Priscilla the porcupine

a prickly situation…

One of the little critters I have had the pleasure of raising to be released to the wild was a porcupette, or baby porcupine. Priscilla, as I refer to her in my book Pond Memories, may be considered by some to be the ‘dumb’ cousin of the beaver, but I did not find this to be so.
She had such a sense of fun an could find entertainment from an empty flower pot to a dangling vine. And she vocalized her pleasure (and displeasure) with hoots and doots.
I find it so sad and such a waste when I hear of those who kill these little ones on sight in case their dog gets quilled. They prefer this step rather than taking care and control of their dog. Or they kill them for debarking their trees when that too can be prevented.
Porcupines seldom bear more than one young, as twins are rare, and often because populations are so low and spread out, may go years without breeding.
Their main predator, next to man, is the fisher, a mustelid that has learned to flip and kill without getting quilled.
When I am walking in the jack pine forest and smell that unique horsey/eucalyptus scent (a smell that drives my dogs crazy excited) I look up to find my prickly little friend.

Cameron

My book, Pond Memories, tells the story of Cameron, a caesarian sectioned beaver kit rescued by the trapper who trapped his mother. The three kits were removed from their mom in less than ideal conditions, and I had my doubt’s they would survive. Cammy’s story is one of survival that i was privileged enough to part of.

just another day in paradise…

Good start to a Sunday. The exceptionally tiny fawn that dispeared last week when the wolves came through the property showed up this morning, thin but unhurt. The wolves must have chased it a long distance down the road and it just made it back today. The doe spent a lot of time licking it and let it feed at the bird feeder chasing the other deer away.

it’s snow fun…

This winter with it’s six weeks of brutal cold and wind chill has been tough on the forest creatures. I watched a raven hammering away at a frozen piece of road kill obviously to no avail. It decided to fly up and drop it on the highway, presumably to crack the meat enough to feed. When that didn’t work, he climbed on top and started to brood it with his body heat. Smart bird.