Well. Where to start? I suppose I should mention that the roommates from a previous entry are back. They should be leaving today, and they got here Wednesday evening. The graduate student and I decided he would email me directly when he was coming, so I wouldn't be surprised like last time. So, this time, not being taken by surprise, has been a lot nicer. They still do "roommate" things, but it's easier to overlook them. I even made room for them in the fridge. I know. I'm too magnanimous for my own good. :) Oh. And I got my lighter back. I told Shelby to cancel the report on the petty theft. I think he rolled his eyes at me.
Yesterday morning I found several fun things in my traps. One, I found another Kangaroo rat in the same area where I caught the 2nd Kangaroo Rat. And before you take my "another" too seriously, I'll go ahead and confess that this was, in fact, the same 9.5 inch, female Kangaroo rat. The polish on her nails had pretty much faded, but I still detected some on her paw, where she had gotten a little squirmy and I missed. But how serendipitous was that mishap! Now I know that I should probably start painting fur as well as nails. She ended up getting another pedicure for her troubles. Funnily enough, she didn't act like she wanted to be in my gloved hand. Lots of squeaking, squirming, rapid heart beat, etc. However, when I bent close to blow on her drying nails, she got completely still and calm. Not even the little squeak after that, and she kept her eyes closed. My assumption is she realized the game was lost, and she was about to become food. I set her down by my feet and she looked around her - surprised. She actually shook her head before she took off again. Poor girl. But maybe she's learned her lesson because I didn't catch her this morning.
By yesterday morning, I thought I was pretty prepared for the types of creatures I could find in my mammal traps (really a misnomer). I had caught rodents, of course, but also frogs, snakes, and lizards (not to mention the odd number of crickets that make their way into the traps). But I thought wrong. Yesterday morning proved that. I caught a bird. Yes. A bird in a trap that was on the ground in a pasture. She (I know it was a she because of the non-distinguished coloring) was some sort of sparrow - not a House sparrow, which I've worked a lot with. I opened up the latch and she flew away, scolding and insulting me the whole time. Not my fault she has a weakness for PB and oats.
I also caught a Hispid Pocket mouse yesterday. It's a really cool creature - large for a mouse. It's related to hamsters and gerbils. It has very small ears and a large nose. It's most distinguishing physical characteristic, though, is its fur. It starts out on top with black fur with yellow tips (it kind of gives this mixed or mottled black/yellow color). On its belly it is pale - to be expected. But inbetween those two colors is this tawny, orange colored fur. This (and the two-toned tail) was how I knew that it was at least a mouse I should know (way back I took a 2 week, 3 hr Mammalogy course, where we had to identify lots and lots (upwards of 70) of mammals down to scientific name. And the two hardest groups were the bats and the rodents - so when I caught that little guy, the only thing I could think of was "remember the fur! remember the fur!" Goes to show what a 2 week long cram session can do to you. Couldn't remember the scientific or common name. Only remembered enough to know that I should know what it was!)I called in help - a friend who had also taken the course. She got out her book, and sure enough, it was a Hispid pocket mouse. This species, like the KS glossy snake, is a species that was thought to be on the refuge, but has never been confirmed. Wrestling with my conscience, I ended up deciding to give the little guy (who growled at me, even) to Curtis so his poor snakes could eat. Mom didn't approve. I didn't approve either, really, but I told Curtis I'd help out. Then I look into those cute little rodent eyes that say "Why do you want to make a Happy Meal out of me?" and realize I've made a promise that's very hard for me to keep.
Curtis didn't help. When I gave it to him, I said how cute he (the mouse. not Curtis) was. And he looked at it and said, "Yeah....tasty!". Then to my further unwilling amusement, he bent down to peer at the tawny, orange fur and said, "Caramel!" haha. Good to have a sense of humor about these things, I guess.
When I told Emily about the mouse, I was still deciding if it was a Plains pocket mouse or a Hispid pocket mouse. So we walked down to identify it together. We saw Curtis on the way back and she so, "So!....Mouse killer!" Curtis, the snake man, just chuckled.
But before you get to thinking of Curtis as the enemy of small mammals everywhere (and me as the accomplice) this morning I found another Hispid Pocket mouse in the same exact trap, and I let it go. When I told the refuge biologist, Ron, this, he gave me this really disappointed face. It turns out, since they're a newly confirmed species, he needs a specimen (several of them, really, he tells me) to freeze and preserve. So the next ones I find, could I please bring them to him so he could kill them and freeze them? Ron then asked what else I had caught this morning, and I told him I caught a white footed mouse in the same area - that I also let go. After clearing up the confusion between "white footed mouse," "white footed deer mouse," and "white footed jumping mouse," he mentioned that, "if I would" he could use several of those too to put in what I'm affectionately calling the 'Freezer of Death'. Sigh. Given this choice of evils, I must say I'd rather see Curtis' snakes fat and sassy. Ah, well. All in the name of science... (Poke the baby rhesus monkey again, Professor Harlow! (for those who don't know what I'm talking about: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_Harlow))
Yesterday, the refuge manager, Jon, and Shelby both (and at different times) reminded me that Saturday marks the first day of dove hunting season. They both thought that I might should move some of my traps that were in a heavily hunted area, lest they start walking off. So that put me this morning in another farm field further north of the refuge's hunting boundary. At first glance, I really liked the field. It was smaller and narrower, and bordered on the South end by woods, and the West and East sides by tall grass prairie habitat. Even near 10:00 in the morning, a large part of the field was shaded. It gave off this whole vibe of being remote and peaceful. I happily start re-setting up my 19 recently evicted traps. I put 9 of them right in the middle of the field and the last 10 along the western edge of it. It was there that I found this little shrubby grassy patch. I thought maybe I should put a trap there, but weirdly had this not good feeling about it. I told myself to get over it, it wasn't like there were spiders there waiting to inject poison into me. It looked like a place a K. rat might hang out.
Apparently, I wasn't the only one who thought that.
As I put the trap down, not three feet to the left of my hand I heard this rattle. At first, my sleepy brain says "Cicada". But then, a more panicky part of the nervous system replies, "Too deep to be a cicada. Has to be....Oh God!" I very hastily back up and step of the remainder of my traps. Never did see the sucker (only heard him), and I thought about going in for a closer look. I took a step before my brain brings up a video I once saw of how quickly and how far rattlesnakes can strike. So I decided I really didn't want to piss this guy off anymore. It's really pretty cool though. I've never heard a rattlesnake's rattle in real life before. Haha. I can just hear my mom saying "Oh yeah, Jenn, that's cool." Let's just hope that he's gone by the time I go to set that trap this evening.ps - I cannot claim any pictures except the very first. But they're good, aren't they?
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