You Can’t Choose Your Family by Stephanie Kroepfl

 

American Marten
Photo by Piet Knight

I come from a devout Catholic family, which means I have twenty-six first cousins on my mom’s side and almost as many on my dad’s. Given that, I consider myself a pretty good authority on how differently cousins can turn out. So when a friend in Columbine posted a picture of an American marten standing on his deck, I tried not to jump to conclusions about its disposition. The reason I say this is you may recall my previous articles about their weasel cousins, the otter and ermine. The highlights were that three otters tried to drown my neighbor’s Airedale terrier, which is how they kill their prey. And, ermine take over their latest meal’s burrow—and then decorates it with the unlucky animal’s fur and hide. Granted, they’re both adorable, but maybe not the kin you want to invite to Christmas dinner.

I’m happy to report that the American marten, also called a pine marten, doesn’t seem quite so . . . gruesome. They’re the only mustelid (family of 65 species of carnivorous mammals) that have semi-retractable claws. This enables them to lead an arboreal lifestyle in the trees as well as on the forest floor—they can even swim underwater. They often make their nests high in tree hollows or take over squirrel dens. They have fur on their soles to keep them warm, which creates a snowshoe effect that allows them to run atop the snow, and they burrow in the snow on chilly days.

As further proof of their versatility, they’re omnivores (they eat plants and meat). Their diet is based on voles (which only endears them to me more), snowshoe hares, small birds, fruits, conifer seeds, honey and even carrion if live prey is scarce. They’ll occasionally take a juvenile squirrel but they’re not as agile in the branches as adult squirrels and will usually leave them alone. And unlike the pine squirrel, pine martens help propagate forests since seeds pass through their gut intact. In fact, seeds have higher germination rates after, uhm, being processed compared to seeds that drop to the ground.

The American marten’s fur is shiny and luxuriant, resembling another of their many cousins, the sable. At the turn of the twentieth century, they were drastically depleted due to the fur trade. Their population has now stabilized and they’re not considered endangered, but deforestation due to us humans is always a threat. Like most states, it is legal in Colorado to capture them using live traps (only cage or box trap). Or, you can hunt them with a handheld bow, crossbow, handgun, rifle or shotgun – which given their cat-like size seems somewhat unproductive if you want to salvage any of their fur.

An article I read stated, “The marten is a rare animal that you’ll probably never see, save for paw prints in the snow.” Thanks to my quick acting friend for snapping this photo, which helps us all remember that you can’t judge someone’s character by what their family is like.

This article was originally published in The Boardwalk newspaper, Grand Lake, Colorado,

Destructive Little Cuties by Stephanie Kroepfl

Pine Squirrel
Photo provided by National Parks Service

When your Denver mechanic excitedly says, “You’re not going to believe what we found!” and you live in Grand Lake, you know this isn’t going to be good. Our vehicle just didn’t have its usual oomph when climbing Berthoud Pass, so naturally I assumed it was time to replace the filters and spark plugs. Yes, it needed a tune-up, but what my old Highlander didn’t need was a friggin’ huge nest that has been there for who-knows-how-long packed tightly into the air filter box (fortunately, animal parts and babies were not present). A huge mass of dried grasses, twine from my drooping Christmas lights and cloth fragments from who knows where had been suffocating my car’s engine.

After a bit of research on the types of rodents that build humungous nests, I’ve sleuthed that the culprit was most probably a pine squirrel, also known as a chickaree. Here’s a description of the pine squirrel: “Like the Chihuahua who thinks it’s a pit bull, this squirrel thinks it’s a mountain lion.” It’s one of the most vocal animals in the forest. It chatters, stomps its feet, and if you’ve ever had the audacity to walk past a tree on your property, it scolds from its lofty perch for intruding in its territory. They are literally the sentries of the forest, alerting other animals of imminent danger.

Some tree squirrels work symbiotically by burying seeds to propagate new forests. This one, unfortunately, isn’t a tree-hugger. Pine squirrels are seed predators who live almost entirely on pine cones. They either eat the seeds immediately or store the cones in their secret larders where the seeds remain moist and have little chance of germinating. They can reduce cones and seeds by fifty percent. When you’ve seen that huge pile of pine cone debris under a tree—called midden—it’s the pine squirrel’s doing. And if that’s not destructive enough, you may have noticed the tips of your lodgepoles’ branches scattered across the snow. Yep, it’s safe to blame it on that ridiculously cute pine squirrel. But to put my ravaged lodgepoles in perspective, there’s a far bigger tragedy attributed to squirrels. One chomped through a power line to the New York Stock Exchange and literally stopped America’s commerce—twice.

A few more nerdy facts. A squirrel nest high in a tree is called a drey; a nest in a tree hollow is a den. Squirrel teeth grow six inches per year; however, their teeth stay short from constant wear as they nibble and gnaw. And, their back feet can turn 180 degrees, which is how they climb head first down trees. I’m, admittedly, torn about how to feel toward the tiny gray squirrel that busily scurries up and down the lodgepole outside my window. How can something make me smile after I plunked down savings towards car maintenance when it could’ve gone toward a beach vacation?

Originally published in The Boardwalk newspaper, Grand Lake, Colorado.

Fox: The Cat-Dog by Stephanie Kroepfl

Gage, the fox-taunted Chesapeake Bay Retriever
Gage, the fox-taunted Chesapeake Bay Retriever

All winter long, a game has been played between our Chesapeake Bay retriever, Gage, and a red fox. The rules aren’t too complex  . . . for the fox. It boldly marks within feet of our cabin, prances across the snow as if walking on water, and then daintily perches itself on a nearby boulder. Gage’s turn. She snaps awake, nose twitching, barks her deep-chested warning and whines to be let out (hence, our crazy-high heating bill). With fur raised and huge attitude, Gage dashes out and races around the cabin, only to get distracted after smelling the fox’s challenge. She spends a ridiculously long time sniffing, vacuuming up every last scent molecule, and proudly struts through the door, confident that she’s protected her humans against certain death. Never once has Gage noticed the fox. Thirty feet away. Snickering. And then the fox lifts its leg again.

Since sneering at perceived lesser being’s ineptitude is more a cat’s behavior, I wondered if a fox is technically a cat or a dog. Here’s the answer: fox are part of the Canidae family that includes wolves, foxes, jackals, coyotes and domestic dogs. Canidae (Canines) are divided into two tribes: those related to wolves (Canini) and those related to foxes (Vulpini). So, scientifically speaking, they’re dogs. Except . . .

  • Foxes have vertical pupils that allow them to see in dim light, like cats, rather than rounded pupils like other canines. (If they had “puppy dog eyes,” I might be breaking the cardinal rule of not feeding wildlife).
  • Foxes walk on their toes, like cats. And—get this—many fox species haveretractable claws that allow them to climb. Some even sleep in trees. BTW, fox are nocturnal creatures, as are cats (dogs, on the other hand, sleep, like, always).
  • Similar to cats, foxes have sensitive whiskers and spines on their tongue. Foxes also have whiskers on their legs, which they use to help find their way. (Ladies, remember this explanation when you don’t feel like shaving).
  • Foxes are not pack animals, except when raising their young. They also prefer to sleep alone. (How many battles have you won for bed/couch space with your pup?)
  • Foxes hunt in a similar manner to cats by stalking and pouncing on their prey. They also play with their prey before eating it. (The dogs I know aren’t exactly patient when it comes to anything resembling food.)
  • No one would ever confuse a dog’s bark with a fox’s sharp, high-pitched shrieking/ screaming noise that’s on par with a cat in heat. It makes your skin crawl (as compared to how you feel when your neighbor’s dog is incessantly barking).
  • Baby foxes are called pups, kits or cubs. Male foxes are known as dogs, tods or reynards. Female foxes are vixens (not going there). A group offoxes is a skulk, leash or earth. (There may be a reason why they can’t agree on one name. Can we say “cat-dog”?)
  • Super nerdy factoid: fox harness the earth’s magnetic field to hunt. Other animals such as birds, sharks and turtles have this “magnetic sense,” but foxes are the first known to use it to catch prey.

Foxes are unique creatures unto themselves. Gage doesn’t have a chance.

Originally published in The Boardwalk newspaper, Grand Lake, Colorado.