Dogs, cats, even rats, can bond with human animals and come to care about us. But what about the wild ones?
While recently watching naturalist Joe Hutto, on Public Television’s Nature program, commune with wild mule deer, I thought of the time I sat alone on a volcanic island of the Galapagos as little lizards, Marine Iguanas, scurried linearly close by, and walloping sea lions stopped to lick my toes. It all seemed like a friendly greeting.
Joe Hutto spent a couple of years relating to a herd of mule deer on his land in the Wind River Region of Wyoming, and those deer came to trust him, even care for him. The head of the herd, he named Ragtag, cared so much she even licked his cheek in tenderness. When Ragtag died the whole herd visibly mourned. I was moved to tears when Joe Hutto found Ragtag’s orphaned faun, Molly, lying helplessly hungry without her mother. He nursed her to maturity and she became his constant friend.
Then I thought of a mother sea lion on the beach of another Galapagos Island who had just given birth to a still-born pup. That mother licked her baby for several minutes trying to restore life—to no avail. She then spent all her energy nudging that inert babe to the ocean’s edge and let it float out to the sea. No member of her herd came to offer condolences, even those nearby. None even came by out of curiosity, except a yearling offspring of that sad mother, who stood by and stared and stared.