There
are few things in life better than watching animal behavior. This morning
started with a diminutive red squirrel dangling from my bird feeder while a
gray squirrel sat beneath eating the cast-off seeds. Later during my morning walk I watched Mrs.
Robin gathering tufts of this and that to add to her nest. Then further along,
a male cardinal sat high in a tree calling out to friends and foes alike. A few days ago, while walking the same
streets I came across an unlikely pair, a Great Dane and a Dachshund - and took
their photos. Every animal species whether domestic or wild has
a rich and varied social life - devoid of any need for input from us humans.
I spent a good deal of my life being paid to
watch animals - in my case captive gorillas. Mornings in the Ape House were spent prepping
and feeding - giving drinks, handing out vitamins, cleaning cages, hosing
sidewalks, washing windows, refilling cages with bales of fluffy hay then spreading seeds, popcorn and cereal for the gorillas to search through for later.
Late in the morning after shifting animals outside, making sure everyone was settled and comfortable for the day we would get supplies - more hay, more bags of monkey biscuits, more seeds.
After lunch we sat and watched gorillas.
In the winter it was lovely to be in the building (which was closed to the
public) and observe gorillas being gorillas - playing, sleeping, nest-building,
browsing. The layers of heavy hay bedding sent dust-motes floating up through
the shafts of light from the overhead sky-lights. The building smelled of
gorillas - a strong musky odor. Rumblings of contented adults searching for food
bits in the hay echoed down the row of cages, youngsters played Tag or King of
the hill or just wrestled with one another - issuing their deep-throated
chuckling laughter or letting loose with a a deep-bellied sigh, trying to catch their breath before starting on another round of play.
In the middle of the night I have been privileged
to observe a mother and her new-born in the quiet of the dimly-lit building. The
mother looks down at her clinging son, pulls his hand then his feet away from
her own body to carefully examine each finger, each toe - when the baby squeaks
in protest the mom vocalizes a soothing rumble and quickly gathers the infant
back against her body in a warm embrace
- as if in guilty apology, as if she simply cannot help herself, her
delight in her infant is just too obvious.
