In a previous blog
(“Failing Feline,” posted on 8 August) I reported that our aging
cat died recently. As he was slowly wasting away, we discussed how
and when to find another feline to replace him. For all of our more
than three decades of life here in the woods we've had a cat, for a
couple of reasons: First, I like a cat that curls up on my lap,
forming itself into a warm, fuzzy ball, especially on cold winter
nights. Second, a cat can be a useful control on rabbits and rodents.
Our garden has been partially protected by resident cats over the
years.
But to be honest, cats
also have a couple of disadvantages for us. The biggest problem is
their propensity to kill songbirds. We've done our best to discourage
their predatory action against our feathered friends (primarily by
keeping our cat indoors during the day), but we still lose half a
dozen birds each year. Another problem is expense. Veterinary bills
can get very pricey these days—especially if you spay or neuter the
cat, or if you have the bad luck of acquiring one whose genes promote
various diseases.
Then there's the issue of
acclimating and training a new cat to be a good citizen in the
household. That's another factor that we have little control over,
when we acquire a cat. Will it be a good mouser? Will it ignore mice
and go after birds? Will it care at all to curl up in my lap? Cats
for us are not mere cute pets. They have a job to do—just as any
member of the family does. To what extent would a new cat fulfill its
duties?
As I pondered the
question, I began to wonder if we really needed a cat. What if
a new cat scorned all these duties? There goes a primary reason for
having one. We might incur several cat-related expenses for nothing.
So, is there an
alternative? It occurred to me, as I thought about it, that snakes
provide many of the same services that a cat does. Snakes prey on
rodents and large insects like caterpillars, as well as birds. Oh oh
to that last one! Overall, it seems that snakes can offer many of the
same benefits that cats do; and they come with no vet bills or
commercial food to buy. Furthermore, they are a natural resident of
the area. In that sense cats (as well as we humans) are an invasive
species!
Hmmm... could snakes do
the job (for free) that cats have done for us in the past? During our
first few years here, I possessed the typical human animosity towards
snakes. We humans have a deep evolutionary repulsion of snakes. The
book of Genesis biases many us, by blaming the snake for our eviction
from the Garden of Eden. That predilection is most likely inherited
from even more distant ancestors of ours.
Furthermore, it's hard
not to flinch when we humans spot a snake. They seem to be the
essence of a threat. They slither. It almost makes one's skin crawl
to observe that sneaky slink. And only the most foolish or brave
person would dare to touch a snake! In short, an undulating serpent
appears revolting.
Or so I thought, for many
years. Gradually, however, I've come to accept—and even
appreciate—snakes. I've never had one attempt to lure me into evil,
by talking me into biting into an apple. I've never had one bite
me—let alone even really threaten me. Over the years I've learned
to understand where a snake might be residing, and thus not to
blunder into its territory. (In a similar vein I've learned the
habits of stinging wasps and bees, and how to avoid invading their
space.) In many ways, life out here has been a series of lessons of
how to share space with creatures that I once deemed pests and could
only imagine them as foes. I may not have yet come to see them as
cuddly buddies, but I can appreciate how they fulfill a role in this
small ecosystem.
More on snakes next
time...
No comments:
Post a Comment