Elephant Aid International

Category: Other animals

  • Nature At Her Finest

    Nature At Her Finest

    Sitting on my deck one late afternoon overlooking the gently flowing Buffalo River, I settled into the calm of nature listening to the many birds whose voices filled the air.

    One particular bird, a cardinal, was acting in an unusual manner, hopping from branch to branch, about eye level. His sharp high-pitched chirp seemed to be directed at me.

    I looked around and realized what he was upset about. There on my deck, not 5 feet from me, was a baby bird. Not quite a fledgling, obviously out of the nest too early. Instantly I understood her behavior: a dad concerned for his baby.

    After moving out of the way so the mom could guide her chick to safety, progress was seriously slow. The chick was so young, so weak, not capable of the feat required of her.

    After urgent encouragement from mom, the chick flew a couple of feet. Just when I was sure she would plummet into the river below, she reached out her spindly leg and grabbed a twig and righted herself but could not be urged to make another attempt at flight.

    All the while her father darted to her, then flew off again to a branch not too far away, calling in that high-pitched plea. But the chick was done for the day; she would not move.

    Dad flew off and there was only silence. I was saddened to think that the mother had abandoned his chick. I rationalized that he probably realized the chick would not survive the night. But to my surprise Dad returned minutes later, and several more times over the next 15 minutes, bringing his baby food, which the chick ate ravenously.

    The sun set, the birds quieted and I went to bed sad, convinced the baby bird would die overnight.

    When I woke to that familiar high-pitched chirp, I assumed it was another fearless father caring for another chick in peril. But my heart nearly burst and tears streamed down my face when I saw the same little chick hanging on for dear life in the exact same place as last night.

    Dad was darting back and forth trying to get the chick to follow him to a safer place, away from the water. The chick made two gallant attempts at flight, managing to put a few feet between her and the river below.

    Dad rewarded her with another feeding frenzy. I was encouraged and amazed by their tenacity, determination and grit.

    Throughout the day, the silence would be broken by Dad calling his baby closer and closer to safety. I tracked them, staying my distance so as not to interfere. The chick spent another night away from her nest, but by day three she was back under the safe wing of her mother.

    By now she is probably fully fledged and gone from the nest, soaring and learning the lessons she will need next year when she raises her own chicks.

    I felt honored to be witness to the scene as it unfolded. This mother bird did everything possible to ensure the safety and survival of her chick. You can call it maternal instinct, survival instinct or just natural behavior, but I call it love.

  • A Blessing

    A Blessing

    Like another piece of discarded trash tossed to the side of the road, a young puppy lay prone, unnoticed. At first glance I thought she was dead but then I saw her labored breathing and heard her pitiful whimper.

    Passers-by did just that–passed by without as much as a glance in her direction. Not until I sat down next to her did any human take notice. Sadly, it was not the dying puppy that caught their attention but the curious sight of a foreigner sitting on the ground comforting a dying dog.

    I have come to accept that dogs do not hold a place in the hearts of many people. Unfortunately, at least one religion teaches that dogs are the incarnation of a person who in a former life did something unspeakable. As result, that soul reincarnates in the body of a dog, destined to spend a lifetime homeless, scavenging for food, and in many cases, brutalized by humans.

    With the influence of western culture in Asia, some are beginning to see dogs in a bit of a different light. But for one little puppy it was almost too late.

    While sitting with the puppy, paying homage by witnessing her passing, I watched the sea of people walk past. Some were curious, some smiled. The westerners showed concern, most Asians were repelled. I was appalled.

    After a few minutes her breathing became shallow. She showed no sign of consciousness; she was comatose.  Ten minutes passed, then fifteen and then thirty. Sensing the need for this pup to die in a quiet, peaceful place, I picked her up and carried her home. I wasn’t sure she would survive the short walk but I knew it was better than lying on the side of a gravel road surrounded by indifference.

    Interestingly, many local Nepalese I passed on my way home expressed interest, even concern. They wanted to know what happened to the pup. When I said “pita”–someone hit her in the head with a rock–they were silent.

    I prepared a soft bed with a thick winter coat and some towels and laid her lifeless body down on what I thought would be her deathbed. A dose of Arnica Montana seemed to slow her rapid breathing and helped ease her pain. She wasn’t able to see or hear me and I wonder if she even felt me. But I did my best to surround her with as much love as I could as she made her transition to the other side.

    A few more doses of Arnica Montana and she started breathing normally and dropped into a deep sleep. And then to my surprise, she woke up. She was able to drink but barely able to stand without falling.  Her forehead was swollen and painful.  She seemed to have suffered some brain trauma because her motor skills, eyesight, sense of smell and hearing were all affected.

    Quite by coincidence, a team of vets that was providing a rabies clinic in the area, found out about the pup and came by to examine her. They confirmed that a blow to the head caused a deep-seated injury resulting in brain trauma. Only time would tell if she would recover. She received medication to address possible infection and pain, and to reduce the swelling in her brain.

    She rested a lot, ate and drank well, but found walking a bit challenging. Due to the trauma she kept walking in circles to the left.

    It has been a week since I found “Little Girl” dying in the road and she is steadily recovering. Her circling to the left is nearly gone and her coordination is at about 90 percent. Her hearing, sight and smell are still affected but she is slowly regaining them as well.

    This little street puppy has been an unexpected blessing, and now comes the greatest challenge: finding a good home for her in a culture not accustomed to caring for dogs, especially one with special needs.

    While the search to find her a good home continues, Little Girl will live with me, recuperating and learning to play tug of war with a sock.

  • ke garne…what to do?

    I have held off writing this blog for weeks hoping that my experience was anecdotal. I also wondered if sharing my experience and expressing my concern could be beneficial or would simply broaden the already huge culture gap that divides humans who view all beings as sentient and those who do not. As the situation continues to repeat itself over and over again I realize—even though I am still unsure of the outcome—that an expression of my concern is required.

    Over the past four months I have been immersed in creating a healthy environment for six captive held elephants in Nepal. The challenge to improve their welfare is relatively easy, their transition seemingly effortless. The problems we experience are not with the elephants, it’s with people.

    Although the facility where I am working is a private NGO conducting wildlife conservation studies, the general public feels it is their right to enter the grounds and act in any manner they please, which at a minimum consists of invading the animals’ personal space to take photos—not of the animal but of themselves standing next to the animal. Sadly, the animal is insignificant; it is a photo of themselves that they wish to save for prosperity.

    It has become increasingly distressing to witness the degree to which people disregard and abuse animals. Even authority figures are unable to protect captive held wildlife and wild animals from insidious abuse by humans.

    This exasperating situation is repeated all over Asia, where wildlife, both captive and in-situ, find themselves harassed by frenzied mobs of non-empathetic humans.

    Take, for example, the recent craze in Coimbatore forests in India, where crowds of people gather on a regular basis to incite wild elephants to become aggressive. Who has the power to change the mindset that gives people permission to harass wild animals on this grand scale? Where is common decency? And where does religion come into play in the cultural abuse of non-human animals?

    It has been my observation that policing authorities have little influence on crowds of people unless batons and violence are employed. A seemingly docile crowd can erupt into an angry, violent mob in seconds. The trigger that transforms a crowd of people is simple: ask someone to stop doing what s/he is doing.

    For example, request that a person not enter a private area and your request will be met with a refusal,  followed by immediate argument. All the while, the offender will continue to enter the premises, totally ignoring the request.

    The problem is compounded if the person is not alone but accompanied by others, which is most often the case. Everyone will equally ignore the request and add their voice to the argument. The volume of verbal resistance increases until a confrontation ensues, with the offending crowd encircling the requester, yelling their refusal in an attempt to intimidate.

    The offenders appear to cross all lines of common decency, causing stress and trauma to the wildlife, who have no other way to respond but to become aggressive to protect themselves. At this point the animal is viewed as the offender and made to suffer further for his/her response to the abusive crowd of unruly people.

    Trying to stop the abuse

    I wonder almost every day what can be done to prevent widespread, systematic animal abuse. Education is the most obvious, but until such time as a new generation can be sensitized to the pain and suffering of non-human animals, the question remains, what can be done to protect the innocent?

    We have tried posting signs, which are torn down and spat upon. Placing an educator in key locations to speak with the public, both about the wildlife and the appropriate human behavior in the presence of wildlife, proved equally ineffective. The public argues, demands to be allowed past the barrier, pushes past, verbally abuses the educator and demands to touch, feed and have their photo taken touching the captive wildlife.

    I witness crowds of people taunting wild animals and intentionally abusing domestic livestock and street dogs on a regular basis. The lack of empathy and even malice shown toward non-human animals is mirrored in the manner in which a rioting crowd responds to authority figures. On too many occasions I have witnessed a complete disregard and disrespect for a reasonable and legal request, such as “please do not feed, tease, hit or touch the animal.” Surprisingly, many people appear to view these activities as one of their inalienable rights.

    It is not possible for me to turn my back and walk away when animals are being abused. As result, on too many occasions, I have become the focus of an enraged crowd of near-violent humans ready to bash my head in because I have told them to stop harassing the elephants, to not hit the dog or even to refrain from tormenting the baby rhino.  Admittedly, nothing I have tried has worked to stop the violence except to stand between the tormentors and the animal they have targeted. But this approach is not sustainable. So then, what to do?

    Fencing has been used to keep captive wildlife in. Until a new empathetic generation emerges it appears the same approach must be taken to keep the human wildlife out.

  • Wildlife SOS – INDIA

    Wildlife SOS – INDIA

    During this trip to India I basically sequestered myself in Bannerghatta, singularly focused on the care center project. As my pending departure loomed I realized that I had failed to visit other projects. There really is so much to see—elephant welfare-wise—in India, I was kicking myself for not setting aside time to further my education.

    Literally days before my visa was to expire I received an email invitation from Kertick and Geeta of Wildlife SOS to visit their facilities in Agra. True to my nature, I hesitated at first — not because I did not want to visit their bear and elephant facilities but because my flight was already booked and I did not want to pay the flight change fee.

    Fortunately, my flight from Bangalore to Kathmandu had a plane change in Delhi, the airport I needed to fly into for Wildlife SOS. I was able to postpone the second leg of the flight, giving me almost three days to spend with the Wildlife SOS staff at both their bear and elephant facilities.

    The visit would have been perfect if Kertick and Geeta were in the country but they were in California, presenting at the PAWS elephant summit and other venues. In their absence, their expert staff took care of all arrangements, which made my visit very comfortable. I hope Geeta, Ketrick and I will meet in the next few weeks, as they plan to come to Nepal to observe my work in Sauraha.

    The work Geeta, Kertick and staff have done to rescue and rehabilitate dancing bears is nothing short of miraculous. The facilities are well designed, with expansive yards, spotless night houses and a dedicated and knowledgeable team of caregivers and veterinarians.

    I was in the education hut sitting on a couch viewing one of many informative videos about dancing bears and the plight of other Indian wildlife, when something—light as a feather—touched my shoulder. I assumed it was an insect and reached up to gently brush it away without taking my eyes off the screen.

    Without a sound or advance warning more than the gentle shoulder tap that I mistook for an insect, something much heavier than an insect, maybe four or five pounds, warm and hairy, jumped onto my head. I froze and whatever-it-was froze. I had no idea what it was. It was completely silent and warm, grasping my hair in what felt like many tiny hands.

    Not being able to see what was perched on my head was indeed unnerving, and no one else seemed to be around. I trusted that I would not have been put into this room alone with anything dangerous so I considered my options. Yelling for assistance was out. Reaching up to remove my head ornament seemed risky. And waiting for someone to come to my rescue seemed unrealistic.

    My decision was to slowly reach towards my head to see what would happen. The “thing” leapt from my head across the room to a chair and then back to my head again. Her movement was quick but as she was flying through the air getting ready to land on my head again I saw the “thing” was a young capuchin monkey.

    Even though I am comfortable with captive wild animals I respect them by keeping my distance because I feel interaction is not in their best interest. But this little creature obviously felt differently. She leap frogged from her chair to my head a couple of times and then remained perched on my head. With no staff in sight I realized I would need to deal with this little bundle of curious energy on my own. I was not opposed, I just did not want to do anything wrong, not having been around a primate before.

    Gently untangling my hair from her tiny fingers she allowed me to remove her from my head and lower her to the couch. We looked at each other—too cute is all I can say—as she ever so confidently climbed into my lap, took hold of my hand and placed it on her belly. There was no misunderstanding this gesture — she wanted a tummy rub.

    I admit to being in heaven while at the same time wondering how I could justify having a monkey in my lap. In the end I did not try to justify it, I simply accepted the experience as the gift it was and enjoyed every second she remained in my lap. A few minutes later one of the resident Great Dane rescues showed up, sending her dashing from the room.

    Escorted by staff veterinarians we first toured the bear facilities and then drove a short distance to the temporary elephant facility. Set up on five or six acres of land, the elephant facility is a good start for the rescued elephants. The facility is well designed, with stables for shade and nighttime, sand piles to avoid hard surfaces, a steel corral stable for bulls and a circular concrete pool that is the high point of everybody’s day.

    It was amusing to watch Rajesh, a beautiful full-grown bull with massive tusks, submerged for hours, gently bobbing around in the pool.

    I did a little foot care and target training to give the vets, mahouts and elephants an idea of what was to come in the future. The mahouts have already changed how they work with the elephants to a great degree. The harsh tone and demanding commands are still used but the ankus and infliction of pain are not. I could see the mahouts are being won over to other ways of working with their elephants — it was exciting to see the progress they have already made.

    Kartick and Geeta have plans to move the elephants to a very large tract of land. I have decided to accept their invitation to be involved in this project and recommend that you visit their site and support their work for rescued bears and elephants.

     

  • my Visa has run out

    It’s hard to believe that my time in India—for now—is up because my visitor visa is about to expire. I admit that I thought by now the fencing would be in and the first elephant on her way. But things simply don’t work that quickly here. No criticism intended, just recognition of how the system works.

    Practicing patience is a requirement when working in Asia. Even getting a map of the local area from the regional office is riddled with complications. The difficulty is not because I am a foreigner; the locals experience the same frustrating delays.

    Without a doubt we are spoiled in America. If I want a map of any property in my county, I simply go to the clerk’s office. In all my years of using the service there has never been a waiting line and has always been a helpful clerk behind the desk ready to provide me with any information I need. For a nominal fee I receive—within minutes—a printed copy of the records of any property, which include acreage, dimensions, location and purchase price. Now that’s what I call customer service!

    In spite of the difficulties encountered pulling together all the necessary documents, I am thankful for what we have accomplished in these past three months. As result of my daily excursions, I know every inch of the place — every land feature, hill, curve in the creek, pasture, rock formation and water catchment. I have seen what vegetation is thriving and what is struggling and how the serious lack of precipitation during this seasonal dry spell affects the area. Most important, I see the potential of this land and what a blessing it is for elephants and other indigenous wildlife.

    Living alongside the villagers I now have an intimate knowledge of their lifestyle, activities, needs and challenges, and how they care for their livestock.

    Although the village dogs have a canine community of their own, they are constant companions to the villagers. Basically ignored, they silently pad along behind the herder with his sheep, goats and cattle; accompany the village women doing laundry and dishes at the lake or collecting vegetation for the livestock; and shadow the village men collecting fire wood and resources for their homes. And then, at the end of each long hot day when lights are switched off and blaring communal music silenced, the dogs stand watch all night, protecting the villagers’ life and livestock by warding off intruders, including wild elephants.

    With a great deal of necessary information already collected we will continue to pursue the area maps, surveys, property documents and the long-awaited final endorsement by the government. Let’s hope we can do it in record time.

    In the meantime, while I abide by the visa requirements and await the docs required to continue the care center project, I am off to Nepal to continue the work I started last year. There are many elephants in need of pedicures, mahouts eager to learn new skills, veterinarians anxious to receive a new stock of trimming tools and a retirement center to brainstorm!

  • March update on India Care Center Project

    March update on India Care Center Project

    Carol in her officeFrom my lake-front office, Bannerghatta, India

    The two months since my arrival in India have been filled — with meetings, brainstorming sessions, hiking through cinder-dry forests and continual reality checks.

    It is so important that I am here now—on the care center site—to study the land, the wild elephant activity in the adjacent forest, the habits of the local villagers and the laws that govern land ownership and use. There is so much to learn, I am ever thankful that everyone I am working with speaks fluent English.

    The project’s scope widens

    The project has remained focused on elephant welfare but its scope and approach has shifted a bit…for the better.

    Initially, we planned to have a relatively small plot of land in exchange for the care center elephants being allowed access to the national forest. Allowing elephants nighttime access to the forest is standard practice for the forest department’s captive-held elephants and seemed like a viable solution to limited day time space.

    But as I hiked the adjacent national forestland, I was disheartened to see how the forest’s resources are exploited. The forest herself appears to be barely breathing, suffering from over-grazing, intentionally set fires and the destruction of trees by the local villages that border the forest.

    Seeing the poor condition of the forest made me realize how the wild elephants are struggling to survive, with not enough food, water or shelter to sustain them. The idea of adding even a few more elephants to the already stressed habitat—reducing wild elephant resources even further—was a deal breaker for me.

    Following a frank discussion with the collaborators on the project, we decided to expand the land used for the care center, something close to 200 acres, thereby eliminating the need for the center’s elephants to use the forest.

    No chains, no dominance

    This change in operations has resulted in positive shifts in the facility design and style of elephant care.

    The original plan called for a small plot of land and giving the elephants access to the national forest at night. But I recently learned that allowing the elephants into the forest overnight called for a compromise: the elephants would have been required to wear a drag chain on one leg whenever they were in the forest. The chain helps keep them from being mistaken for wild elephants by villagers and makes it easier for the mahouts to track, retrieve and return them to their home during daylight hours.

    But now, with national forest use no longer an issue, there is no compromise required – chains will have no place at the care center.

    You can imagine how excited I am about this unforeseen turn of events! I had almost been convinced that in India elephants will never be completely free of chains. But with our land expansion we will be able to do just that—keep elephants on a large tract of forested land, free of chains and dominance.

    Infrastructure development and acquiring land

    As result of this positive shift in the design of the project, we need more time for preconstruction development than earlier projected. We must conduct an expanded survey to identify land ownership. Surveying the entire tract of land will provide the legal assurance required prior to constructing the miles of necessary trenching and fencing.

    This expansion also requires a follow-up communication to the government informing them of our desire to expand…even before we have begun!

    We also have the challenge of acquiring a small parcel of land that is essential to the project but is currently occupied by another person. We have received assurance that this parcel of land—approximately seven acres—can be acquired.

    In India, land rights are complicated but well defined, if not always enforced. In some cases property owners hold a deed and are permitted to sell to whomever they choose. In other cases, villagers and tribals who receive land from the government are allowed to pass the land down to family members, but are not allowed to sell outright.

    Becoming familiar with the regulations is essential for anyone intending to own, lease or occupy land in India.

    I am told that when it comes to land, possession is nine-tenths of the law and even in cases in which the land cannot be sold, occupants can accept payment to vacate. As I understand, once they have vacated the land, another person can occupy it, with stipulations that it be used for some agricultural purpose or forest restoration and it can never be sold. One small parcel of land essential to our project falls in this category.

    I am keeping a positive outlook about acquiring this piece of land, which stretches across the edge of the lake, one of the essential areas for our elephants. Negotiations are underway. All I can do right now is wait.

    Co-existing with wild elephants

    In the meantime, I am tracking the movement and land use of wild elephants in the area. There is one section of the care center land they frequent. All the collaborators have agreed that no care center land used by wild elephants will be blocked to them. Our goal is to be mindful that our project, although well meaning and helpful to captive elephants, not cause hardship to wild elephants who use the land.

    We have identified a small corridor just inside the care center property, adjacent to the national forest, where wild elephants leave the forest to enter the care center property. They have a well-established path, which will remain open for their use.

    Protecting this wild elephant corridor is another unexpected development that makes me even more excited about the care center project. Being able to create a healthy space for captive elephants to recover and thrive, while at the same time preserving land for wild elephants who migrate through the area, feels like the right thing to do.

    Care center and bird sanctuary

    With an estimated 180 different species of wild birds in the area, the care center property is already a bird sanctuary. Never before have I been so enthralled by bird watching but from day one I was in awe of the many different birds and their beauty.

    The lakes draw a variety of fishing birds, from the Indian Pond Heron to the regal Brahminy Kite. Their nonstop activity, sometimes entertainingly comical, has sparked my interest in studying these winged creatures with whom I now share my space.

    The animated and gutsy Blue Eared Kingfisher was the first to catch my attention. His fishing perch is feet from my outdoor office. The first time I watched him make a catch, I admit to being a bit shocked that this minute blue bundle of constant movement disarmed his prey by bashing its head against a rock.

    I’ve observed Brahminy Kites collecting branches for nest building, a trio of Red-Wattled Lapwings singing a chorus, a Black Shoulder Kite dive-bombing to catch a mouse and a Great Cormorant perching on a branch 30 feet above the lake on its awkward looking webbed feet. I’ve seen egrets of every size follow the resident horses, snatching up displaced insects. Then there were the stunning Rufous Treepie, Red Whiskered Bulbul and a pair of White Browed Wagtails who chased a Crested Serpent Eagle away from their favorite tree.

    Being able to observe so much winged activity has opened a new world to me.

    Survey and land

    Surveying the expanded land is the next step required to move forward on this project. Acquiring the seven-acre parcel of land currently in negotiations will come after that, followed by a government endorsement of our expansion. All this needs to be accomplished before beginning construction.

    Fencing and trenching

    Only after the survey is completed, the extra parcel of land acquired and government approval secured can we begin work on the perimeter trenching and electric fence required to keep wild elephants out and our care center elephants chain-free inside. The fencing is estimated to cost $7 per foot/$36,000 per mile. The approximately four miles of trenching and electric fence will come to about $142,000.

    Compare this to the average $100 per foot elephant sanctuaries in the US spend on fencing. For 7 percent of the cost, we can provide a safe and secure, chain-free environment for needy elephants in their authentic natural habitat while simultaneously protecting wild elephants and their land.

    I am very anxious to move forward on this project but am cognizant that we cannot overlook any step or detail in our enthusiasm to make the care center a reality. If great journeys are launched one step at a time, who knows where helping one elephant at a time will take us.

    Please visit EAI’s Facebook page so I can keep you updated on our progress as it happens!

    Thank you for your interest and continued support. This care center promises to be more than any of us ever expected. Thank you for sharing my dream.

    Carol

  • progress report of sorts

    progress report of sorts

    Each day living at the proposed care center property brings more insight and, in some cases, more unanswered questions.

    The temperature has heated up, causing afternoon activities to slow down. Even the shade offers little relief. Thank goodness for the breeze that has proven to be a near constant in this area.

    Today a group of college students arrived to tour the property. This is a popular education sight for the conservation minded. The students, all city dwellers, were given an opportunity to see how desperate the situation is for the forest in this area.

    Included in the group was a man who has dedicated his life to bringing awareness to India’s conservation issues. We shared a few minutes of conversation and he expressed true dread about the future of the area’s forests. When I commented on how important it is for the youth to become involved in conservation, he bluntly said he felt there was not enough time for us to wait for this new generation to turn things around—at least not in this immediate area. It was a sobering statement from a person who has studied the deterioration first-hand. I felt his desperation.

    As the students followed their professor down the levee, responding to his questions about plant life and its purpose in a forest area, the resident Brahminy Kite soared overhead. This was her third cruising over the lake this morning and she was putting on quite a show. Her massive wingspan and grace were spellbinding. Keenly eying the lake below, she circled and soared, gently dipping toward the water.

    A much smaller bird pestered her with dive bombs but the Kite expertly shrugged the pest away with a well-calculated twist, dip and spin whenever the attacker got too close. As she soared overhead I was able to get a few good photos but none that really did her grace and precision justice.

    I am learning, out of necessity, about land holdings here. The jigsaw pieces of this puzzle are finally coming together to give me a clearer picture of how things work. Perhaps I should have read up on India’s land laws before coming but, honestly, the thought never crossed my mind. I naively assumed that you buy land, sell it, lease, rent or give it away. I now have a clearer understanding of other ways a person can acquire land, how land can be occupied and how possession is—or isn’t— regulated.

    According to those I have consulted with, one of the important things for me to know is that occupation is nine-tenths of the law. But more on that later.

    The collaborators on the care center project are meeting regularly to provide progress reports on each partner’s responsibilities and to discuss questions and issues as they arise. Everyone is dedicated to the project and wants to make sure we have considered every eventuality before taking the next step.

    The time that is being taken to ensure we don’t overlook anything in the early planning stage has been invaluable to me. More often than not, I awake in the morning with a much sought-after solution to a challenge or with a new idea that I had not yet considered. The work that is being done on a subconscious level—while I sleep—makes me laugh because, without question, I am working on the project day and night.

    In the process of developing the project I have been fortunate to meet many very kind and gentle people. They share a passion for the project, which is a blessing. I clearly remember while dreaming up the Elephant Sanctuary for Tarra that many people, mostly colleagues, were less than supportive of the idea. Of course my family knew very well that the dream I had been dreaming for so many years would indeed come to fruition and could not have been more supportive. So to have complete strangers, with no vested interest in the success of the care center project, show this degree of interest and support is very gratifying.

    On a wild elephant sighting note: A few nights ago an adolescent male was seen harvesting jack fruit from the tree on the perimeter of the village only a few hundred yards from my house. The fellow was sly and silent; I did not hear a sound. If it had not been for the village dogs sounding the alarm, no one would have witnessed the midnight raid.

  • opinions

    Recently I watched as a herd of domestic cattle wandered into an off-limits area. My mind raced with opinions and judgment about the person responsible for allowing the cattle to trespass, when I saw a small family of pig wallowing in the lake alongside the cattle. The pigs caught my eye for two reasons: they were having a glorious time running into the belly-deep water, throwing their bodies down and rolling in the mud, and I had never seen the village man with these pigs before.

    I remember thinking that the pigs looked almost identical to the wild pigs in the area. I quickly assumed that a pair had probably been captured some time back and this was the result of captive breeding. I spent no more time pondering the scene before me. I had formulated an opinion that I had no reason to doubt: the pigs mingling with the domestic cows were themselves domesticated and owned by the same person.

    Later that evening when I recounted the pig sighting, Vishnu asked, “Pigs? Are you sure? The village does not keep pigs.” I’d seen what I’d seen and insisted the pigs belonged to the herder from the nearby village.

    Sometime later, as my mind wandered back over the day, my brain froze on the pig scene. What I had observed came together with Vishnu’s statement and in a flash I realized that the opinion I had formed was dead wrong. Because I had not seen pigs at the lake before, the cows were already at the lake when I saw the pigs, the two groups of animals appeared undisturbed by the other and all wandered off into the forest together, I assumed they were together. I was wrong.

    I had jumped to a conclusion based only on what I’d seen and the information I had at the time. In fact, the pigs were wild. The village does not keep pigs and when Vishnu recounted my sighting to them, the village man said that he had seen the wild pigs as well and was quite surprised how comfortable all the animals were together.

    This single experience has caused me to think deeply about how we formulate our opinions. How many times do we jump to a conclusion based on what we think we see or hear or based on limited information? I am now more mindful of the opinions I formulate and less impacted by the opinions of others.

  • new neighbors

    new neighbors


    Well, I guess I’ve done it now. I will probably be arrested for dog nabbing.

    Soon after arriving here, after Derrick abandoned me to return to his first home, a hungry suckling dog came scavenging around my place. I felt bad because there wasn’t anything for her to eat so I gave her a dish of soymilk. She was tentative and very apprehensive about allowing me even to walk past her. With her tail between her legs she’d scurry off to a safe distance from me. She would not take her eyes off me until I left the area.

    Over the past two weeks her visits have become regular and more frequent. Lately she quietly stands on the threshold of my open door, calmly looking at me. I try to remember to cook more than I need so there will be leftovers for her.

    She has also taken to spending more time just hanging out, most likely to spend time away from her growing pups. I knew she had one pup because I saw it as I walked through her village during one of my scouting expeditions. But yesterday I had a surprise.

    When Momma dog came for her AM soymilk there were two, blue-eyed pups tagging along behind her. They looked to be no more than six weeks old; cute does not come close to describing them. They steered clear of me and one even let out what was supposed to be a ferocious bark to make sure I did not approach. Too cute.

    Today when Momma dog stood in my doorway, patiently waiting to see if there were any leftovers, two cute faces peeked out from behind her. Their visit was not the surprise of the day; it was when I saw the pups playing on my porch—with no mom in sight—that I realized what she had done. Seriously, the pups were playing, let out one halfhearted whine when they realized Mom was gone, then plopped down by the porch step and fell fast asleep.

    I looked for Mom but she was gone. We will see if she intends for this to be a permanent residence change or just an opportunity for her pups to get to know the neighbors. Either way, I hope their owners don’t think I puppy nabbed them.

  • The Blue Eared King Fisher

    The Blue Eared King Fisher

    One of the first birds I photographed on Elephant Lake was this stunning Blue Eared Kingfisher (BEK). The little guy may be small in stature but he has a huge attitude.

    When I set up my lakefront office I was unaware of its real estate value to the local winged fishermen. For two days after my arrival, BEK fished from a nearby tree but, on the third day, a flash of blue caught my eye as he landed on a soiled rock jetting out of the dam wall only a few feet below me. The bird droppings on the rock and his territorial behavior made me realize that my outdoor office was his preferred fishing location.

    The first evening he was brave enough to claim his fishing perch, he kept cocking his head in my direction and bobbing his body up and down wildly — all 5 inches of him — in a way that could only be interpreted as “go away.”

    I understood what he wanted but hoped that diverting my eyes would suffice. I remained perfectly still and completely quiet and he soon turned his attention to dinner. Within minutes he caught his first fish, a glistening slender silver catch easily twice the length of his beak. Returning to his rock jetty perch he swallowed the fish in one gulp, but only after bashing its head on the rock. The head bashing was kind of shocking, but it was quick and precise. I don’t know why I assumed that all fishing birds eat their catch live.

    I have been working from my lake front office for nearly two weeks now and BEK and I have settled into a very comfortable pattern. I arrive early to avoid disturbing his routine, respectful of the window of time when bugs land on the water, fish swim to the surface to feed on the bugs and the blue eared wonder dives down and snatches a meal. I admit to being intrigued by the feeding process but divert my eyes during the head bashing.

    While I download emails and catch up on communications, my blue eared neighbor goes about his business, hardly paying attention to me. But I can’t help staring at him when he is not looking, he is so irresistibly stunning.

  • Getting Settled In

    This afternoon I said good-bye to Bangalore, piled my bags into Vishnu’s vehicle and headed out on yet another classic Indian adventure. Vishnu is a collaborating partner of the Care Center project and long term conservationist, friend and supporter.

    Not wanting to appear to be a sissy by hiding in the back seat, I strapped myself securely in the front passenger seat. I had to remind myself to breathe. You have not experienced “rush hour traffic” until you have been in downtown Bangalore at five in the evening.

    The streets were full of focused drivers making a mad dash for every open inch of road space, and I mean inch. I would never be the passenger on one of those motorcycles. The women sit seemingly so relaxed, dressed fastidiously in their flowing garments, many sitting side-saddle, hardly holding on to the driver in front of them. For sure I would have the driver in a death grip and would screech each time another vehicle blew past us.

    Dodging pedestrians, motorcycles, bicyclists and mobile venders — just to name a few of the moving obstacles — while jockeying for the front bumper position with every manner of bus, car, truck, motorcycle and moped, is a well-earned skill. When I wasn’t covering my eyes to avoid the six dimensional road mayhem playing out in front of me, I was remotely able to appreciate the organized chaos.

    Daylight hours on the highway are treacherous enough, but when the sun sets and drivers flip on their head lamps, the result is instant blindness. Seriously, I cannot figure out how drivers stay on the road and avoid hitting not only oncoming traffic but any of the other obstacles that appear to pop out of the darkness directly in front of you. I guess people who pay to be terrified by an amusement park ride would consider this serious fun!

    It was pitch dark by the time we turned off the main road. I never thought I would be so happy to see a poorly maintained pitted dirt road. I could finally relax. After a few minutes we drove under a raised guard rail and entered the National Forest. I immediately felt things shift. Vishnu slowed the vehicle to a comfortable speed and appeared to be breathing in the surroundings. There is a wonderful feel to this place — quiet and peacefully alive.

    Even though our trip was less than 50 kilometers, it took more than three hours to arrive “home.” Oh, yes, of course, there were numerous stops along the way. A few kilos of rice, a cylinder of propane, and some fresh produce added a colorful flavor to the experience.

    As we pulled up to my new home-away-from-home, the headlights spilled over Derrick, poised on the porch. His tail wagged gently in welcome, in a soft, unhurried manner. Derrick is an ex-street dog who won the heart of Vishnu and his wife. Like most street dogs, Derrick is wise, has excellent street smarts and is a soft bundle of golden sweetness.

    I silently hoped that Derrick would abandon his master for at least one night and stay at my place. I guess he read my mind because when Vishnu turned to leave, Derrick calmly headed towards my open door. I wondered if by chance Derrick was allowed in the house, but actually, I know better. Vishnu gently told him to stay outside. I’m not sure which one of us was more disappointed, Derrick or I. We shared my dinner under a star-bright sky and I fell asleep with a smile thinking of this new pup in my life.

    Dogs are the same the world over. It makes no difference if they are a shabby looking street dog, a pampered pedigreed show dog or the rescued mutt that brings us such joy. They are amazing creatures who provide protection and unconditional love. They have so much to teach us.

  • Animals Asia

    January 12, 2011

    My last full day in Vietnam was spent at the Animals Asia bear rescue center outside of Hanoi. Many thanks to Jill Robinson, founder of this superb facility, for introducing me to her project. You need to check out this project on-line at www.animalsasia.org.

    Hundreds of bears benefit from the efforts of Jill and her competent staff. The facilities are well designed and the staff are experts in their field. As for the bears, well they are pure bundles of joys, so immersed in their freedom that visitors do not get a second glance. Actually, visitors don’t get a first glance, a sign that Jill and her colleagues are succeeding at their efforts to rehabilitate bears rescued from bile farms. I so appreciate the time Jill and her staff spent with me and recommend that you support their efforts.