For this piece, I
have decided to include several different incidents that happened over the
course of several years. While the following incidents may not be worthy of
inclusion on Untamed and Uncut, they were
certainly of great importance to me, especially during the moments at which
they occurred! Part of this article will be dedicated to the explanation of a
point which I have always felt to be extremely important from the perspective
of a wildlife educator and that is the simple fact that animal attacks or
altercations with people never happen out of context. By this I mean that under
any circumstance in which an individual finds themselves being hurt, injured,
or killed by any type of animal, there are or were a specific set of
circumstances in place that made it possible and likely to happen. While
sometimes these circumstances are nearly unavoidable, they are always set in
place by our actions. It must be understood that animals have one specific life
goal, and it's not to win the lottery, compete in the Olympics, or appear on
reality TV. Animals are all specifically and specially designed to survive and
pass their genes on to the next generation of their species. Altercations with
human beings are, for the most part, not part of their plan for fulfilling that
goal. These instances only occur when we violate the rules for other specie’s
completion of this purpose, such as the defensive bite of the copperhead I
recounted in the last episode, or when the incidents actually serve as the
completion of this purpose, such as the many crocodile attacks that occur every
year in Africa. The former case demonstrated an animal defending itself from
what it perceived to be a predator, whereas the latter demonstrates an animal
executing its predatory instincts upon what it considered as just another prey
animal. In each circumstance, a mistake was made on the human end that allowed
the attack to occur. It is therefore important to remember that animals are
never at “fault” for an attack on humans. The word “fault”, by its very
definition, implies an agreed upon code of morality, one that animals are
simply not subject to. There is no right or wrong within the animal kingdom,
simply survival and the alternative. All animal behaviors are direct results of
this dynamic. What follows are specific examples of how I managed, at one time
or another, to upset the balance and pay the price in spades!
Polly Wants A Cracker… Or A Finger!
Standing outside
on my front porch, I could see the usual line of cars parked at the end of my
long gravel driveway, each waiting as the minutes on their clocks ticked closer
towards nine-thirty. Today was BLAST day, the bi-weekly class for my family’s
private run science co-op. The focus of the semester was zoology and today was
bird day. One by one, each car pulled through the circular driveway, dropping
off our students. With the living room being fully converted into a classroom,
everyone had a seat on the floor, anticipating the morning assembly that is
taught by yours truly. With a childish grin on my face, I eagerly anticipated
the day’s events. We had arranged for the parent of one of our students to
bring two tropical birds for a demonstration that would serve as a fantastic
visual as I introduced the kids to the amazing avian class. Mentally reminding
myself not to rush through the topic introduction, I laid the groundwork for
the day’s classes. “Tell her to bring them in now” I said looking to my sister
and co-teacher, motioning towards the door with my chin. “Alright guys, just
like the last two weeks, we have a live animal for you to see up close. Raise
our hand if you can remember our rules we follow when we have an animal in
class”. Hands shot up as each and every child immediately adjusted themselves
to the “crisscrossed applesauce, hands in your lap” position and silenced
themselves, already knowing what our animal handling rules are. Choosing the
most still and quiet students to answer my questions, as I always do, I
prepared them for our special guests.
You see, birds
always present a unique challenge when handling them in front of a crowd. They
don’t have what I like to refer to as the “compromised sense” as some animals
do. By this I mean that while some animals see poorly and make up for it with excellent
olfactory and hearing senses, or have a poor sense ( and in some cases, no
sense) of hearing but make up for it with a strong olfactory senses and
excellent sight, the simple fact is that birds excel at all three. While it is
true that a bird’s olfactory system is the least developed of its sensory
perceptions, to suggest that this implies a week sense of smell would be
similar to concluding that Shakespeare’s early works sucked because they were
less developed than Hamlet. The truth is that most birds have a better sense of
smell than humans, as well as a phenomenal sense of hearing and perhaps the
very best vision in the animal kingdom. In the case of animal handling within a
large crowd, the combination of these three highly tuned senses triples the
chance of some type of stimulus from the surrounding environment -most likely
from a spectator- causing the bird to become nervous, irritable, or erratic in
behavior. And while both reptiles and mammals may certainly experience similar
discomfort while being handled, to this day I have never had either of the two
fly away from me as a result. If that happens, you will be the first to know
about it. Another interesting aspect of handling birds is the manner by which
they are handled. With reptiles and mammals, you are able, in most circumstances,
to secure the animal with both hands to ensure they remain safe. This also
plays a pivotal role in both removing them from their carriers at the beginning
of the handling session and placing them back inside their carriers when
finished. If an alligator, for example, becomes upset or aggravated, it will
twist and turn in your hands until given the chance to calm down or until it is
placed back in the carrier. However, because you have a safe and firm cast mold
–like grip on him with both hands, there is little trouble it can actually give
you while doing this, assuming he is smaller than some of the dinosaurs I’ve
been foolish enough to hold from time to time. The same can be said of lizards,
turtles and tortoises, chinchillas, rabbits, tenrecs, and most other handling
animals without feathers and beaks. If, however, an intelligent bird has cause
to be upset, frightened, or feels just plain stubborn on that given day, then
my friend, you are in for a terrible surprise! Because birds must be perched on
your arm, wrist, or hand, and are therefore free to move around on top of it,
placing one where it wishes not to be is a very difficult task indeed. In
addition to making you look like an idiot in front of your students, peers, or
supervisor, it has a dampening effect on the program being taught and does
little to booster the “wildlife whisperer” image that you no doubt have of
yourself. And sometimes they bite… really hard.
Needless to say, when the birds were brought
in, my excitement was well tempered, though you wouldn’t know it by looking at
me, with a healthy dose of apprehension and caution. With both animal carriers
now placed on the table behind me, our guest teacher introduced the birds. The
first was a beautiful blue and gold macaw, which is perhaps the most common
among the large, captive owned macaws. And Lord was he huge! Perched atop his
owner’s forearm, he must have easily beaten three feet in length, including the
tail. And as I anticipated, the large crowd began to have an immediate effect
on his behavior. Luckily, the macaw merely became shy, uneasily shifting his
weight back and forth, continually looking away from the crowd to his owner in
the exact same manner by which a toddler shies away from an admiring stranger
and turns towards his or her mother. Our guest speaker was no slouch though and
anticipated the bird’s every move, calming it considerably with some salted
peanuts still in the shell. As she fed the macaw one peanut at a time, the kids
“oohed” and “awed” as the macaw grabbed each with its unique zygodactyl feet
and perfectly shelled them in its massive, vice-like beak. About this time,
some loud chirps and whistles began coming from the other carrier. Someone
wanted some attention, or at the very least, some of those peanuts. “You can
get the other one out” our guest teacher told me, looking at the second
carrier. As I opened the carrier door, a beautiful green and gold caique
stepped out onto my hand. This second bird was much smaller, a little less than
half the size of the macaw. Displaying the caique (pronounced “ki-yeek”) to the
class, the guest teacher and I took turns sharing information on our avian
friends. Somewhere between the social hierarchy of macaws and the average body
temperature of tropical birds, I realized that I still had my watch on while
holding the caique, which, as the British say, simply isn’t done, old chap. Before
handling any type of animal, it is basic procedure to remove all watches, bracelets,
loose jewelry, and the like, to ensure that whatever animal you happen to be
handling does not become entangled in them. I had left my watch on, but I wasn’t
the only one who noticed. The caique noticed too and began nibbling on it with
its powerful, scissor –like beak. Knowing the bird could, and probably would,
bite clean through my watch band, I placed my other hand just in front of its
legs, expecting it to step across to my other hand. I would then simply remove
the watch and continue. At least that was the theory. The caique, however, had
no such plans! As I reached my other hand up to the caique’s legs, instead of
stepping over as I anticipated, it quickly reached down with its beak and
grabbed onto my right index finger. At that moment, my world stopped. Here I
feel it is important to note that I have, as the title of this series of
articles implies, been bitten by a wide variety of animals. From the regular animals
such as house cats and dogs to the not so regular animals, including, but not
limited to, snakes, zebras, and alligators, I have experienced more than most
in the form of an animal’s teeth clamping down on my sweet young body. I can
say, however, without any hesitation or second thought that in terms of sheer
bite force, none of them hurt as badly as that caique did. The best and most
accurate way that I can think of describing the sensation of a caique clamping
down on my finger is this: imagine a strong friend is trying to amputate your
finger with a pair of dull bolt cutters. If you can comprehend what this might
feel like, then you can understand the sense of panic that was flooding my mind
as the reality sank in that I might actually lose the end of my finger to this
bird and that it was about to happen in front of thirty children! Keeping a
cool head as I have learned to do over the years, I remarked to the bird “Come
now, that isn’t very nice”. The kids
thought that to be particularly funny, as I hoped they would. I didn’t want
them to know that inside my mind, I was screaming! Using the composure one only
earns through years of experience and hundreds of animal bites, I bet
everything on performing the hardest action there is during an incident like
this: I completely relaxed and didn’t move a muscle. Whether or not this
deliberate action caused the bird to calm down, I’ll never know. What I did
know, however, was that on some level it must have worked because after what
felt like six months, the caique let me go. Miraculously, I wasn’t bleeding and
my finger wasn’t broken. I even finished the lesson without breaking composure,
if you can believe that.
What went wrong?
Well, several things did. For starters, it simply wasn’t an intelligent idea to
handle a highly intelligent, emotional, and potentially dangerous bird in front
of such a large group. Had her owner handled her, I doubt that type of incident would have ever
happened. However, the caique had never seen me before that moment and her
shyness and unease towards me, coupled with the anxiety of being held in front
of a large group, was simply too much for her to handle. It would be the same
as expecting a child to perform in a school play in front of a large audience,
with kids she didn’t know, on her first day of school. Too many demands on the
caique at once resulted in anxiety, which nearly resulted in yours truly
missing every “y”, “u”, “h”, “j”, “n”, and “m” in this article. Not to mention
the fact that I forgot to remove my watch. Had I not overlooked that simple
rule, the incident would have been far less likely to occur in the manner it
did. Perhaps the caique would have just attempted to fly the arm’s length back
to its carrier instead of biting my finger. It was a lesson learned the hard
way. Perhaps it could be chalked up to my own unique “compromised sense”. The
common kind, that is.
Tune in next time to hear how I nearly managed to kill myself and the horse under me... at the same time!
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