Looking at Leopards

As I was (as usual) in the mood for a feel-good story about wild animals, an online search yielded some attractive results. One, in particular, looked enticing. Discovering that my trusty public library has the book in its collection, I reserved the title. When the book arrived, I began looking on the holds shelf for an adult-sized book. What was there, with my name on it, was a picture book with the same title. Since I have no aversion to reading material geared for any age group, I was happy to bring it home and check it out.

I enjoyed this picture book that’s not for little kids only so much I decided to share it with you. 

Suzy Eszterhas is a well-respected wildlife photographer, specializing in baby animals and photographing them as they grow up. Knowing that leopards are shy and elusive–-and mothers are even more so–-she is thrilled when an amazing opportunity arises. There is a female leopard dubbed The Camp Female living in Botswana’s Jao Reserve, where, being safe from hunters, she is relaxed around humans. When Suzi learns that the leopard has given birth, she quickly packs and flies to Botswana. Wanting to always remember this experience, the photographer decides to keep a diary.

Immediately upon her arrival, Kambango, Suzi’s guide, takes her directly to the leopard family’s well-hidden den. When the mother returns from a hunt, Suzi “meets” the cubs as they emerge from their hiding place. As the days pass, Suzi and Kambango, after the mother determines it’s safe for them to see her cubs, spend time with the leopards, and the photographer discovers that everything is an essential learning experience. Even play has a purpose. Pouncing, wrestling, and chasing Mom’s tail give them the strength and coordination necessary for hunting prey. While Suzi travels between Botswana and the U.S. to complete other assignments, she continues to chronicle the cubs’ growth, development, and growing abilities to live and hunt on their own.

Suzi Eszterhas’ diary gives readers a front-row seat in the drama of the lives of leopards in the African savannah. Her descriptions of their habits and her experiences are detailed, lively, informative, and spiced with entertaining and humorous tidbits. Not only does the author give us insights into the leopards’ lives and habits, she introduces us to some other critters that share the savannah. Her skill as a photographer shows: she captures scenes like a leopard’s sudden pouncing that are both unexpected and fleeting. Like the author/photographer, readers see the savannah through her camera lens and are enamored of the little furballs who grow up to become successful adults. Kids who like animals will delight in reading about the experiences of the author and the leopards she loves. 

Read It and Laugh

A very smart lady gave me a suggestion that should help me relax in the evening: instead of reading something heavy or even a sad part of an enjoyable novel, try some uplifting or humorous reading. Taking her advice, I remembered the name of a writer who specializes in this genre. Naturally, I checked out the public library app and discovered some of his books are available. Some days after a hold was placed, two arrived. Needless to say, even though it had been a busy and exhausting day, I made tracks to my trusty local branch (which regular readers of my blog know I talk about a lot) and returned home with the treasures. As soon as I opened one at random, I was treated to a humorous look at everyday events and phenomena.

Even though talking about books geared to a Jewish religious audience (and presuming familiarity with practices, precepts, and Biblical people and events) isn’t something that I usually do on my blog, there are exceptions. Mordechai Schmutter’s clever and often laugh-out-loud writings are one of them.

It’s a universal truth: kids can’t wait until they grow up. And adults encourage it: “Grow up.” “I’m trying!”

Yet youngsters don’t need motivation. Grownups can go anywhere they want, do whatever they like, don’t have to eat anything they dislike, and can stay up late. (Kids haven’t yet been reined in by the wishes, advice, and demands of their spouses, the parents who accompany them, their bosses, doctors…)

The book is divided into sections, such as Putting Your Kids First, Do It Yourself, Keeping on Top of Studies, Leaving Your Comfort Zone, Staying Organized, and other things that are expected of adults.

There is so much tongue-firmly-in-cheek food for thought here. From teaching kids to talk (and then expecting them to be quiet), to snow days, to the Spanish language (these essays are funny and do not poke fun at those for whom this is their primary language), to technology, there’s a bright, funny-because-it’s true side to everything. For example, here’s how to bake pastry.

1. In a noisy kitchen, preheat oven to 375.
2. Fahrenheit.
3. Wonder what that smell is.
4. Suddenly remember that you left some Tupperware in the oven…so the guests woudn’t see it.
5. Turn off the oven and scrape out the melted plastic.
6. Mix the first three ingredients, then the fith, and then the fourth.
7. Tell your children that it’s not time to lick the bowl yet.
8. Spend twenty minutes rummaging through the drawers, looking for the spatula.
9. In a separate bowl that somehow still fits your stand mixer, mix the sixth and eighth ingredients. and then fold it into the first bowl.
10. Using a third bowl that you borrowed from a neighbor, mix the seventh ingredient with itself and fold that in as well. Or just say, “Forget it,” and dump everything into one bowl in the first place. Ingredients are ingredients. we believe.
11. Weaving around the multiple stepstools that your kids set up to watch you, put the mixture in the fridge and allow it to chill at 38 degrees.
12. Tell your children it’s not time to lick the bowl yet.
13. Whenever you remember (allow 6-8 days), take mixture out of the fridge and say, “How long has this been here…? Oh, that’s right.”
14. With floured hands, on a floured surface, while standing on a floured floor, and just generally surrounded by mounds and mounds of flour, roll out mixture until it is 1/4-inch thick.
15. Using a relatively clean drinking glass or a garbage can lid, cut dough into neat circles.
16. [Put a small amount of fruit filling or ground beef or chicken in the center of each and fold over into a triangle shape. Pinch edges closed.]
17. Using an oven mitt…place pastries in the oven.
18. On a cookie sheet, genius.
19. They are ready when the smoke alarm goes off (at least 20-25 minutes, assuming you remembered to turn the oven back on.)

Once I stop chuckling over some of the choicest tidbits, I’ll look forward to delving into the other Mordechai Schmutter books beckoning from their perches. On the other hand, why wait?

A Howling Good Story

Among the books begging me to write about them is a title I referred to in an earlier post: An Otterly Marvelous Tale. So, without further ado, here is my review of a book that isn’t only for kids.

“I begin in darkness, and my nose tells me everything I know.” With this introduction, a wolf pup named Swift describes his siblings: his brothers Sharp, bigger and aggressive, and Warm, the only one smaller than Swift, and his sisters Pounce, who delights in wrestling, and Wag, who speaks with her tail. Swift longs to be able to see the world outside their den. When the pups’ mother invites them out to meet the rest of the pack, he is ecstatic.

As Swift and his siblings grow, they learn many things: which animals are and are not prey; how to work together for a successful hunt; and the importance of marking their territory to keep invaders out. Their existence is ideal (except for Sharp’s swagger and prowess at hunting). When the young wolves are yearlings, their mother returns to the den and eventually emerges with a new litter.

However, their idyllic existence comes to a sudden end. A pack of rival wolves. so numerous they could overrun Swift’s pack, approach. As their mother leads the pups away, the defenders manage to drive off some of the enemy, but more keep coming. Swift, feigning weakness, draws a wolf away, relying on his knowledge of his home territory. He squirms through the tangled branches of fallen trees and runs over a log before leaping onto a meadow. As the other wolf follows, the log breaks, sending him into the sharp edges of the branches.

However, Swift’s victory is short-lived. As he races back to draw another invader away, he hears his father’s death song. “Carry on. Carry on. Carry on…” The frightened young wolf runs through the night, stopping in the morning to drink from a pond. A despondent Swift waits, but no one comes. At nightfall, he hears the howls of the enemy wolves, followed by Sharp’s lower howl. He understands that if Sharp is reduced to being their following wolf, there is no hope for the rest of his pack.

Driven by hunger, Swift comes across a herd of elk. He gives chase, only to see his target stop and turn around. The elk kicks him in the stomach, leaving him wounded and weak. Unable to move, the young wolf decides he is Swift no longer. He subsists on grass, insects, and a snake until he heals enough to look for water. Things look up when he finds a stream. Not only is it a source of water, it attracts other animals who come to drink, and Swift is able to kill a raccoon. Even better, the wolf is visited by a raven. Remembering that these birds would lead his father to prey in return for a share, Swift offers the raven some of his kill. Instead of taking it, the bird indicates she wants him to follow her.

This is the beginning of a symbiotic relationship. The raven leads the young wolf to water and prey. He opens the animal (which she cannot do, lacking teeth and claws). As the pair travels, they encounter a “black river” with noisemakers travelling along it. The wolf crosses, but realizes it is dangerous to do so and determines to never cross one again. Even though he craves companionship, Swift warns away a female wolf who appears on the other side. He follows the raven away from the black river, knowing that she is the only pack he has now.

Roseanne Parry has performed an incredible feat. She gives us a wolf’s-eye-view of Swift’s world. And the young wolf is a capable narrator. His experiences, feelings, aspirations, and personality come through his narrative. With simple statements, he expresses his emotions and describes what he sees and does: When his mother comes to the den, he tells us, “I can smell her sweet-wild, milk-wind smell. ‘Come,’ she says. I am all wag. ‘Outside?'” “I run. Run to feel the wind in my fur and the pound of my feet on the sweet grass and soft needles of my home ground.” “I am on my own, and come nightfall even the moon is gone.” “The skin over my belly goes slack, but I do not feel hunger. I only feel empty.”

Monica Armino’s detailed black-and-white illustrations capture the mood of and are a perfect backdrop for the events of the story. The fact that the novel is based on a true story adds to the air of reality. A Wolf Called Wander is ideal for any middle-to-upper- grade reader who loves animal stories. Even if someone is not into tales about wildlife, he or she might very well be long before finishing the story.

An Otterly Marvelous Tale

People who know me (and that includes readers of my humble blog) know that I’m an animal lover. No vacation or day trip is complete without a visit to a zoo, animal sanctuary, beach, or any other place our furry, feathered, or scaly friends call home. And, since I’m a bibliophile, any book–fiction or nonfiction, kiddie lit or adult fare–fea

Empowering Books

On a flight this past winter, I scrolled down the generous list of available movies. One, in particular, jumped out at me: the screen adaptation of an unforgettable upper-elementary level novel I obtained for my school library and read—and was enthralled by—more than a decade ago. I naturally watched the wonderful movie, then decided to reread the written work to refresh my memory and compare the two.

Upon my return home, I made tracks to the nearest public library branch and checked out the novel. (I also borrowed the DVD, thinking some of my grandchildren might enjoy it.)

And, since it is too difficult to leave a library without seeing what else will catch my interest, I continued browsing the juvenile fiction shelves–and made a delightful discovery. An upper-elementary novel as memorable as the one that brought me to the library has a sequel. Without further ado, here are my impressions of two blockbuster stories that aren’t for kids only.

Auggie Pullman is an ordinary ten-year-old. He likes things many kids do: riding his bike, computer games, Star Wars, and more. And like a lot of youngsters, Auggie dreams of being an astronaut one day. Yet there is one thing that sets him apart from most people. Due to a genetic abnormality, Auggie’s face is far from normal. His features aren’t where they usually are, and he’s endured many surgeries to enable him to see, hear, and eat, and to repair his face as much as possible. Because of the extraordinary amount of time spent in hospitals and recuperating–and his unsettling appearance–Auggie’s mother has homeschooled him.

Yet that is about to change. Feeling that she can no longer teach him at home, his mother believes that the first year of middle school, because many children are new, is the ideal time for Auggie to begin regular school. Fortunately, the Pullmans are financially able to choose Beecher Prep, a private school whose principal accepts the bright youngster. So, the parents set aside their anxiety and encourage their reluctant son to give it a try, and an apprehensive Auggie Pullman begins his school career.

We hear Auggie’s story through first-person accounts of our hero, his teenage sister Via, classmate and new friend Jack Will, and others. Through their alternating stories, the people in Auggie’s world speak in their own voices and describe the same events and experiences from their own vantage points. Each speaker does more than tell the tale; readers are taken into his or her mind and heart and discover how their lives are intertwined. As the young hero experiences the frustrations, successes, insensitivity of classmates (who feel they will get the Plague if they so much as touch him), and encouragement of some special teachers, we hurt and rejoice along with him.

After readers reluctantly turn the last page of Auggie’s story, they don’t have to say goodbye. Auggie & Me: Three Wonder Stories gives us a special glimpse into his world through the eyes of three classmates. 365 Days of Wonder: Mr. Browne’s Precepts details the inspiring teacher’s insightful quotes that he shares with his students. And younger readers can experience Auggie’s world in We’re All Wonders, a marvelous picture book telling his story and promoting kindness and empathy. P.J. Palacio performs the extraordinary feat of telling Auggie’s story (or, more accurately, allowing her characters to tell it) for an audience ranging from preschoolers to adults. And, of course, there’s the blockbuster movie that piqued my interest in revisiting Auggie Pullman and his world.

One of my first impressions, which I remember to this day, upon reading Out of My Mind was the way the author’s profession colored her story. Sharon M. Draper brought her teaching experience into play from the very beginning of the novel. It takes a tremendous amount of skill to tell the story of a girl like Melody in her own voice. For the preteen has cerebral palsy, a disorder that has left her with little use of her body and unable to speak.

Confined to a wheelchair and a special education class run by a teacher who does not challenge her students’ minds (and occupies them with music tapes geared toward young children), Melody possesses a keen intelligence that is recognized by very few people. It is only when her mother, aware of her daughter’s intellectual prowess, visits the class and demands that Melody be mainstreamed that the girl’s fortunes begin to change. Upon discovering, during a session with her aide, a computer that can be programmed to “speak” for her, Melody acquires such a device–and her gift becomes obvious to educators and classmates alike.

However, even though the machine gives Melody the power of speech, her difficulties are not completely resolved. Misunderstandings about the girl’s abilities and a failure see her as a human being with desires and feelings like anyone else result in a devastating event with far-reaching consequences. We rejoice, feel indignation, and applaud as Melody’s story unfolds. Readers will never again see people with physical and mental challenges in the same light. (News bulletin: filming is scheduled to be underway this spring for a movie adaptation of Out of My Mind!)

As Melody’s story continues in Out of My Heart, a unique opportunity to attend summer camp (one geared for kids with special needs) introduces the almost-teenager to experiences she once thought impossible for someone like her. Melody makes friends (for the first time in her life) and realizes that she has talents and abilities beyond anything she could have imagined. Readers discover along with our heroine that, as she approaches her teen years–achieving goals for the first time and encountering people who understand the challenges she faces–there is, under the surface, a talented budding young woman with so much to offer the world–and who just wants to have fun.

A Whale of a Tale

This book is an example of why I loved being a school librarian. Any opportunity to share such gems with young readers (and their teachers and parents) made my day.

Twelve-year-old Iris is smart, possesses a healthy curiosity about the world around her, has a talent for making anything electronic from old radios to computers work, and is Deaf. Since she is the only such student in her school, relying on a sign language interpreter, people often act like she lacks intelligence—making Iris feel like no one is listening to her. There is one exception: Sofia Alamilla, who teaches science, the sixth grader’s favorite subject.

It is in Ms. Alamilla’s class that Iris’ world begins to change. The teacher is showing a video about an unusual whale called Blue 55. Singing at a frequency and in a pattern unlike that of other whales—meaning others cannot hear or understand him—he lives alone rather than in a pod. Iris understands Blue 55’s plight: singing in a language nobody else knows, continuing to call with no one to hear him.

Learning about the whale plants a seed in Iris’ mind. What if someone else sang like Blue 55? Enlisting the assistance of a helpful music teacher and providing downloaded sheet music of the whale’s singing patterns, Iris records a song played by members of the school band that would be familiar to Blue 55. Yet there is a problem: the whale is thousands of miles away. How can Iris get close enough to play her song for Blue 55?

To say that Lynne Kelley’s second novel is a masterpiece is an understatement.  The author’s work as a sign language interpreter combined with a gift of language makes Iris’ story a compelling one.  The first-person narrative allows readers to see the world through the heroine’s eyes. Facts about sign language and Deaf culture are woven seamlessly into the narrative, providing a sense of realism without detracting from Iris’ story.

The author paints such a vivid picture that one relates to the protagonist’s frustration and what gives her life meaning, perceives the sights and sensations she encounters, and feels like those in Iris’ world are people we know. The result is an attention-grabbing, sensitive, and appropriately humorous tale about a determined girl’s efforts to ease the loneliness of a creature with whom she feels an affinity. Like Kathi Appelt’s phenomenal Once Upon a Camel (review coming up), The One and Only Ivan by Katherine Applegate, Fish in A Tree by Lynda Mullaly Hunt, and Out of My Mind by Sharon M. Draper, this gem will keep readers riveted—and cheering for the heroes of the story—from the first page to the wonderful conclusion. Song for a Whale shows us that, like Iris, each of us has our own song—if only people will stop to listen.  

A Journey of Discovery

When browsing my local public library’s virtual shelves for some inspiring reading, I saw this title. Intrigued, I placed a hold (the only way to choose a title prior to the library system’s full opening) and awaited its arrival. When the volume came, I beat a path to the closest branch library’s door and returned home with this treasure.

And a treasure it is. Here is my humble (and, as usual, wordy) review of this delightful book.

This is the tale of a journey, one that begins during author Judy Gruen’s childhood. The young girl is blessed with loving parents, and Judy’s grandparents are a big part of her life. It doesn’t take her long to discover that the two sets could not be more different. Cece and Papa Rosenfeld, her paternal grandparents, are modern atheists and proud of it. Papa is a successful businessman and Cece a physician (at a time when female doctors were a rare breed) in upscale West Los Angeles. In stark contrast, Nana and Papa Cohen are faithful to Jewish tradition. During their frequent visits, Papa devotes his time to religious activities—and Nana shows herself to be a classic balabusta (a time-honored wife) who combines homemaking with working to supplement her husband’s limited income.

However, traditional Sabbath night meals and synagogue attendance are the extent of the Rosenfeld family’s observance. As a teenager, Judy ponders the possibility of living in both of her grandparents’ worlds: is it doable to be true to Jewish tradition and live an intellectual and pleasurable life? Growing up in the turbulent 60s and 70s, and experiencing a devastating family tragedy, Judy has questions about G-d and His existence (and she believes He does, because such a complicated world must have a designer), and no one she feels she can ask them.

It is an adult Judy, after graduating from college with a degree in journalism and working in a profession she loves, who embarks on the next stage of her journey. It all begins when, still heartbroken after the end of a romance, she receives a phone call from a young man named Jeff. Newly relocated to Los Angeles, he got her name and number from a mutual friend. When they meet, she discovers that her new acquaintance is moving toward more religious observance. Judy finds this unsettling: how can she believe there is truth in a religion she equates with outdated, close-minded, sexist attitudes? However, Judy and Jeff, comfortable in each other’s company, continue to meet, even as she prepares to attend graduate school in Chicago.

Before departing for Chicago, Judy reaches the next stage of her journey. She finally agrees to accompany Jeff to a class given by the Orthodox Rabbi Lapin. The charismatic teacher, speaking to a group of people with backgrounds similar to hers and Jeff’s, delves into the deeper meaning of the subject with a dedication reminiscent of a good journalist. Intrigued, Judy agrees to attend future classes, where she is always ready to challenge Rabbi Lapin’s statements even as she finds meaning in his insights.

Author Judy Gruen tells the story of her journey from worldly youngster to devoted (yet still worldly) member of the religious fold with the skill of a talented writer. Her lively narrative is spiced with humor, descriptions that will resonate with contemporary readers (she refers to her nuptials as My Big Fat Jewish Wedding), and honest accounts of her internal and external struggles to fit into her new roles as a wife, mother, professional, and observant Jew. Judy’s openness will resonate with readers from many backgrounds: religious, those searching for meaning and purpose in their lives, non-Jews, and anyone who enjoys an uplifting, well-written story of self-discovery. Anyone who begins reading this memoir will be inspired by the author’s journey and rejoice as the tale comes full circle.  

The Little Seal That Could

I’m continuing my literary love for all the marvelous animals who populate the Creator’s magnificent world.

Author Terrie M. Williams takes readers on a journey of discovery. She introduces us to a creature not familiar to many: the Hawaiian monk seal.

The story opens on a stormy spring evening off the coast of Molokai in the Hawaiian Islands. Six paddlers aboard a canoe have lost their way in a downpour. As the danger grows with the triple threat of growing darkness, hypothermia, and tiger sharks swimming below, a more benign creature spots them. One paddler recognizes the visitor as KP2, a ten-month-old Hawaiian monk seal who took up residence a few weeks before. The human-loving youngster is looking for playmates but responds when the paddlers tell him to “go home.” KP2, sensing something is different, swims away and the canoers follow. Within twenty minutes, humans and seal enter the calm waters of a harbor. KP2 swims off and climbs onto a docked boat to await morning and the return of children with whom to play.

The author turns her attention to her own younger years. As a child, she wanted to grow up to be a dog. Even though this did not happen, the little girl discovered she could understand animal “language” and predict their next moves. As she grew, Terrie’s affinity for animals developed into a career of wildlife research in all corners of the world. Yet, there was only one creature who could “read” her in return.

On May 1, 2008, a Hawaiian monk seal dubbed KP2 (Kauai Pup 2) was born. Almost immediately, the pup found himself under attack by a male who saw him as an obstacle to mating with his mother. Unlike most mothers of her species, she did nothing to protect her newborn—and even attacked the baby herself. Fortunately for the pup, members of the Kauai Monk Seal Team were watching. Since his species was endangered, the observers decided to rescue him.

In faraway Antarctica, Terrie is one of eight researchers working with Weddell seals. While there, she receives an enticing email: would she like to care for KP2 in her California lab? Knowing the danger of extinction monk seals face, she consults with Beau Richter, one of her trainers working with her in Antarctica, and agrees. Terrie travels to Hawaii to meet the young seal.

Despite the locals who protest the removal of “their” seal, Terrie arranges for his transportation to San Diego aboard a Navy plane. Awaiting his arrival are Terrie, Beau, and fellow trainer Traci Kendall. The trio loads KP2 onto a rental truck and they begin the nighttime trek to Santa Cruz in northern California. Upon their 3:00 a.m. arrival, excited student volunteers welcome the young seal and ask his name. Terrie responds with the moniker given him by Hawaiians when he left: Ho’ailona, a special seal with a special purpose and a sign from the ocean. Now she must fend off curiosity seekers and reporters who have somehow learned that a celebrity seal is hidden at the lab. Knowing that he is vulnerable to disease caused by microorganisms different from those in Hawaii, and wanting him to remain healthy and able to “meet” the other lab animals, Terrie refuses permission.

However, even when KP2 is found to be healthy, everything is not rosy. The youngster refuses to eat until ingenious Traci, understanding his need for human contact, tricks him into accepting the fish he usually rejects. Training KP2 to follow commands that will enable Terrie and others to examine and work with him is difficult: he, like other monk seals, is stubborn, and his poor eyesight means he must employ other means to maneuver around his world. Just when the team is making monumental discoveries that could save KP2’s species, a combination of events conspire to throw a wrench into their progress.

Author Terrie M. Williams’ affinity for and empathy with all the critters inhabiting our planet spring forth on every page. This quality and a gift for storytelling combine to bring the tale of KP2 to life. All players in the young monk seal’s drama have a voice: from the Hawaiians who want to keep Ho’ailona home, to the government representatives who must follow (and occasionally bend) the rules, to the dedicated and clever animal care experts so instrumental to KP2’s well-being, to members of the public with a wholesome concern for all creatures and a healthy, unpolluted future for our planet.

Williams’ recognition that the scientist does not have the final say in determining the course of study, but that his or her subjects often take the lead and provide surprising and enlightening insights into their behavior and abilities, is refreshing. She interjects a healthy bit of humor into the adventures and day-to-day realities of those whose lives and careers are dedicated to the survival of KP2 and his fellow monk seals. Readers from teens to senior citizens will be inspired by the little seal that could—and those who have given him a voice—and cheer for him every step of the way.

 

Beavermania

Since I, like so many, find myself spending a lot of time at home, there is a bright spot: more time to read and share books with any audience who is willing to listen to or read my musings. And since I have a sense of wonder about our world and its many inhabitants, volumes featuring any critter naturally catch my attention. So please join me in discovering an animal many don’t think much about but is worthy of our attention.

This is the story of humans’ relationship with members of the Castor family: rodents who, according to author Ben Goldfarb, are some of our “closest ecological and technological kin.” We are both creative tool users who choose to live near water (especially agriculturally productive valley floors made by rivers), have a penchant for designing elaborate structures, and are compelled to reorganize our surroundings to better provide shelter and food rather than be satisfied with the status quo.

However, these striking similarities do not necessarily endear us to beavers. These misunderstood rodents were viewed by newcomers to North America merely as a source of fur perfect for wearing apparel, especially hats. In fact, the fur trade—and the wealth it brought and territorial conflicts it generated—played a role in early American history from the Pilgrims to the Lewis and Clark expedition. As the western United States and Canada became denuded of beavers by the middle of the 19^th century, their former habitats became towns, farms, and industrial sites.  Castors were not missed: the critters were viewed as pests whose dams flooded farms and ranches and destroyed desirable trees and other vegetation.

Things began looking up for North America’s largest rodents as the 19^th century gave way to the 20^th. Between 1872 and 1905, national parks, refuges, and forests were created and wildlife-protective legislation was passed. The powers that be discovered the vital role that the humble beaver plays: as a keystone species responsible for a healthy ecosystem that supports a variety of creatures up and down the food chain. For well-watered areas created by dams and their vegetation provide homes and sustenance for ducks, moose, elk, and deer—and the wolves and mountain lions relying on them for food. (The big predators return the favor, as controlling the numbers of their prey makes more room for beavers.)

As a result, in the first two decades of the new century, beavers were reintroduced to a number of states, where they thrived and their numbers mushroomed. However, their return was not always welcome. Beaver dams, even as they increased all-important water levels and replenished underground aquifers as their ponds’ contents seeped into the soil, also caused roads and crops to be flooded.

Enter Mike Callahan and Skip Lisle, the geniuses behind Beaver Deceivers: flow devices allowing ponds to partially drain into creeks, with pipes enclosed by a fence so the animals cannot plug them. At a yearly price tag that is a drop in the bucket compared to the cost of road restoration, together with the miniscule outlay for beaver-created wetlands ($14 an acre as opposed to an average of $38,725 per acre for wetland restoration), these deceptively simple devices are a win-win situation for landowners and Castors alike.

With a major hurdle out of the way, landowners whose property suffered damage at the hands of beavers began to increasingly call on not trappers but removal and relocation specialists such as Kent Woodruff and Washington State’s Methow Beaver Project. Their techniques are being adopted throughout the nation with extraordinary results. In Woodruff’s words, “We’re not smart enough to know what a fully functional ecosystem looks like. But beavers are.”

Author Ben Goldfarb’s gift of language turns a historical record of the relationship between beavers, their fellow creatures, and humans into a mesmerizing read. His fascination for his subject fills every page.  Chapter titles like “Dislodged” and “California Streaming” add spice to this delectable account. An animal that takes a back seat to wolves, cougars, deer, dolphins, and many more charismatic players on the world environmental stage comes into its own under the author’s capable pen.

Yet Goldfarb does not expect his readers to take his word for it. He deftly describes up close and personal encounters with Castor advocates and habitats on both sides of the Atlantic and, more importantly, with beavers themselves. With healthy doses of humor, the author presents his case—and that of beaver aficionados everywhere—in a manner that will resonate with readers on both sides of the debate.

Goldfarb’s eye-opening, informative account is more than an attention-grabbing story. He has obviously done his homework; copious footnotes provide sources for historical and contemporary quotations, research, and events, and a detailed index provides quick access to the subject matter.

As a bonus, several pages of photographs demonstrate the efforts by human and animal participants in the cause of beaver restoration. (There is a small detraction in this book: the author makes occasional use of strong language that may be off-putting to some readers.)  All in all, Eager is a fitting tribute that will make readers see beavers in a whole new light.

Turkey Tale

Last week, National Geographic published a timely article; timely, because of the date—close to Thanksgiving—and the topic—turkeys. Once, wild gobblers were plentiful throughout this country. However, by the Civil War, their numbers were decimated because of excessive hunting and loss of forest habitat.

This drastic decline led a New Hampshire Fish and Wildlife biologist to reintroduce 25 birds in 1975. Expecting at most a few thousand turkeys to descend from them, he has watched their numbers to explode to 40,000. With neighboring states boasting similar population increases, wild turkey introduction has been successful beyond anyone’s wildest expectations.

The birds themselves are largely to be thanked for the population explosion: they can live almost anywhere and thrive near human habitations. People who keep feeders well stocked with birdseed for their hoped-for avian visitors (of whom turkeys are almost certainly not on the expected guest list) provide a ready source of nourishment. Add to these factors a dearth of traditional predators like wolves and cougars, and the stage is set for one of the most fruitful wildlife reintroduction events in the nation’s history.

Turkey Crossing Guard

Actually, the unfortunate disappearance of wolves and cougars from their ancestral habitats brings to mind two other wildly successful reintroductions. Naturally, I learned of them through books chronicling the (largely man-made) decline of these magnificent apex predators and the often hindered efforts to restore them to their proper place.

Back in the late 1890s, Yellowstone National Park’s powers that be believed predators would decimate elk and bighorn sheep—animals which brought visitors in droves. These officials saw one solution: entirely eliminate wolves, a goal which was achieved by the mid-1920s. However, the plan backfired, as the population boom in prey animals wreaked havoc on their populations as well as those of other Yellowstone critters. To remedy this situation, wildlife officials—after hearing from proponents and opponents of the plan—okayed the release of 32 Canadian wolves in 1995 and 1996.

By 2009, under the watchful eyes of biologists, park rangers, amateur wolf watchers, and a filmmaker, 1700 wolves belonging to numerous packs called the northern Rocky Mountains home. Now the challenges became ensuring that the big canines remain protected and convincing elk hunters that wolves are not responsible for the reduction in numbers of their quarry.

Nate Blakeslee’s story of the return of wolves to Yellowstone is as captivating as a great novel. The author’s admiration for these smart, devoted, social creatures is obvious; yet it does not prevent him from open-mindedly presenting all sides of the restoration question. Blakeslee has a gift of combining a historian’s detachment with an advocate’s passion about the subject. Readers interested in environmental issues, social concerns, wildlife, and history will want to add this account to their shelves. It’s vital reading for anyone preparing for or following a career in biology, wildlife management, the national park system, or social concerns. Even people who have not given wolves much thought might find themselves aficionados by the time they finish American Wolf.

Now it’s the big cat’s turn. In a book scheduled for publication in January, 2020, Craig Pittman introduces us to the puma, aka cougar, mountain lion, tiger, catamount, and panther. Like all apex predators, these cats are necessary for a viable ecosystem. And like wolves, puma subspecies once thrived in varied regions of the U.S. yet fell victim to people’s fears for their safety and their livestock.

Today, cats live in only one state east of the Mississippi: Florida, where they are known as panthers. Even there, their survival has been endangered by fear, loss of habitat due to development, highway expansion, corporate greed, and–amazingly–government  wildlife officials bowing to lobbyists and undermining their staffs’ recommendations for panther protection. By the time they began to actively improve the cat’s lot in the 1960s, biologists and veterinarians faced the grim possibility that there were no panthers left outside of the Everglades. It has taken a diversified cast of characters, some with their own agendas yet united by one goal, to stand up to all opposition and ensure a future for Florida’s state animal.

Craig Pittman, a not-so-secret admirer of panthers, uses his journalistic talents to tell their story with a blend of humor, passion, irony, and objectivity. He brings the hopes, plans, and schemes of heroes and villains alike to life. Readers feel the dreams, exhilaration, outrage, and frustrations of those who have devoted their careers and lives to ensuring that America’s cat overcomes its challenges and be a source of enjoyment and admiration for generations to come.

During and after reading these heartwarming tales, I began to think about my affinity for creatures of all kinds. What makes a woman entering—and now in—her golden years feel for the plight and express concern for the future of wildlife? True, there have been remarkable women like Marjory Stoneman Douglas (the author of Everglades: River of Grass) who became a panther advocate in her late 70s and spent the next thirty years actively working to preserve the environment. Yet I have not extensively researched or written anything on this topic or worked in a professional or even amateur capacity to protect our planet and its inhabitants.

The answer has to be my religious tradition. Judaism places a premium on animal protection; teachings are full of rules governing treatment of our feathery and furry friends and the avoidance of physical and emotional cruelty. In fact, the guidelines all people are expected to live by (the seven Noahide laws) stress the importance of this idea. And the reward is great for one who sends away a mother bird so she will not suffer the anguish of seeing a person take her young. In addition, we are enjoined to emulate the positive characteristics of various creatures (the strength of a lion, for one) in service of our Creator. There are so many more examples of the proper and requisite attitude we must have towards the animals with which we share this world; to enumerate them all would fill volumes. Yet it can be summed up in a nutshell: Judaism is a compassionate way of life whose emphasis on kindness extends to all the inhabitants of planet Earth, animal and human alike.