch his rabbits, whittle a stick, and still be back at the caravan in time for the first reading of the football results.
One might have imagined that new-fangled electrickery such as this would be slow to catch on with country people practising a hunting technique unchanged from that depicted by early medieval tapestries. Not so. Once they were in the shops, news of the ferret locators spread through country districts like myxomatosis. And elderly ferreters who had never before set foot inside a pet shop were queuing on the step to buy one. In no time at all, the popularity of the little-understood ferret locator made it the countryman's equivalent of the mobile phone.
The second innovation to revolutionise ferret-keeping was the perfection of a surgical technique for vasectomising hobs (male ferrets). One of the many curiosities of the ferret is that unless the jill (female) is served by a hob once she has come into season, she may die. (When a jill is in season, her vulva swells up like a football, so this should be fairly obvious, even to a novice ferret-keeper.)
In effect this meant that ferret jills were constantly producing litters, which needed to be fed, and if a litter came late in the year, the mother was temporarily unavailable for work. With two litters per year at, say, seven kittens per litter and a full-time ferreter only needing three or four hard-working ferrets, the majority of kits were surplus to requirement. Of course, rather than raise these unwanted litters, the normal practice was to knock the youngsters on the head - or "make sailors out of them", to use a country euphemism - maybe leaving two to suckle the milk. But now that British veterinary practices are able and willing to vasectomise hob ferrets for as little as pounds 20 a time, everyone concerned is a lot better off than they were. The ferret-keeper's life has been simplified because he no longer has to anxiously study his jill's vaginas or commit infanticide; the jills are satis- fied; and once the vasectomised hob gets over the shock of the operation and finds himself being lent out all over the district, he can't believe his luck.
... The third, and in many ways the most crucial, advance in ferret welfare came four years ago, when a pet food company called James Wellbeloved began marketing a dry, "complete" ferret food. Ferrets require a high- protein diet, and this has meant that, in the past, ferret-keepers had to keep their charges supplied with meat, ideally in the form of paunched rabbits. But as ferrets will eat any meat, in any condition, no matter what the live animal has died of, they were given anything from butchers' offal to frozen day-old chicks to fallen livestock to long-dead road-casualty badgers. It wasn't that long ago that if you saw a car stopped in the middle of the road and the driver out and busily scraping a dead crow off the tarmac, you could put money on it that she or he was a ferret fancier trying to save themselves a few bob.
... Feeding decomposing flesh to ferrets is OK in the winter, but in summer the flies are terrible. On the whole, therefore, what with the imperative to feed ferrets on flesh, and the attendant flies, and the smells, and the reputation of the ferret as a psycho killer, ferret-keeping was never an attractive proposition for the squeamish, the fastidious, or anybody who wanted to remain on speaking terms with their immediate neighbours.
The advent of a dry, odourless, complete ferret food has changed everything. Suddenly ferrets are coming to live indoors as housepets. A damp draughty hutch as far away from the house as possible, with a week's droppings piled up in one corner, and a paunched rabbit slung in every once in a while, is now the exception rather than the rule.
If you were stationed in Kyrgyzstan, what might you see if you got outside the base?
The short story is that this is a country where most people travel on horses, and the culture seems to be stuck 250 years in the past.
The national sport, to give you some small idea, is centered around playing keep-away with a dead goat, with both teams fully mounted and galloping around at full tilt. How come we don't have fun sports like this in the U.S.?
In any case, The Boston Globehas put up a few pictures showing life in Kyrgyzstan, and I sample a few below. Click to make bigger and got to the link to see the full set. You will note that a fair number of pictures are of ethnic Kazakhs. Most folks in Kyrgyzstan, of course, are Kyrgyz.
Wolf-bating with a chained wolf. Action gets ...
Reaction.
Sheep herding in a land of wolves and horses.
A Kazakh hunter flies his golden eagle.
Kazakh hunters in full dress with golden eagles. .
I am a pet psychic. Just give me $300 for thirty minutes, and I will tell you all the deep thoughts your pet is having. Cash in advance through PayPal. I work by telephone, and only need a picture of your pet. Crystals and aromatherapy "medicine" sold separately. .
One of the small logic holes in Nathan Winograd's otherwise fine book, Redemption (review and summary here) is his notion that trapping and releasing feral cats is just fine, as they do no more damage than fox, raccoon and possum.
OK. I'll bite. You see, I hunt fox, raccoon and possum. Can I hunt feral cat too?
Trying to reason with the feral cat mafia is like, well, herding cats. In response to a plea for keeping cats indoors a feral-cat loving wacko (if you’ll excuse the redundancy) screamed this at a biologist acquaintance of mine who was giving a presentation on endangered birds killed by free-ranging cats: “If you’re so worried about the birds, you should keep the THEM indoors.” Such is the mindset of the cat mafia.
Finally, a peer-reviewed study published in Conservation Biology has given the lie to the urban legend that TNR works. Here’s the abstract:
Abstract: Many jurisdictions have adopted programs to manage feral cats by trap–neuter–return (TNR), in which cats are trapped and sterilized, then returned to the environment to be fed and cared for by volunteer caretakers. Most conservation biologists probably do not realize the extent and growth of this practice and that the goal of some leading TNR advocates is that cats ultimately be recognized and treated as “protected wildlife.” We compared the arguments put forth in support of TNR by many feral cat advocates with the scientific literature. Advocates promoting TNR often claim that feral cats harm wildlife only on islands and not on continents; fill a natural or realized niche; do not contribute to the decline of native species; and are insignificant vectors or reservoirs of disease. Advocates also frequently make claims about the effectiveness of TNR, including claims that colonies of feral cats are eventually eliminated by TNR and that managed colonies resist invasion by other cats. The scientific literature contradicts each of these claims. TNR of feral cats is primarily viewed and regulated as an animal welfare issue, but it should be seen as an environmental issue, and decisions to implement it should receive formal environmental assessment. Conservation scientists have a role to play by conducting additional research on the effects of feral cats on wildlife and by communicating sound scientific information about this problem to policy makers.
New Ethical Breeding Magazine: Ryan O'Meara is cranking out a new publication for ethical dog breeders. When I first heard of it, I thought it was a joke -- a nice cover with blank pages, perhaps? But no, Ryan is dead serious in improving the health of dogs, and he thinks there are enough ethical dog breeders out there to support such a publication. I hope he is right, and I salute his efforts.
Roadside Justice: North Carolina has put up a roadside marker commemorating the thousands of people sterilized "by choice or coercion" under the state eugenics program which, believe it or not, was in effect until 1973 (1973!). How's that relate to dogs? Sadly, quite directly. Read >> The Eugenics Man and the Kennel Club on this blog.
Veterinarians Finally Speak Out About the Obvious: For more than 50 years, veterinarians have stood by in silence while the Kennel Club has saluted dogs that are defective by design. And why should veterinarians speak out? After all, nothing improves the bottom line in a veterinarian's office more than a waiting room full of teacup dogs with dental problems, dysplasic shepherds, and pugs with bulging eyes. And so, I note here something quite unusual: a veterinary article that talks about the health problems of bulldogs. Now, it should be noted that this article came out AFTER the Kennel Club itself admitted there were very serious problems with the breed, and so I do not think this piece can yet be count as a true "profile in courage." Let's see if this is a "one and done" kind of thing, or whether we are going to see more articles about defective breeds and breeding . That is surely needed, isn't it?!
The Amazing Treat Machine: The Amazing Treat Machine is made of cardboard, which means it would last about 15 seconds with my terriers. That said, it's very low cost ($15), an interesting idea, and making one out of solid wood would not be that tough ...
Say What? I know a dog man from the U.K. who sounds like this fellow. I have to stare at the ground and give it all just to tease out a few intelligible words when he start up, but it does get easier in time.
World's Record Largemouth Bass Caught in Japan: The title sums it up: 22 pounds 5 ounces and certified, beating the previous record from Kentucky by one ounce (a record which has stood for 77 years). The race for the world's largest Largemouth Bass may not be over yet, howevr; a 25-pound bass was reportedly netted earlier this year from the same Japanese lake.
Sarah Palin Is Over: God's gift to the Democratic Party has announced she will be resigning as Governor of Alaska, not even completing one term. Is she pregnant again? Is her 14-year old daughter pregnant? Was she one of Governor Mark Sanford's many lovers? Is she doing this because Levi Johnson has promised to write a "tell all book?" Or is she just a serial quitter (remember, she quit her last job)? Who know! One version of "the scoop" is that she is about to be Federally indicted for stealing money from (... wait for it ... ) an earmark she got for the Wasilla hockey rink sports complex back when she was mayor of that tiny little town. Allegedly, she and Tod worked with the contractor to divert money and materials from the sports complex to build their own little house on the Tundra, ala Ted Stevens. And yes, we have written about Sarah's klepto problems before. See >> Sarah: It's Not About the Shoes. All I can say is this: Please, please run for president Sarah. Now that Michael Jackson is dead, we need the entertainment.
The Washington Post as Pimp As unbelievable as its sounds, The Washington Post has been trying to pimp out both its reporters and the Obama Administration. After a health care lobbyist got a come-on letter asking for $25,00 to $250,000 to get access to Washington Post parties and events where he or she could rub shoulders with Obama Administration officials and Washington Post health care reporters and editors, the paper has tried to scurry backwards and cancel, cancel, cancel, while denying everything. Too late! The secret is out: The top management at The Washington Post thinks their reporters are street whores high priced call-girls. The White House, apparently, had no idea (and neither, we are told, did the reporters). The Washington Post's excuse: We are losing millions of dollars a month on the newspaper and have to do something. Right. And whores have to pay rent.
A Storm Barrier for Coastal Louisiana The Louisiana coast is under constant threat from storms and hurricanes. What to do? The folks at Popular Mechanics suggest making the Gulf Coast America's "bamboo belt." Not only will bamboo create massive amounts of fiber, but it will stop storm surge like a wall of rock while slowing soil erosion and providing a cash crop. Sounds like genius to me!
Is Cloning a Moa Next? The tallest bird that ever lived was the 12-14 foot tall Moa of New Zealand, which disappeared before 1400 AD. All in all, there were 11 species of Moa, ranging from 40 to 600 pounds. Early settlement sites in New Zealand are littered with Moa bones suggesting they were a favorite food of pre-European settlers. Now Scientists have retrieved DNA from 2,500-year-old Moa feathers. What caused the Moa to go extinct? As I have noted in the past, it was human population growth.
The Roots of California's Fiscal Mess How did California get into its current fiscal mess? Simple: Proposition 13 back in 1978. Prop 13 was a clever Republican bit of chicanery that capped property taxes. The result: a $5 billion dollar state surplus evaporated overnight, with services and education funds quickly slashed to the bone. California has been sliding straight into the toilet ever since.
The case can be made that America might not exist today were it not for "our Founding Terrier."
Robert Brooke of Maryland introduced foxhunting to the United States in 1650 and imported the first pack of foxhounds from Great Britain.
Dr. Thomas Walker of Virginia (who discovered the Cumberland Gap and for whom the Walker Coon Hound is supposedly named) imported another pack to Virginia in 1742. The first fox hunting pack maintained for the benefit of a group of fox hunters rather than for a single owner, was instituted by Thomas, Sixth Lord Fairfax, in 1747 in northern Virginia.
Walker and Washington were good friends and business partners, and were co-owners (along with Washington's brother-in-law) of the "Dismal Swamp Land Company" (1763) which was to develop land near present-day Norfolk, Virginia. Walker was probably the person that got Washington started in fox hunting.
Washington moved to Mount Vernon, on the Potomac River just below Washington, D.C., after marrying Martha DandridgeCustis in 1759. It was at Mount Vernon, while still in his 20s, that George Washington first began fox hunting in earnest, setting up a rather lavish set of kennels and carefully breeding a new line of American foxhounds that were faster, lighter and less pack-centered than their English brethren.
In 1768, Washington was appointed as a delegate to the Continental Congress in Philadelphia and managed to fill his need for fox hunting at the Gloucester Hunting Club across the River from Philadelphia in New Jersey near present-day Haddonfield.
It was largely because of social and political connections made while fox hunting that Washington's social prominence rose, and in 1775 George Washington was Congress's unanimous choice as commander of the new Continental Army that was to lead the American forces against the British.
In truth, Washington did not have the forces and equipment to wage a successful fight and hold ground, and his chief battle-field opponent, General William Howe of Great Britain, was a master tactician.
Howe defeated Washington time and time again. In August of 1776 Howe landed on Long Island, captured New York City and defeated Washington at White Plains.
In 1777 Howe defeated Washington again, this time at the Battle of Brandywine (near present-day Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania) and took Philadelphia.
In October of1777, the Battle of Germantown was waged. This battle took place near Philadelphia, and it too was a defeat for American forces, but it was a turning point in the war.
The turning point occurred when a small fox terrier was found wandering between the battle lines. The little dog was scooped up by American soldiers and the dog's collar identified it as belonging to none other than General Howe.
The dog was brought to Washington as a war prize -- a taunt to use against the British -- but Washington was having none of it.
A true dog-man, who missed his own fox hounds and terriers at Mount Vernon, Washington personally wiped the little terrier clean and brushed its coat. He then dictated a short note to his aide-de-camp, Alexander Hamilton, and secretly tucked a private note of his own tight under the collar of the dog. The dog, and both notes, were then returned to General Howe under a flag of truce.
Washington's private note has not survived, but Howe was extremely pleased by it. The public note, a copy of which has survived (see picture below), reads: "General Washington's compliments to General Howe. He does himself the pleasure to return him a dog, which accidentally fell into his hands, and by the inscription on the Collar appears to belong to General Howe."
After his terrier's return Howe praised Washington's actions as an "honorable act" and historians note that although he continued to win his battles, he never pursued Washington with quite the same vigor.
In fact, when ordered to fight harder and show the rebels no compassion, Howe resigned in protest.
Howe was replaced by General Henry Clinton, who was a poor tactician, and General Charles Cornwallis, who was a poor field commander.
In the end, the United States won the war and Washington returned to his beloved Mount Vernon where he continued breeding fox hounds and chasing foxes at least once a week.
Shortly after returning to Mount Vernon, Washington imported massive hounds from France with the help of his friend the Marquis de Lafayette. American hounds were crossed with these new French imports, and some of the progeny were sent to the Gloucester Foxhunting Club, outside of Philadelphia, where they proved extremely popular due to their speed.
In 1787 Washington headed the Virginia delegation to the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia, and again his friends at the Gloucester Foxhunting Club lobbied for his election as the first President of the new country.
After the Constitution was ratified, Washington was unanimously elected President and in time the new Capitol was constructed just down river from his Mount Vernon estate.
My house is about 20 minutes away from Mount Vernon and sits on what would once have been Lord Fairfax's estate. Family legend (via Annie Walker Burns, founder of the Kentucky Mountain Laurel Festival), is that Dr. Thomas Walker is a relation of ours. It might be true too -- in Kentucky, anything is possible.
Draft of note from George Washington to Howe, in the handwriting of aide-de-camp Alexander Hamilton.
According to The London Times the folks in the U.K. are laughing too. One Mick Sheed, who seems to be a dog dealer who talks a great deal, said he had sent 26 Patterdale terrier puppies to America.
“The fellas in America have loads of money. They seem to pay mad for what they want. I have sent 26 over to them. I sent one bitch and she didn’t work, because they tried her too young. But I could say nothing, so I said ‘kill her’, and I sent them another one instead. That’s the story with them.”
Eh?Who is "them?"
No one I know is wrecking dogs by working them too young, nor are they killing dogs that don't work out, nor are they baiting animals of any kind.
Anyone who knows their ass from a turnip seed knows how to start a terrier off slowly and how to start it off right. No one I know is baiting animals.
Nor is anyone with a lick of common sense paying any more for a working terrier than they would for any other kind of hunting dog.
But of course, not everyone has sense, do they? If we are to believe The London Times (and I am not saying I do):
One dog, called Booth’s Bruiser 2, was sold for €10,000 in January to BarnburnerPatterdales Kennels in Iowa, America.
It was? Really? You mean this battered old dog was sold to someone in America for €10,000 ($14,000)?
Well, I have no direct knowledge, but I have a hard time believing anyone would be silly enough to pay that amount of money for a working terrier.
Surely that is a typo? Or perhaps Mick Sheed -- the man selling the dogs in Ireland -- is so full of crap he is spouting it for breakfast? That must be it. After all, perfectly good Patterdales and Jack Russells can be had from good breeders right here in America -- genuine earth dogs with good drive, excellent noses, and common sense with real field experience.
If you want to go overseas for a dog, go right ahead, but for €10,000 or even $10,000 you could go to England and Ireland for a month, get everyone you meet dead drunk, and buy a box full of good dogs for souvenirs. And if you did it that way, you might even know what you had bought and who you had bought it from!
Of course, if you did it that way, you also might not get laughed at in the London Times by the very dog dealers you were frequenting. Nor would you have to post pictures on your own web site of six dogs (six!) mauling a live raccoon on a barn floor.
That's terrier work?Really? Not where I come from.
That's something entirely different I think, and it's the kind of ugly stuff that imperils real terrier work where ever (and whenever) it is done.
And here's the most incredible thing: Someone thought this was such a great representation of their dogs in action that they featured it on their web site. Wooeeeee!
Fence up people!Does this really need to be said at this late date?
Well, in the interest of being "fair and balanced," I will let Stephen Colbert present the opposing view. It's about a minute and a half in at the clip below.
Brian Nuttal, a rather famous breeder and worker of Patterdale Terriers, was asked by the editors of the Fell and Moorland Working Terrier Club's Annual Yearbook (Volume XXX): "Have you any strong dislikes about Terrier sport or its participants?"
His answer:
"One strong dislike I have is the type of Terriermen who kills everything they dig or bolt, cubs or adults, and sell for fox pelts. They are usually the first to complain when quarry is scarce. I know these people are in the minority, but they give a bad name to all. Most of the foxes I dig or bolt are released unharmed, unless they have been doing damage to poultry, pheasants or the like."
Mr. Nuttal's thoughtful answer indicates someone who has a solid understanding not only of the dynamics of fox population densities and diet, but also someone who understands that terrierwork can easily be harmed by the ham-fisted, the ill-advised and the poorly taught.
For more thoughts on ethical terrierwork, see >> here .
Two squibs, which I think benefit from juxtaposition:
Dog World reports that Eukanuba has withdrawn its support from the agility classes at Crufts. Prior to Eukanuba'swithdrawal, Pedigree dog food, the BBC, Hill's dog food, the RSPCA, Dogs Trust, and the PDSA (Britain's leading veterinary charity), had all withdrawn from Crufts. Crufts major sponsor is now a company that sells half-priced sofas.
K9 Magazinereports that Jemima Harrison, the producer of Pedigree Dogs Exposed for the BBC, has been awarded the RSPCA's highest honor "for her commitment to the welfare of pedigree dogs." It is the first time the RSPCA award has gone to a filmmaker. For the record, Pedigree Dogs Exposed was commissioned by Richard Klein, the Executive producer was Eamon Hardy for the BBC, and the cameraman throughout was Jemima's partner, Jon Lane. Congratulations to all!
Back in March, I reported on Lauren Wolfe, aka Autumnbriar, aka Laura Antretter, describing her as "a person that has routinely popped up on the working terrier boards" and someone whom I considered insane, and a threat to dogs in general, and terriers in particular.
Here are the conditions dog wardens and humane officers found when they executed a search warrant at Autumn Briar Kennel on Feb. 12, according to court documents:
"Fecal matter and urine covered the floors on every level of the residence. Six dead dogs were found in the basement area along with a dead cat. The dogs were all in their crates, and the floor of the basement was completely covered in excreta.
"Surviving animals at the residence/kennel did not have food and water. The coats of the animals were covered with fecal matter and wet with urine and the dogs were so emaciated, the affidavit further states, that the skeletal structure was 'easily observed, to include the ribs and hips.'
"There was a pigpen in the garage containing approximately two feet of dried fecal matter and a dead pig. The pig’s internal organs were missing or pulled apart.
"Twenty-seven living dogs were removed from the property on Feb. 12. The next day a second search warrant was executed at the property and more dead animals were removed, including eight dead Jack Russell Terriers, one dead goat, five dead Lurcher puppies, a dead adult Lurcher female dog and six dead hamsters."
Sadly, this kind of thing is all too common in the world of dogs -- hoarders, psychopaths, dog fighters, get-rich-quick con artists, and people with serious financial, emotional and mental problems.
I wish Lauren Wolfe (aka Antretter) mental health, true peace, and economic prosperity.
But I also pray that the court will step up and bar her from ever owning any kind of animal ever again. After all, this is not the first time she has been down this road; animal cruelty charges were also filed against her 12 years ago, and still the Pennsylvania Dept. of Agriculture gave her a kennel license to house nearly 100 dogs.
Too much enforcement by the Pennsylvania Dept. of Agriculture? No, I don't think so! Not this time. Enough is enough. .
A shop owner in Brakpan, South Africa, was tired of people breaking into his yard/shop so he came up with the idea of shaving his dog like a lion. Everyone in South Africa recognises a lion, and now he has no problem with thugs! South African ingenuity - we call it 'Boer maak 'n plan'.
"Boer maak 'n plan" is an Afrikaans saying which means: "A farmer will always make a plan." And yes he will! Brilliant, I would say. True genius.
Back in March of this year, I wrote a piece on this blog entitled Lie Down With Dogs, Get Up With Fleas in which I bemoaned the inevitable ruin that comes when the world of working terriers is invaded by wannabe dog fighters and and badger baiters.
That post noted that some 17 months earlier I had written a piece entitled Honey Pots and Trolls in the Land of Eire in which I had noted that someone in Ireland had gotten on the boards to bash a piece I had written two years earlier (now more than four years ago) about the old Irish "strong dog" tests and the potted histories that you commonly find for all Kennel Club dogs, including the Glen of Imaal terrier.
I warned what I suspected: a "honey pot" operation was in operation, and it was designed to harm the legitimate world of the working terrier by trying to associate it with dog fighting and badger baiting.
Sadly, I was right, and the result has not only been busts in Ireland, but also bad press on the international front as well.
Perhaps now is a good time to review my original March 2005 post, in which I quite succinctly noted that Baiting Dogs Are Not Hunting Dogs.
It seems this is a point that still needs to be stressed and underlined.
The confusion in some minds stems from the fact that shortly after the turn of the 20th Century, some show-ring pretenders in Ireland tried to suggest that Ireland's overlarge turnspit, fighting, and cart-guarding dogs were once used for genuine field work.
That's not quite true, is it?
Those Irish Kennel Club dogs were always far too large to actually go to ground, and so "artificial" work had to be cocked up for them.
At the "minor trial," we see a couple of rabbits released, and a bunch of confused dogs sniffing around on the ground. Some terrier trial!
At the "major trial," we see the true "work" of these over-large Irish dogs: Badger baiting with a live badger in a smooth wooden den liner or barrel.
This is pretty far from genuine terrier work, isn't it?
And what does genuine terrier work of that era look like?
The good news here is that we do not have to guess, as here too we have a film clip, also from 1923, this time of properly-sized working terriers going to ground.
This is real terrier work, and you will notice there is no "strong dog," "pull dog" or "hard dog" nonsense in evidence.
These men are not show-ring pretenders, get-rich-quick dog dealers, or wanna be tough guys displaced from the world of fighting dogs. These are real terriermen, and this is what real terrier work looked like in 1923 -- and what it still looks like today, albeit with a much smaller entourage and clothes that are not quite so fancy.
If you work your dogs regularly, you learn to value both the dogs and the quarry.
A smart digger learns to slip a spade between the dog and the quarry if it is at a stop end -- especially if it is a raccoon or a fox that cannot dig away. Why let the dog get injured when it has done its job, which is to locate, bolt, or bottle the animal in a stop end? The dog is valuable, and so too is the quarry.
Any fool can terminate quarry.There is no skill in killing. If it must be done (it is often a requirement for farm permissions when it comes to groundhogs), it should be done quickly with a gun or blow to the head.
Better yet is to let the animal go, especially if it is a fox or raccoon. If you hunt every weekend, it is too easy to bleed a farm white by killing off all the fox and raccoon in a matter of weeks.
If you must have a fox or raccoon on the mantle, buy a finished taxidermy piece -- it will be no more expensive, and you are guaranteed a good mount of a large specimen in prime coat.
Best of all, let your trophy be a picture. A shot down the hole is proof and memory enough of a dog that has done its job.
For those that prefer a picture of the complete animal in the full light of day, make a light-weight pole snare and learn how to use it. The design at the link is my own invention, and it works like new money.
In the picture at top, the snare is set, with the digging bar placed vertically in the pipe to slow the fox down a bit and steer it into the snare.
A fox or raccoon can be snared around the neck, but a groundhog has no neck, and so at least one leg has to pass all the way through the loop before it is pulled tight. And, for the record, the little fellow at right was released unharmed.
. . . . .
This post is recycled from this blog circa Jan, 2005. And yes, I am still using the same snare and the same bar!
Ken Burns has come through again. His new venture is a 12-hour, six-part documentary series filmed over the course of six years at some of our nature's most spectacular locales: Acadia, Yosemite, Yellowstone, Grand Canyon, Everglades, and Gates of the Arctic.
This is a story about the people who made it possible: rich and poor; famous and unknown; soldiers and scientists; natives and newcomers; idealists, artists and entrepreneurs.
This land is your land.
The series premieres Sunday, September 27th, 2009.
Fox populations are exploding in the U.K. and the issue of control is moot. The only question now is whether it will be through vehicle impact, starvation, disease, poison, shooting, snares, or a return to hunting with hounds.
A bipartian Parliamentary group in the UK, working with the Veterinary Association for Wildlife Management, has issued a new report [PDF] which concludes that hunting with dogs is the most effective way of controlling foxes, and that all arguments of cruelty are "invalid" as predation by larger canids has been the way of the fox since before man walked the earth.
The publication goes on to to note that hunting with hounds is "demonstrably the natural and most humane method of control," and there was "never any scientific evidence" to support a ban.
The all-partyparliamentary Middle Way Group worked with the Veterinary Association for Wildlife Management (500 veterinarians across the U.K.) to produce the document, which concludes that the hunting ban of 2004 is "unscientific, unenforceable, socially divisive, and harms, rather than improves, animal welfare," and called for the ban to be repealed.
Alison Hawes, regional director of the Countryside Alliance, said the findings were another step towards the repeal of the ban which the organisation has been campaigning for: "We are now looking at the probability of a repeal, rather than the possibility. The ball is really rolling in that direction."
David Cameron has already pledged the Conservatives will hold a free vote on the issue in Parliament if they come to power in an election likely to be held next year.
Trapping is not an option for fox control in the U.K., as it is in the U.S., because the use of traps was banned in the 1950s. Ironically, the ban on traps was supported by the mounted hunts who thought it would strengthen their hand as the "preferred" method of fox control. >> To read more >> To read the press release [.doc]
"Flowbee may be used on pets with a Pet attachment. Please note when cutting your pets coat down to 1/2" inch, it is essential to use the pet attachment. This will keep the pet's skin in place."
I have been a bit of a physical wreck recently, first with elbow bursitis (drained, and now fine), and then falling 12 feet off a cliff (I could have fallen 90 feet so I am not complaining) which strained a ligament in my right knee and buggered my right elbow.
The right elbow is now fine, and the right knee is about 90 percent (it only hurts a little when I go up stairs, and get in and out of the truck).
So am I all better? Not quite. Now I have tendinitis in my left arm!
No matter. I went digging yesterday despite the tendinitis, and though my left arm hurt a bit, my knee held up under the weight of the pack and the tools, and the dogs had a blast.
Mountain is, literally, standing on her head to pull out a small groundhog being bolted by Pearl.
Pearl with one of the three small groundhogs taken this day. We bolted another small one, and also a raccoon which skittered to freedom thanks to one of the unseen holes in a brushy six-eyed sette.
Pearl listens to Mountain underground.
Mountain can be seen just inside this enormous old tree trunk. There is a groundhog pipe right in the middle. She has found there before, but I never even try to dig it. No one home today.
Mountain and Pearl look to retrieve a dispatched groundhog that gravity slid back into the hole. Where did it go? .
First, Luisa over at Lassie Get Help, manages to find a genuine Shenandoah Mountain Cur -- a breed first made famous by Custer who had two of them during his Virginia campaign, one of them named Smoky, and the other Fire. Fire died at the Little Big Horn, but Smoky (the better dog, and a gift to Custer from Queen Victoria through Lord Buckley) survived. Until Luisa's magical find, I was sure the Shenandoah Mountain Cur was extinct.
Now Doug, over at the Harris Hawk Blog has managed to find what must surely be one of the last Kill Devil Terriers in existence -- a dog made famous by Orville and Wilbur Wright.
The first Kill Devil Terrier was acquired by Orville and Wilbur in 1902 at Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina while they were waiting out the weather to test their second big glider.
The dog came to the Wright camp with a load of food rations. The old man who drove the food wagon out to the dunes came out with the dog, and no one noticed he did not leave with it until very late in the evening, when the dog appeared over a dune, just in time to lick the pots clean from the evening meal.
It was two weeks before the wagon returned with another provision of food, and during that time, Wilbur and Orville became very fond of the dog who not only kept rats and Grey Fox out of the rations, but who also served as a quick and ready wind sock.
Years later, Orville would note,
"The dog was key. Without him, we might have died long before we got off the ground, for we were terrible at gauging wind velocity. It was Wilbur who noticed that we never had any real success unless the fine fur along the dog's ears was riffling out in the wind. After that, we never flew without asking the dog's permission."
In fact,the absence of a Kill Devil Terrier at Fort Myers, Virginia is said by some to have been the cause of the first avian fatality in the world. While some blamed the crash on a crack in the right propeller, it was properly pointed out that everything was smashed after the crash, and that the absence of the dog, named Flyer, was only real variable from earlier successful flights.
After that, of course, it was considered bad luck by early fliers not to have some sort of representative of a Kill Devil Terrier with them at all times.
Some simply carried a small stuffed dog, or painted a small picture of a Kill Devil Terrier near their landing gear, but others -- particularly early barnstomers -- had the real thing with them whenever they traveled.
Over time, as technology progressed and superstition subsided, fewer and fewer avaiators took real dogs with them in their airplanes, and today many flyers have never even heard of a Kill Devil Terrier.
The last pure Kill Devil Terrier known to exist prior to Doug's discovery was owned by Amelia Earhart, who disappeared with her dog while flying over the Pacific in 1937.
What an amazing thing to rediscover a remnant population of these dogs still in existance, and just 10 miles from Kill Devil Hills, too!
Remember, when we were kids and people said the birds "flew south" for the winter?
Well, believe it or not, that was about all we knew for a lot of species.
Birds disappeared flying south in the Fall and came back, flying north, in the Spring. Where these birds went, exactly, and what they did when they got there, was a bit of a mystery.
Beginning in the 16th Century or so, some bird owners (pigeon fanciers and falconers mostly) began banding or ringing the legs of select birds to establish ownership.
The first record of a metal band attached to a bird's leg was in 1595, when one of Henry IV's banded Peregrine Falcons was lost in pursuit of a bustard in France. It showed up the next day in Malta, 1,300 miles away!
In the early 19th Century, the world began to get a glimpse into the scope of avian winter migrations, thanks to an arrow in the neck. Atlas Obscura tells the story:
Until the 19th century, the sudden annual disappearance of white storks each fall had been a profound mystery to European bird-watchers. Aristotle thought the storks went into hibernation with the other disappearing avian species, perhaps at the bottom of the sea. According to some fanciful accounts, “flocks of swallows were allegedly seen congregating in marshes until their accumulated weight bent the reeds into the water, submerging the birds, which apparently then settled down for a long winter’s nap.” A 1703 pamphlet titled “An Essay toward the Probable Solution of this Question: Whence come the Stork and the Turtledove, the Crane, and the Swallow, when they Know and Observe the Appointed Time of their Coming,” argued that the disappearing birds flew to the moon for the winter.
On May 21, 1822, a stunning piece of evidence came to light, which suggested a less extra-terrestrial, if no less wondrous, solution to the quandary of the disappearing birds. A white stork, shot on the Bothmer Estate near Mecklenburg, was discovered with an 80 cm long Central African spear embedded in its neck. The stork had flown the entire migratory journey from its equatorial wintering grounds in this impaled state. The Arrow-Stork, or Pfeilstorch, can now be found, stuffed, in the Zoological Collection of the University of Rostock. It is not alone. Since 1822, some 25 separate cases of pfeilstorches have been recorded.
What happened next? Well, quite a lot.
The 19th Century was a period of explosive scientific discovery, and people began to move beyond simple banding to establish ownership, to banding as a method of tracking birds across time and space.
Among the first to step forward in the name of Science was John James Audubon, who attached small ringlets of silver wire to the legs of a brood of Phoebes near Philadelphia so he could firmly establish that birds raised in one area were the same ones who later returned to nest in that same area.
In 1899, Hans Mortensen, a Danish school teacher, took the idea of bird-banding one step farther, and began banding wild birds with metal rings that had his name and address on them. It was Mortensen that invented the system of bird banding we use today, though it should be said that it was the Smithsonian Institution, here in Washington, D.C., which really popularized bird-banding, and made it an avenue of mainstream scientific inquiry.
For about 100 years, bird banding was how we tracked bird migrations around the world, and to tell the truth, it was not that great a system.
In a world of billions of birds, only a small fraction-of-a-fraction were ever going to be banded, and most of these were ducks or geese which had an obvious economic value. Smaller birds of no obvious value were much less likely to get banded, and only those birds shot or netted ever had any hope of having their identifications seen, much less returned to the proper data-keeper.
The result: until only a decade or so ago, we still had a very imperfect knowledge of where birds went when they "flew south" for the winter, and we knew even less about where they stopped and fed along the way.
The good news is that in the 1990s, the process of electronic miniaturization progressed to the point that scientists could begin to put transmitters on really large birds like hawks and cranes, and data from those transmitters could be uploaded to satellites. Today, the science of miniaturization has progressed to the point that it's possible to put a transmitter on a hummingbird -- even a dragonfly -- although we still need an airplane or car to follow on behind the smallest of transmitters.
It is hard to overstate how important electronic tracking is to wildlife management and protection. A small story, however, might give a clue.
Three of the very first miniature electronic tracking transmitters capable of linking up to a satellite were attached to Swainson's hawks back in 1994. Within a few days, two of the transmitters conked out, but the transmitter on the third bird retained power and showed the hawk traveled from southern Canada down the American Midwest into Mexico, Guatemala, Costa Rica, and past Ecuador into the Pampas region of Venezuela.
Scientists quickly scurried off to see if they could locate the animal.
What they found in Argentina was both amazing and disturbing.
The amazing part was that Swainson's hawks, which are solitary hunters in North America, assembled into large communal flocks of as many as 7,000 birds on their winter hunting grounds.
The disturbing part was that in Argentina Swainson's hawks lived on swarms of locust-like grasshoppers, which were being systematically poisoned by organo-phosphate pesticides.
The bug spray, in turn, was killing off the Swainson's hawks in droves.
As they drove into the area where the hawk's signal had last been heard from, scientists were alarmed to find thousands of hawks already dead under their roosts.
To make a long story short, that year 25 percent of all the Swainson's hawks in the world were killed by pesticides in Argentina -- a phenomenon that would never have been known had it not been for wildlife tracking telemetry.
The good news is that by switching to different types of pesticides, Argentina's farmers were able to sharply reduce grasshopper infestations while doing little serious harm to wildlife --a "win-win" for all sides.
As you might suspect, the brave new world of wildlife transmitters is still giving us a lot of new information, and great stories as well.
For example, one of fifteen Black-tailed Godwits released in the Friesland area of the Netherlands last Saturday arrived in Senegal in West Africa on Tuesday morning. The distance of 2,500 miles (4,000 kilometres), was covered by the bird in two days of nonstop flying.
Today, scientists are able to track bird populations around the globe, and load this information into graphics-based data bases so the general public can follow these epic migrations.
And it's not just birds that migrate, is it?
On every continent mammals, birds, fish and even insects migrate extraordinarily long distances.
It's not just Monarch butterflies that fly south for the winter for example -- it's a lot of dragonflies as well.
And it's not just herring and salmon that migrate out of oceans and up our rivers and streams -- it's perch and eels too. Out in the oceans, shark, tuna, whales, penguins, and sea turtles are swimming vast distances in never-ending seasonal circles, as they have for millions of years. On land we have long-distance migrations by caribou, bison, pronghorn antelope, elephant, wildebeest, and zebra.
How do the animals find their way? No one is quite sure.
No doubt there are a lot of factors that help guide them -- the position of the sun, wind, smell, temperature, sound, and visual landmarks, for starters. We know, for example, that when pigeons get closer to home, pigeons will actually follow roadways, same as you and I.
Migrations at night, when most birds fly really long distances, however, may be due to an internal magnetic compass that is hard-wired into the brain and working off of a bit of superoxide.
And it's not just birds that have this bit of electro-chemistry firing off in their brain -- bats do too.
And if bats (mammals) have electro-magnetic compasses in their brain, why not fish?
The main benefit of wildlife transmitters, of course, is that by tracking animals -- so many of which move about only at night -- we are better able to protect vital wildlife and ancient migration corridors.
That's a benefit for everyone -- the wildlife, hunters, and Mother Nature included.
On a more personal level, of course, the tremendous strides made in wildlife transmitters over the last two decades, have been an enormous benefit for those of us who engage in highly-skilled primitive hunting with dogs, hawks, falcons, and ferrets.
Yes, hawks and falcons are still lost rather routinely, but falconry transmitters and Yaggi locators offer some hope of recovery.
In the world of terriers and ferrets, the development of small low-frequency transmitters means long layups underground and long and dangerous digs are less frequent than they once were.
Even houndsmenand pet owners have benefited, thanks to tracking collars to serve their variousneeds.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Want to read another amazing bird migration story? Check out A Shearwater's Endless Summer from a March 2007 post to this blog. .
They already have 261 others in the collection, from whale to elephant, and from hamster to fox. That's an elephant penis at top. Various pickled members are displayed below.
Can't get enough of this topic? No worries -- check out our other blog articles, below.
I was never a huge Michael Jackson fan, but I will give a hat tip to the fact that he was a very gifted musician and dancer, and had a social consciencerevealed in such songs as "We Are the World," "Man in the Mirror," "Heal the World," "Cry," and "Earth Song."
If you have never seen this video or heard this song before, there is a reason for that. For whatever reason, "Earth Song" was never released as a single in the United States. .
Stupid on a Stick: Fetchstix is trying to sell the canine equivalent of a "pet rock." Picture above for the unbelievers. Instead of buying this kind of crap, how about making a gift to a local canine rescue ... or even a human shelter?
Revenge of the Deer: Feral dogs kill a lot of deer. Now comes a report of deer killing pet dogs. The Missoulian reportsthat a dachshund was killed by a deer in its yard and that a 3-month-old Yorkshire terrier was stomped to death by a doe.
Lynx Return to Colorado: Lynx seem to have have finally taken hold in Colorado. The population is still small and perilous, but we havea second generationnow.
Spotted Owl Nonsense: I object to contrived crisis, whether it is on the left or the right. An example of acontrived crisis on the leftis the supposed near-extinction of the "Northern Spotted Owl"." Why the quotes? Simple: there is no such species. There is a Spotted Owl, Strixoccidentalis, and only a Spotted Owl. They are common, and cross-breed quite freely with barred owls. A "Northern" Spotted Owl is merely a subspecies of a common animal, and a subspecies is, by definition, not a species. Most bird subspecies are virtually undifferentiated from their main types, and that is true for the Northern Spotted Owl, which is simply a Spotted Owl who -- due to geography -- is living around a lot of old growth timber. YES, preserve old growth timber. But be honest that you are preserving the trees for the trees. It is a good enough reason. Spotted Owls can live in virtually any kind of habitat -- old growth, not-so-old growth, and even desert scrub.
Termites are Smarter than the Kennel Club: Mother Nature abhors long-term inbreeding to the point that female termites are able to reproduce both sexually and asexually. The asexually produced termites (i.e. self-clones) mostly grow up to be queen successors – so-called "secondary queens" – which remain in the termite colony and mate with the king. The result islarge broods of babies without the dangers of inbreeding, as secondary queens have no genes in common with their mate.
Pepper Moths Return to Pre-Pollution Color: Do you remember learning in school about how Pepper Moths in the U.K. had changed their color from mottled white to dark grey-black in order to camouflage themselves better amidst the dirty grime and pollution of the 19th and 20th Centuries? Well guess what? It appears thatwith cleaner air, the Pepper Moth may be reverting back to its original mottled white! This is not only a positive sign for the environment, but also living proof that Natural Selection is at work all around us.
Looks Aren't Everything: After two decades of research, John Byers has shown that female pronghorn antelope do not simply select mates with the biggest body or the most impressive horns, but instead select mates with the best vigor and best stamina; traits that will give their offspring the greatest chance of success.
Governor Mark Sanford on Bill Clinton's Extra-marital affair: "This is very damaging stuff. I think it would be much better for the country and for him personally (to resign)... I come from the business side. If you had a chairman or president in the business world facing these allegations, he'd be gone."
Alec Baldwin Says "Don't Take the Bait" Alec Baldwin says ignore the Sanford mess: "Now is a wonderful opportunity to show the country what Democrats/liberals/progressives/unaligned learned from the Clinton era. Whatever personal problems that public officials deal with privately, leave them alone....The rest of the world is about to kick this country right where it counts when it decides to go off the dollar as the reserve currency, and you want to spend five minutes over the fact that Sanford was cheating on his wife? Don't take the bait. Move on."
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Hybrid Falcons in Natural History Magazine:
