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CALL  WWWCALGARYCA
 Issue 03 December 05/January 06

Publisher (Articles and Inquiries)

Bob Fielder
publisher@creaturesall.ca
Editorial
In This Issue
Linda Fielder
editor@creaturesall.ca Altered Endings – Sadie is oblivious to the fact that
Display Ad Inquiries
sales@creaturesall.ca
she is seen as an outcast. 8
www.creaturesall.ca
YOIKS! – Today I was going to confront my arch-enemy. 10
Graphic Design
Bob Fielder
publisher@creaturesall.ca Angelica’s Story – I was up for a long time that night,
shocked by something my husband confessed. 16
A Wolf Pup Named Moab – The wolf is neither man’s
Printing competition nor his enemy. 20
Quebecor World
Mailing address: Saying Good-bye to Billy – I don’t run upstairs now,
creaturesall just to see if he’s still alive.
P.O. Box 126,
Langdon, AB T0J 1X0
creaturesall is published 6 times per year (February,
Too Late – It happened around 1954 -’55 28
April, June, August, October and December) by
1160613 ALBERTA LTD. and distributed freely in Every Crowd has a Silly Rhyming – geese are
Alberta the first week of the publication month.
Advertisers and contributors assume responsibility
a gaggle in groups 29
and liability for the accuracy of their claims and
statements. The opinions and views expressed in
articles do not necessarily reflect those of the
Publisher or advertisers. creaturesall reserves the
Columns
right to refuse any advertising. All submissions will
receive a reply if email address is provided. Writers Wagging Tales – stories from a veterinarian’s clinic 11
may submit a story or story idea by email to
publisher@creaturesall.ca
Copyright 2005 by 1160613 ALBERTA LTD.
Creature Feature – the Calgary Zoo 13
Taking Down the Fences – A.I.W.C. 15
Cover Artist
Wendy Palmer Novel Suggestions – readers contribute book reviews 18
Wendy Palmer has
always been intrigued
with animals and their
The Wild File – Canadian Parks and Wilderness 23
funny and distinctive
personalities. Her love The Gardening Bug – the Calgary Horticultural Society 27
for all creatures is
reflected in the unique
realism of her wildlife The Final Word – in the shadow of skyscrapers 30
paintings. A passion for
detail and focus on
expression brings life to
the canvas and breath to her subject. “When the
eyes begin to come to life the excitement to
Departments
finish the painting erupts”.
Wendy is Alberta born and presently resides on
Publisher’s Note 5
an acreage with her husband Keith, and sons,
Brendan and Richard. She manages to weave a
prolific amount of painting in amongst hockey
Letters 7
games, golf, skiing, and just being a mom.
www.rosehipgallery.com (403)701-9443 In Passing 19
page3
 Kestrel Ridge Farm Ltd
An ideal location for your next
corporate, family or equestrian
event. Camping, picnic, BBQ, and
inside meeting facilities available
by the hour or day. Boarding,
Lessons and Clinics available –
a World Class equestrian
and event facility haul ins welcome.

a stones throw from Calgary on the Elbow River in beautiful Springbank.

For more information please contact:

Leslie Jalkotzy, General Manager 403-242-9110 lesliej@KestrelRidgeFarm.com

page4

Time is short and the water rises.
It seemed like a good idea at the
time. Traditional wisdom dictates;
combine what you know with what
you love, persevere long enough and
everything will fall into place.
Well, I know graphic arts and
journalism; I have been employed in
the field for over 30 years, and I’ve
loved animals all of my life. Ergo, the
birth of creaturesall!
Since the first issue hit the stands
we have enjoyed a 100% pick-up
rate, with every magazine scooped
up. Even with stands restocked up to
twice weekly, we constantly receive
emails from readers wanting to know
if they can get a copy mailed to them
because they are no where to be
found. One of the Charter schools in
Calgary is even using creaturesall in
their curriculum.
Readers love creaturesall, and
for that we are thankful. In truth, the
kudos belong to our contributors.
We are daily in receipt of story upon
story, offered up freely by readers
who want nothing more than to share
their experiences with the rest of us.
This eclectic mix stirred up and
served as creaturesall is a tribute to
those who have unselfishly chosen to
‘read, then write.’
Our cover artists are unparalleled.
Wendy Palmer is this issue’s guest
artist and nothing can be added to
enlarge upon what is so very obvious
when you view her work. Superb and
from the heart.
It is the quality of our cover
artists, contributors and columnists
which makes it next to impossible to
toss a copy of creaturesall in the
trash, once read. We regularly hear
Advertiser and Story Submission Deadline
for Next Issue – January 6th/06
PUBLISHER’S Bow wow
NOTE
from readers collecting creaturesall
and from others who have taken our
dictum of ‘guerrilla marketing’ to
heart and insist on passing their copy
on to someone else when they have
finished with it.
There is, however, one critical
missing ingredient in the mix;
advertising sales. Advertising is the
WOW!
Here's how you can
backbone of any magazine and even improve your dog's
more in the case of a free magazine.
behavior and help
Where better to advertise your
them become the
services than in a magazine with a 2
month active shelf life? A magazine family member you've
sought after and scooped up by always wanted
10,000 families and available at over Our innovative, dog friendly
170 outlets in and around Calgary, a methods are based on the
city of almost one million people. way dogs communicate with
creaturesall readers buy shoes, cars, each other. We come to you
clothes and any of hundreds of other and work with your dog in
commodities. Retailers typically its own home, customizing
scramble to be associated with the the solution to your
buying power represented within that situation, your dog's needs
demographic. and temperament.
What is needed is time. Time to
lay the groundwork and to build on it. Bark Busters provides a
Specifically, creaturesall needs to Written Lifetime Guarantee.
find an individual or group who
believes as strongly as do I in what we Visit www.barkbusters.com
are trying to do here and to express a and try our free behavior
willingness to participate and assist in rating quiz to see how your
seeing we reach our next milestone. dog measures up..
K BUS T
In the absence of such a partner,
difficult decisions will have to be
made regarding our future. Never has
the time been more right for someone
B AR
ER
to step forward and declare their
desire to share in this vision. If
S
you can be a part of the solution,
I’d love to hear from you.
(publisher@creaturesall.ca)
Bob & Linda Fielder
246-1844
page5
 . the very best
in care for you
and your pets.

Debra Howe is an Animal Health Technologist with

several years experience in clinical pet care. She is a graduate
of both the Animal Health Technology and Fish & Wildlife Programs.

Phone: (403)569-9474 • Cellular: (403)807-3702 • Fax: (403)204-7593

Email: owner@dhpetcare.com www.dhpetcare.com

GRAPHIC DESIGN
• LOGO DESIGN
• COPYWRITING
• BROCHURES
• PAMPHLETS
2006
MandaLeaf
• POSTERS
Calendar
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SOON!

D E S I G N • ADVERTISEMENTS
• WEBSITE DESIGN
graphic design
& ‘things made with leaves’
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We are a small
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page6

paw prints and pen scratches
I found your magazine at
Safeway last night. I think you are
on to something great here.
My two cats, both 16 years old,
died within two weeks of each
other. I looked for an affordable,
dignified way of burying or
cremating them. The vet would have
given them to the body snatchers to
be incinerated. Well, I cremated
them myself. For many of us, a
beloved pet is like a child and when
they die I wish we could afford
them similar treatment.
Kathie Bondar
Firstly, I would like to say how
very happy I was to find the first
edition of creaturesall at my library.
I love the philosophy of your
magazine - simply “showing
concern” for our fellow creatures -
instead of being involved in any
kind of movement or agenda. I
enjoyed the articles and the
advertising included in the
magazine.
MaryJane Danyluk, BA
I have read your last issue of
creaturesall with my husband and
our children. We enjoyed it
immensely. Thank you for sharing
your love for all creatures in this
beautiful publication. I will keep
reading...then write.
Lynn Lederhos
I thoroughly enjoyed issue 01
and 02 of creaturesall. I'm an
extreme animal lover and also have
two cats, Punkin and Angus.
The Final Word column,” The
Weeping Camel”, and “Oh, for the
Love of....” in issue 01 really
touched my heart and brought a
tear to my eye. They are wonderful
stories.
Corinne Stehr
LETTERS
FERRET RESCUE &
EDUCATION SOCIETY
FERRET RESCUE &
To the A.I.W.C. and the volunteers EDUCATION SOCIETY
at Wabamun Lake: Adopt, Foster,
I read about your hard work in Surrender or
creaturesall magazine and wanted to Become a Member
send heartfelt thanks to all of you.
We may be far away but we still
Call 567-FRES (3737)
riching lives o f f e r rets"
appreciate your care and concern "en
for the wildlife in and around the www.ferrets.ca
lake. We admire your dedication!
King-Hopes
We would first like to say
THANK YOU for such a great
publication. We have read the #2
edition from cover to cover and
enjoyed every article immensely. I
could really relate to the wasp
story as I had a similar experience
with a wasp nest on the ground,
except that in my story I was
moving cattle through trees and
brush and a cow stepped on the
wasp nest. Keep up the great
work. We will definitely pick up
the December issue.
Lynda and John Kerekes
I have become an enthusiastic
fan of your wonderful publication
and encourage all I know to read
and enjoy!! I especially enjoyed the
beautiful picture of the bear which
seems to almost jump out from the
page. The poem “Natural Selection”
was an exceptional piece, obviously
penned by an animal lover.
D. Rempel
We picked up your wonderful
magazine, read it all in one evening
and now are waiting for the next
issue; and this one has been on the
stands only 4 days! Looking forward
to the next issue!
E. Taylor
Letters to the editor should be emailed
to editor@creaturesall.ca. with “Letter
to the Editor” as the subject line.
page7
by Manny D’Amico

he very first time I laid eyes on Sadie, my American world and always seems to enjoy life wherever she goes.

T pitbull terrier, is a moment that will remain with me

always.
I picked her up and instantly felt an overwhelming
That brings me some comfort, knowing she does not have
to endure the scorn that we human companions sometimes
do. Her love is unconditional and inspires me each day.
adoration for this tiny creature cradled up by my face. I Being the owner of a pitbull can sometimes seem
remember thinking that she was going to be the greatest unfair. We are not always treated the same as other pet
love of my life and time has proved just that. owners; often excluded from events that involve pets for
As Sadie grew and began chewing through every last the fear of the public’s reaction. This breed of dog is not for
object that she could get into her mouth, I quickly realized everyone. We who have chosen pitbull companions have to
that she was a stubborn, tough dog and she would require develop a thick skin and be aware of the prejudice that
much training and significant patience on my part. I began comes with owning one of these dogs.
slowly by taking her to obedience classes and practicing at
home what we learned there daily. Socialization
played a key role in her schooling and I am a firm
believer that it was that early socialization that played
a significant part in making her the wonderful
companion dog she is today. She has even donated her
blood to the canine blood bank.
Sadie is now five years old and is an exceptional
companion and friend. However, I must admit it can
be heartbreaking to walk down the street and see
people gawking; making me feel I should be
embarrassed or ashamed for having a pitbull as a
beloved friend. Thankfully, Sadie is oblivious to the
fact that she is seen as an
outcast by much of the

Being the
owner of a
pitbull
can sometimes
seem unfair.
page8
ALTERED BEGINNINGS
ALTERED
ENDINGS
Not all pitbulls are as fortunate as
Sadie and many do not always have
the best life. Diablo was dropped off
as a found stray at a veterinary clinic
in May of 2005 with a large gash above
his eye and multiple scars on his face.
He was terrified. Whenever someone
approached he would run away. He
cowered in fear under the reception
desk at the clinic, until one day
Brandy, a member of the clinic staff,
decided to take him home.
Information was given to the city and
the local SPCA in case his owner
might come to claim him.
Diablo was eventually claimed.
After a few days the owner contacted
Brandy and advised her that he
wanted her to look after him for a
week, as he had no place for Diablo
for the time being. She happily
agreed, but knew, deep down inside,
he would never be back. She asked
him about Diablo’s history and it was
brought to her attention that, in his
first home, Diablo was often left in his
yard with a much larger pitbull that
would trash him around, causing many
of his scars and the laceration above
his eye. Diablo was then subsequently
moved to another home, but the first
chance he got, he ran away. That’s
how he came to end up at Brandy’s
clinic in the first place. As she had
anticipated, Brandy never heard from
Diablo’s owner again.
She and her family were happy to
have the chance to raise him and give
him a better life. Unfortunately
Diablo’s problems were deeply rooted
as a result of those early life
experiences locked in the yard with
the larger aggressive dog. He had
spent his all too few years fighting for
his life and did not know how to let his
guard down.
Brandy and her family tried
desperately to help, consulting a
behaviorist, even trying a pet
communicator as a last resort, not
knowing what else to do. Nothing
seemed to work and Diablo was now
full of aggression towards all dogs.
Even more tragic, he began acting
aggressively towards people.
One night Brandy called me in a
panic and told me that Diablo had
attacked one of her other dogs at
home. She rushed both dogs to the
emergency veterinary clinic and, after
a short stay, fortunately learned both
dogs were okay... the other dog
however, being more badly injured
than Diablo.
Brandy and her family finally had
to make the heart wrenching decision
to have Diablo euthanized. I spoke to
her moments before the sad event was
to unfold and the sorrow in her voice
was all too evident. She was on the
verge of being incapable of speech, she
was so heartbroken. This wonderful,
caring lady and her family, who had
done everything they knew to give
Diablo another chance at life, were
grief stricken that the only way they
could help was to say goodbye.
I, too, was saddened by all that
had transpired. Looking at my own
dog laying on the couch, I reflected
page9
how another was laying on a cold steel
table awaiting death. I wondered if he
knew what was about to happen to
him and if he could talk to us, what
would he say. I tried to put myself in
Brandy’s shoes and imagined being the
one who had to make the heart
breaking decision to end my best
friend’s life... of having to kiss his face
one last time as the needle was
injected which would forever end his
world. I felt saddened that all dogs
couldn’t have a life like my Sadie’s; a
life full of walks, lying on the couch,
playing and ending the day with a belly
rub. It seemed so unfair to me that
they all couldn’t have the very best life
had to offer.
Diablo’s story still lingers with all
of us fellow pitbull rescuers, keeping his
plight in mind with each and every dog
that we save and re-home. His urn sits
on a mantel now as a reminder of the
life that was handed to him and of the
tragic circumstances that, ultimately,
were to take it from him. I have seen
abused, abandoned and mutilated
pitbulls that, once rescued and
nurtured, lead wonderful lives. These
dogs have been through things far
worse than most people could ever
imagine and yet they still continue to be
ambassadors of love, loyalty and
companionship. Sometimes it feels as if
they have rescued us. ca
For further information contact: Manny:
mannydamico@hotmail.com
For a pitbull rescue in Calgary go to:
www.pitbullsforlife.com
 :15 a.m.: I awoke in a cold sweat
7 to the sound of the alarm clock.
For a moment I lay there
confused— what was causing these
feelings of apprehension? Then it hit
me. Today was the day. Today I was
going to confront my arch-enemy and
greatest fear. My brain raced for
excuses to cancel. I could say I was
sick, or had a family emergency. Or
I could tell the shameful truth –
that I was afraid. I steeled myself
for the confrontation. I had never
backed down from a challenge
before, and I wasn’t about to
start.
:50 a.m.: I had arrived.
8 I was about to
beard the beast
in her lair. Other
victims stood
around chatting,
seeming ly
unaware of the
imminent peril.
Then we were all
herded together
like sheep, and
entered… the room.
We were seated in a circle
around the table. “She” sat in
the centre, calmly surveying us.
Her minions approached us one by
one, and instructed us to extend our
hands. When my turn finally arrived, I
was quaking inside. I felt sick to my
stomach and was sure that she would
sense my fear and strike. I closed my
YOIKS!!
eyes and held out my hands. I felt a warm,
gentle pressure on my palms. I
opened my eyes and saw… eight of
the most beautiful eyes I have ever
seen. My fear evaporated and I
knew that from then on, I would
fear her no more.
This little drama was enacted
during my time as a volunteer
docent at the zoo. One of the
things we were fortunate enough
to do was interact with some of the animals. I enjoyed the
rabbit, the owls, the porcupine and the snake, but the day
we were to handle the spider was a black day unlike any
other I had yet faced. I had feared all spiders, even the
harmless and cartoonish daddy longlegs, since childhood. I
would have even gone so far as to describe myself as
page10
‘arachnophobic’. I was that afraid. It didn’t matter that I
knew spiders wouldn’t do me any harm. It didn’t even mat-
ter that I knew they had no interest in doing me any harm!
My fear was irrational and unfounded... and real. One of
the goals I hoped to accomplish during my time at the zoo
was to overcome this fear. This was how I found myself
sitting at a table holding a Mexican red kneed tarantula in
my hands.
As I held her, I marvelled at how soft she was. Her
small body was covered with a fine fur, and was very warm.
She settled down comfortably into the palms of my hands,
content to share her space and interact with me. She didn’t
care that we had interrupted her morning and were
handing her around the table. If such a creature could be
so tolerant of me, I reasoned, perhaps I could do the same
for she and her kin.
Since that day I have paid special attention to the
spiders I have encountered. It is amazing to me that
their relatively small brains can coordinate eight legs
while I frequently trip over my two. They are
incredible artists that create beautiful geometric
designs with their webs, while I can hardly draw
a straight line. They are athletes who can leap
several times their own body length, while I
get winded running for the bus. They also do
us an immense service by catching
thousands of insects, including those that
would destroy our crops or carry
infectious disease.
I have learned that spiders are not to
be feared. They are our friends and our
neighbours. They want nothing more than
to be left in peace to go about their
business. The next time you encounter
one of our eight-legged allies, consider the
complexity and the beauty this diminutive
creature embodies. They deserve more
than fear and prejudice from us, and I hope
that you will be inspired to give spiders
another look. ca
Dr. Spiderlove or: How I
Learned to Stop Worrying
and Love Arachnids. by Sandi Fielder

“ just saw a
Iguy throw
a kitten
out of the window of his truck!
What should I do?” came the frantic
phone call from a client.
W o w — I
never knew peo-
ple could be so
cruel!
The client
was on her cell
phone and was
giving us a play-
by-play of how
she had pulled
over on the busy
Deerfoot Trail,
exited her vehi-
cle and gingerly
swooped up the
kitten.
“He was crouching with his eyes
closed and leaning up against the
concrete meridian” she exclaimed,
“Rocks were hitting him as cars
drove by.”
I was so relieved that this
compassionate client did not get
hurt while rescuing the traumatized
little kitten. She immediately
brought him to the clinic and we
started to work with him. The little
guy was clearly terrorized and was
limping on his hind left leg. We gave
him pain control and anti-inflamma-
tory medications and warmed him
up in an incubator. He purred like a
motor as we washed out his eyes
and re-hydrated him with
subcutaneous fluids, following with
a thorough cleansing of the multiple
scratches and scrapes on his tiny
body. Before long the skinny little
guy was calm and began sampling
the food we had placed in front of
him. Even with his foot dangling at
an odd angle, he was able to hobble
around the blanketed interior of the
WAGGING TALES
stories from a veterinarian’s clinic
incubator. Blood tests revealed his
organ health to be close to perfect,
although X-rays showed strained
ligaments of his hind left ankle area.
Fortunately, there were no broken
bones.
It truly
was a mir-
acle that
he wasn’t
hurt an
awful lot
worse! It
was my
opinion
that the little kitten was certain
to have severe internal injuries
or broken bones. To this day
It still terrifies me to think
of the sheer horror he must
have felt as cars sped by,
while he lay inches from
Deerfoot Trail!
With no form of identification,
no microchip, no ear tattoo,
no collar, I focused on the possibili-
ty that the kitten may have
inadvertently fallen out of the
truck window, unbeknownst to
the driver. I did not want to
consider the possibility that
someone might toss out a helpless
page11
by Dr. Julie Schell BSc(Hons), DVM
animal, sure to be run over by a
passing vehicle.
Thus, I phoned the Calgary
Humane Society and asked them to
collect the kitten with the hope that
they may have been able to locate its
owner. Due to the kitten’s need for
intense hospitalization, it was
decided I should keep him at my
hospital while they searched for his
owner.
Tamara, a kind Animal Health
Technologist student at our clinic,
instantly fell in love with the little
kitten and named him ‘Kai’. After
the 7 day waiting period, and since
the owners were unable to be
located, Tamara joyfully volunteered
to adopt him.
As ‘Kai’ grew, we monitored his
leg and ensured that he was able to
ambulate well. I was so pleased to
hear her response when I asked
Tamara, “So, is Kai able to use his
scratching post yet?”.
She replied, “Not only is he
using his scratching post, but he
leaps onto beds, runs up and down
stairs, jumps from the ground to
every table and counter in the house
and he chases my
dog everywhere!
His injured leg
hasn’t slowed him
down one second! I
should have named
him Dennis the
Menace!” Happily,
Kai’s leg healed
amazingly quickly!
It was wonderful to see that
Tamara and Kai had so totally
bonded to one another. And it was
equally wonderful to witness such a
happy outcome to what could have
been a tragic story! I am blessed to
have so many caring clients and
colleagues who respect and love
animals as much as I do! ca
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The touch of love for your animal friend Wildlife & Habitat Conservation through Rehabilitation, Education & Research

page12

o, this isn’t about knitting or
N
adorable
sewing, Pins and Needles
are the names of two
creatures that are
ambassador animals for the Calgary
Zoo. They are a mother and daugh-
ter pair of North American porcu-
pines. And yes, porcupines are
adorable!
Needles, the mother came to us
on August 7, 1999. In April of that
year, a family, heading out for a camp-
ing weekend, swerved to avoid a
dead porcupine on the country
road they were travelling. On
their return along that same
road at the end of the weekend,
they noticed the dead porcu-
pine was still there. The family
decided to move it
onto the median so other vehi-
cles would not have to
dodge around it,
as they had.
Upon lift-
ing up the
porcupine,
they were
astonished
to find a
baby porcu-
pine, under-
neath its dead
mother trying to suckle.
They determined to take the baby
home with the intent of trying to save
her life.
The baby porcupine, now named
Needles, thrived on baby formula and
quickly grew into a rambunctious
little creature that played with the
family dogs. As nature would have it,
she soon became too big for the
family to keep in either their home or
their garden, especially as dogs and
porcupines generally do not fare well
together.
After contacting the Calgary Zoo,
the family discovered there was a
CREATURE FEATURE
rare space available for a porcupine.
Needles, was brought to the Animal
Health Centre where she remained in
quarantine for thirty days. The origi-
nal intent was that, when she was
fully grown, she could probably be
released back into the wild.
However, once her quarantine
was complete it was decided that
because of her friendly nature, espe-
cially with dogs and people, it would
not be a good idea to release her. Her
youthful socialization with both people
and dogs led her to become an ambas-
sador animal at the Calgary Zoo.
In the fall and winter of 2003, the
zookeeper looking after Needles,
Brent van Hooft, noticed a wild male
porcupine around the porcupine
habitat. He thought nothing about it
because he was sure the porcupine
could not get into the area with
Needles. But, as the saying goes,
“love will find a way”, and on May 24,
2004, when Brent went into the
page13
on pins and needles
by Kathleen Hewitt
enclosure for Needle’s morning
feeding and check-up, there snuggled
alongside her mother, lay a little
bundle of Pins. In the early hours of
the morning Needles had given birth
to a daughter.
Now, Needles, Pins and Kakwa
(another rescued female porcupine)
are taken out onto Zoo grounds and
into the classrooms where children
and adults get to meet them.
These people also learn that,
despite persistent public
opinion, porcupines can
not shoot their quills. In
fact, porcupine quills are
held very loosely in the
skin and if an animal,
even gently brushes
against the quills, they
come out easily.
Porcupines instinctively
present their rear end if
being chased, which is
where most of the longer
quills are located. So if a dog
or other pursuer rushes head-
long into the undergrowth to
investigate a porcupine, you can
almost guarantee it will retreat just as
quickly with a snout full of quills.
These gentle, nocturnal animals
are very slow moving. Despite that,
their only predators are bobcats,
cougars, coyotes and wolves, who
nature has taught to avoid the
porcupine’s quills by flipping them over
to expose their unprotected underbelly.
Of course, as is so often the case
in nature, their deadliest enemy can
be man, whose vehicles take a toll on
these gentle creatures. They often
venture onto roadways at night to lick
salt, spread (also by man) to help
with deicing. So please, drive
carefully and watch out for
porcupines when they are out and
about at night looking for food and
doing whatever porcupines do. ca
page14

IWC cares for nearly 2000
A injured or orphaned wild
animals annually, generally
between May and September. With
so many animals, it’s hard to tell one
year’s busy season
from another’s.
Luckily, each
year has its
highlights,
and 2005
has been
AIWC’s
“Year of the
Deer”! To
date, we have
provided care for
21 deer, up four-fold from
previous years. Trauma from
vehicular collisions is the primary
injury we see to these fawns or their
mothers. AIWC’s education campaign
to inform the public about natural
fawn rearing practices has
successfully reduced “fawn-nappings”.
Although we generally do not
name animals in our care, 11 fawns
were named in order to enable us to
monitor individual progress while
housing them together in our outdoor
fawn corral, allowing them
to socialize without becoming
habituated to humans. Here is the
story of just one of these fawns.
Late one night in early
September, a storm was brewing and
there came a knock at our door.
Windswept in the rain, stood a
rugged man. “Do you want a fawn?”
he asked in a deep, no-nonsense
Crocodile Dundee accent. The fawn
was described as a tiny newborn that
had been hit by a car.
While we ran to grab blankets,
the man disappeared momentarily
and returned with a kicking and
moaning 70 pound fawn slung effort-
lessly over his shoulders. “Where do
ya want her?” he asked. As we
TAKING DOWN THE FENCES
A 21 Fawn Salute: AIWC’s Year of the Deer
by Robyn Roper
quickly made a padded room for her Now, the fawns have almost all
we determined she was an older
white-tailed fawn with fading spots.
The tip of her ear was torn, her eye
been released. We have much more
time on our hands, and yet we miss
the chaos. Each is unique and it was
was swollen shut and her knees (car- a privilege to be a small part of what
pus joints) were bruised and hopefully is just the beginning of their
scraped. She couldn’t life’s story. But then, just as we are
stand and her neck coping with our empty nest
twisted sinuously to syndrome, what should occur but one
one side while her of life’s little mysteries… in mid-
eyes twitched rhyth- October a newborn white-tail fawn is
mically back and left orphaned when her mother is hit
forth. Upon further by a car. Now Rosie will spend her
consultation with our winter with us. ca
vet, we began treat-
ment and learned the AIWC hopes this article will encourage
next morning she could readers not to be alarmed if they
stand, albeit with great diffi- encounter a newborn fawn alone and to
culty, while the head trauma caused slow down and pay close attention for
her to stumble. Her improvement was wildlife when driving through the
extremely slow but eventually became country or city green spaces, especially
steady. at dawn and dusk when collisions are
Due to her gorgeous red fur and most frequent. If you find an injured or
the priceless looks of curiosity she orphaned animal, do not hesitate to
aimed our way, with her head cocked contact AIWC for assistance.
to one side as if to say, “Have you
brought my favorite - fresh willow
branches?”, she was named Lucille,
after Lucille Ball.
After three weeks indoors spent
circling and regaining her balance,
Lucille joined the fawns in the outdoor
corral. In the fresh outdoors, her
improvement skyrocketed and she
was soon ready for release. So
quick and agile was she at the end
of her stay, we were unable to catch
her for transport to the same release
location as the other fawns. Instead,
we opened the gate to the corral
one evening after seeing a
herd of white-tails near-
by and let her join
them when she felt
like it. Lucille and
her new gang
can still be seen
frequenting AIWC’s
property.
page15

here are many extraordinary stories about horses
T and humans finding one another in fantastic
circumstances. I never dreamed that I would ever be
at the centre of one such amazing account.
I started my own remedial training centre a few years
ago. Based on horse psychology and behaviour, the non-
traditional technique I use for instruction seeks to educate
humans on how horses communicate. I endeavor to explain
their often misinterpreted behaviour to humans. This
journey has allowed me to share my program, which
consists of learning life-skills through the way of the horse.
I learned early on that I would need an equine partner
to help me grow and further develop my theories. Nikita
came along quite unexpectedly and fit the bill perfectly.
Her gentle ability to teach and her great sensitivity allowed
me to learn rapidly and perfect my non-traditional
methods. She helped me establish some important
fundamentals in honouring a relationship with a horse and
pushed me to believe in myself, the knowledge I have and
the journey I am on. She showed tremendous patience with
me and my uncertainties, for which I will forever be
grateful.
Nikita and I became close friends and she is the model
for my relationship riding logo. With her help, I was able
to convince many horse owners that there is far more to
horses than what they have learned up until now. Sadly,
Nikita died tragically while giving birth on May 16 of this
year. The image of her flat on her stomach, hind limbs in a
frog-legged position, only able to push her foal half way out
before he succumbed, stays in my mind to this day.
Right there and then, I decided to shut down my
business and to stop working with horses. The thought of
continuing without Nikita was simply unbearable.
Suddenly, I felt I no longer had anything to teach. My mind
went blank from the moment my “teacher” lay dead on the
ground, taking with her everything I knew about horses.
But the thought of quitting didn’t linger long, as a
strong and compelling voice interrupted my grieving, telling
me, “Are you going to quit after all I have taught you?
People need to know and you need to tell them.”
I know, without a doubt, that that voice belonged to
Nikita. She was right, I had a job to do, a purpose in life,
and I had to go on, even without her.
So the journey to find another equine friend started. I
knew of lots of horses, all of them very special and unique
in their own way, but I had a feeling that they were not
page16
S T O R Y
by Barbra-Ann Lachance, EBW
meant for this job and certainly not up to replacing Nikita.
They either didn’t pass their veterinarian pre-purchase
examination, were no longer for sale, or someone beat me
to them. Those that did show potential were always
unavailable. I decided to pack it in... my next horse would
just have to find me. The universe knew what I was trying
to accomplish with horses and humans and I trusted the
universe to send me my perfect equine partner.
Meanwhile, I had horses to train, lessons to teach, a
business to run.
Angelica came into my life three years ago, long before
Nikita, when I was searching for the perfect horse to help
in the establishment of my equine business. She was going
on two at the time and had a loving personality. I was doing
quite a bit of work where she was kept so we got to know
each other pretty well. I think our favourite moment in a
day was when I sat on the fence, just admiring Angi and her
pasture mates. She would come up to me for some
snuggles, stretching out her neck and sniffing my face. I
would rest my head right on hers and we would often let
out a sigh of contentment. For me, happiness meant spend-
ing a quiet moment with Angi, where neither one of us
expected or demanded anything from the another. That is
what I call true friendship.
It took me a while to realize at that time that she had
all the qualities I was looking for in a “spokes-horse”, even
though she was very young. As a result of my
procrastination, when I finally did make an offer to buy
her, she was already spoken for. I gave up on owning her
but luckily ended up with my fabulous mare Nikita instead.
Now, several years later, with Nikita gone, I got the
phone call on a Sunday evening. The lady who now owned
Angelica wondered if I might be able to find good homes
for some of her horses. She knew I was familiar with
Aztecas because I owned one that was becoming quite
popular; even being featured on the front page of
newspapers! What she didn’t know was that I had tried to
track her down when Nikita died to see if she would
consider selling me Angelica. After all this time had passed,
I learned she had kept my business card and, having
contacted me, was happy to know that I would not only be
able to help find homes for two of her Aztecas, but that I
wanted one for myself!
I flipped through every possible card in my emotional
Rolodex on my way to see Angelica again after all these
years. I was both excited and frightened. I was imagining a
future with her, even now, before I had placed my offer. But
I was all too aware of the obstacles that might get in the
way of owning her. I relived our earlier memories of cud-
dles on the fence, not knowing if she would still be the
horse I knew many years ago. It’s a good thing I wasn’t
driving the car, my mind was all over the place!
Angelica was just as beautiful and sweet as when I had
seen her last. She was all grown up now, but there was a
mischievous, playful look in her eyes. I slowly approached
her and let her smell my hand, clothes, face and hair. She
seemed to be searching the memories, trying to recall
where she had encountered this human before. Her mane
was long and dark, her body a greying dun color. Suddenly,
nothing and no one else mattered; it was just her and I,
enjoying a very special moment, rediscovering each other.
After establishing a few ground rules, Angelica proved
to have the qualities I was looking for in an equine partner.
Confidently, I rode her in a treeless saddle with only a
halter and she was a perfect dream. I knew she had bucked
off her trainer in the past and she could be challenging
given the right circumstances, so I was careful about my
demands and made sure I stayed respectful and realistic
about our new found friendship. After I dismounted,
her owner told me Angi hadn’t been ridden in over
a year! That wonderful horse showed me that she
was willing to trust me. I was going to do the same.
I became very excited, imagining owning Angelica
and again started dreaming what our future together
could look like. I was still grieving Nikita and wasn’t
sure it was the right time to get involved in another
relationship with a horse. I was up for a long time
that night, thinking everything over and shocked by
something my husband confessed. He had always
of a school’s headmaster. Rarely did I find her to be
playful. Angelica, on the other hand, can’t keep things
serious for too long. She’s always finding ways to make me
laugh through her curiosity and spontaneity. She is also
teaching me a lot regarding horse/human relationships, as
well as human/human relationships.
Angelica and I are presently getting to know each
other. Through ground work, riding and play, we are
establishing a strong relationship based on love, trust,
respect and harmony. I see a lot of her mother’s qualities
in her, but she is very much her own horse.
Angelica will be an assistant-facilitator and will be used
for demonstrations and clinics, taking over from her Mom.
I really look forward to all the great adventures that await
us. Suddenly, I have a huge smile on my face and
excitement in my eyes. This adorable Spanish mare has
given me back my wings to fly and together, we will soar
the skies, encouraging others to do the same. ca
You are all welcome to visit.
Contact us at:
relationshipriding@telus.net or
visit:
www.relationshipriding.com
ho

p
been a quiet bystander in my business, drying my t o
co
ur
tears during my battles to save equines, encourag- t

es
ing my crazy dreams. But this time, he set aside his

y:
Jo
hn
very manly ego and admitted to something which

W
.H
heretofore had been totally out of his belief system.

all
While I was getting Angelica saddled up, he had
held on to her lead rope. At that very moment, she
put her velvety nose on his chest and he heard her
voice, loud and clear, asking him to convince me
to take her home! When he admitted this to
me, I knew without a doubt that she was right
for me.
I strongly believe that when things are
meant to be, everything happens as it
should. The following day, I had an email
message from Angelica’s owner saying they
accepted my offer and that she was mine!
I intentionally left out the best part of this
story: Angelica is Nikita’s daughter! The physical
resemblances to her mother are striking, but as I am
finding out, her temperament and personality are quite
different. Nikita had a serious temperament, reminding me

page17

Mooseltoe
by Margie Palatini,
illust. by Henry Cole
Hyperion Books for Children
32 pp., ISBN 0-786-80567-6
hard cover.
reviewed by Susan Hooper
As you and your family gather around the fire this
Christmas Eve, prepare some frothy hot chocolate and
read aloud “Mooseltoe”. This charming verse story, told in
a singsong rhythm, stars a moose who, with checklist in hoof
and ho ho ho’s on his mind, sets out to make sure everything
is “perfectly perfect” in preparation for the season.
He’s shopped till he dropped. ✔
He’s baked tons of tins of cookies. ✔ ✔
Yes, so easy and, but of course, so “perfectly perfect”.
But, comes Christmas Eve and Moose discovers a terrible
‘moosetake’ has been made. One item on his oh so
“perfectly perfect” list has gone unchecked. Perhaps the
most important item of all!
“Pop! What happened?” cried Junior. “You forgot the
tree!”
The crayon illustrations by Henry Cole make much of
Moose's endless handlebar “moostache” and, as we learn
Moose’s surprising solution to what might have been an
unperfectly perfect Christmas, his ingenious moostache
machinations will draw children into the story and cause
even the most cynical to smile.
This is a fun to read book, and one which children will
treasure as a true holiday tradition.
The Parrot’s Lament
by Eugene Lindon,
illust. by Boris Kulikov
A Dutton Book
190 pp., ISBN 0-525-94476-1
hard cover.
reviewed by Alex Upton
Do animals think? In spite of decades of research, sci-
entists have as yet to agree on the answer. In The Parrot's
Lament, Eugene Linden turns the question right around and
wonders aloud; “What might animals reveal about them-
selves and their intelligence through the way they interact
with both humans and the creatures around them?”
page18
NOVEL SUGGESTIONS
readers contribute their book reviews
send your review to editor@creaturesall.ca
Anecdotes of animal humor, game playing, trade and
barter, conflict resolution, scheming, and empathy, as well
as tales of escape, heroism, and deception have all been
unearthed through Linden’s research talking to zookeep-
ers, researchers, therapists, and trainers.
An orphaned leopard, Harriet, hand-raised in India
before later being returned to the wild, must rely on her
memory and the bonds of human trust cast many years ear-
lier when flooding river waters imperil her and her young
cubs. Orky, a killer whale, seemingly makes the conscious
decision to try to alert his human handlers to the grave con-
dition of his, as yet unborn, baby. Through the ways in
which animals react and interact with we humans they
show us, if we pay proper attention, something of who they
are. We can learn something about ourselves, as well.
Cats Are Smarter Than Jack
Compiled by Jenny Campbell
illust. by Boris Kulikov
Avacodo Press 2005
160 pp., ISBN 0-958-25716-7
soft cover.
reviewed by Patricia Grant
From the beautiful black cat on the front cover, to the
very last ‘Smarter than Jack’ story in the back, this is a fun
book for cat lovers everywhere; a great Christmas idea that
will leave you ‘feline fine’.
All 89 stories are contributed by real people and are
about real cats that have touched their lives; cats that
entertain, enlighten and, in some cases, save lives and sanity.
There is a cat who helps plant the garden, and another
who intimidates a Great Dane... talk about attitude!
Tinkerbell brought a small measure of peace to a child
in an orphanage and Minou plays piano. Fats dances and
Squeaky is a scientist who studies H2O. Toi-Toi catches eels
and Minja goes grocery shopping.
Part of the Smarter Than Jack series by Avacodo
Press, “Cats Are Smarter Than Jack”, gives an insight into
these wonderfully delightful creatures who agree to accept
us as friends, if not equals.
A portion of the proceeds from sales of the Smarter
Than Jack series supports animal rescue organizations
around the globe, including the Alberta SPCA and the
Calgary Humane Society. Available in bookstores and your
local animal shelter. ca
 IN PASSING
celebrating the lives of animal friends

Ceilidh Nikita

Ceilidh was a rescue Westie. She Nikita,

was a small girl, very quiet and shy,
who came into our lives in the summer
my dearest friend.
of 2002. She had no tattoo and no
microchip. When we contacted Westie
Rescue to try and place the little dog, Although you no longer canter
they asked us if we could provide tem- on the earth's surface, you will
porary shelter. We readily agreed. always, always, be with me in spirit.
Her health was not good. Our veterinarian suspected
that she might have diabetes insipidus, her teeth were in I was blessed to have known you,
poor condition and she limped noticeably on her left rear
leg. He estimated her age to be around 11 years.
We loved her on sight and couldn't put her out for to have been your student.
adoption through Westie Rescue. Our group, two young
Westies and a Rough Collie accepted her immediately.
Your wise teachings helped me learn and grow
Although shy at first, Ceilidh settled in very quickly and had
an enjoyable summer with an “official” Westie grooming!
In September Ceilidh took part in the Third Annual in ways that would not have been possible
Westie Walk in Confederation Park. None of the local kennel
owners recognized her. Over the next few months her teeth
through traditional methods.
were fixed and the diabetes insipidus became manageable.
She seemed to be a happy little dog. Our Collie really seemed
to enjoy having the three Westies to watch over. I will honor your passage on this earth
In the spring of 2004 Ceilidh's general health started
to deteriorate. Our vet worked on her problems, but she
became progressively weaker and early in April she was in by passing along what you taught me
great distress with her breathing and to everyone's
extreme sadness went to the Rainbow Bridge early on a and continuing my journey
sunny morning.
Although we only had her a short time, our family
experienced a terrible loss. We loved that little girl. She “through the way of the horse”.
had two great summers with us. We wish that she could
have been with us longer. Forever, you have left hoof prints on my heart.
Passed Away on: 4/3/04

Curtains Forever I will honor you.

Curtains the cat was a bit dopey, as
cats go. He tended to drool too much and
really never mastered the grooming Thank you for the gift.
thing. He spent the first 15 years of his life
Passed Away on: 5/16/05
cowering under furniture and bed linens
and his last six, as an adventurer. Now,
some three years since he’s been gone,
we still miss him. He had a long and good Send your tributes commemorating the departure of an
life and we are all better people for having animal friend to editor@creaturesall.ca with In Passing as the
had him share it with us. There never was a better cat. subject line. Not all material received will necessarily be
printed and is subject to editing. Include ‘Passed Away on:
Passed Away on: 6/24/02 date’. and a 300 dpi photo should you choose to include one.

page19
 A
WOLF

I
PUP NAMED MOAB
by Pam Clark

t was a sunny July day, 2004, when my family embarked upon a

daytrip from Invermere, B.C. Our destination was Golden and the
Northern Lights Wolf Wildlife Centre. Friends of ours from
Newfoundland had visited the centre in June and had enchanted us
with stories of an infant wolf cub named Moab.
My two young daughters, Hanna and Emily, listened to their
stories with eyes as wide as owl’s. The girls’ previous life experiences
had provided them with mainly two images of wolves; one as the
infamous “big bad wolf” of fairy tales and the other as the werewolf
from stories such as Harry Potter. I must admit that my personal
knowledge of wolves was only slightly greater than the literary
stereotypes of my daughters. However, we have a saying in our family
that animals need “to live free and in the wild” and wolves definitely
fit with that mantra.
At the Northern Lights Wildlife Centre, Shelley Black, an adven-
turer, educator, and conservationist who operates the centre with her
husband, Casey, greeted us. She directed us to an outside area with
enclosures housing the wolves. There were five wolves and
informative signs set up, introducing us to the pack.
Aspen is a wolf dog: 25% Husky and 75% Grey Wolf. She came
to Shelley and Casey in 1998 and they spent a whole year observing
her behaviour and learning about wolves. Maya and Tuk are siblings

page20
and exhibit what is known as “the black phase” of the
Grey Wolf in terms of their coloring . They are both
quite shy around humans, but loving and respectful
of their fellow pack members.
 Wiley was only nine days old when he came to graciously replied that Moab was almost too big for cud-
Northern Lights, and was immediately taken under Maya’s dles, but that she would bring him out of the enclosure to
wing. He is a friendly and mischievous ambassador for the meet the girls. Ecstatic, yet cautious, Hanna and Emily
centre. Moab was the star we had come to see, the small were able to stroke Moab’s fuzzy puppy fur and smell his
scampering wolf cub who wild smell and, for an instant, our two worlds joined. I
had enchanted our remember feeling a mixture of motherly protective instinct
friends. for my girls coupled with sheer joy at this experience of a
My girls enjoyed lifetime.
watching all the wolves The girls’ summer ‘94 scrapbooks are filled with
and understood that they mementos, photos, drawings and journaling about that
were all part of the Grey daytrip to Northern Lights. They were able to make
Wolf family, even though connections with our own dogs, Maggie and Ellie, who are
their coloring ranged sisters and my daughters identified some of Maggie and
from black to caramel. Ellie’s natural, feral instincts as wolf-like.
They were especially The following summer, a highway sign coincidentally
entranced by Moab, who caught our eye en route to Invermere. “Meet Maya and
dug incessantly around Moab”, the sign proclaimed. It appeared our two favorite
his newly made den, nuz- wolves in the world were right in our backyard at a satel-
zled his surrogate wolf lite wildlife centre, which had opened up at Grey Wolf,
mother named Maya, and Panorama Resort. The girls and I headed up the following
scampered and tumbled day; eager to see how the wolves had grown. Moab was not
as our own dogs did. the furry ball of fire we had met twelve months previous.
However, as cute and cud- Instead, he weighed 85 lbs, had grown a majestic coat of
dly as he was, Shelley cinnamon fur, but was the same Moab we remembered
reminded us that Moab when he was next to Maya. Their bond was so evident. As
was a grey wolf and a they lay side by side, their bodies touching, they reminded
wild animal. me of our nine year old Lab/Border crosses, who always
Hanna and Emily lis- “touch”.
tened intently, but then This second meeting encapsulated for me the very
Hanna asked a question essence of the nurturing instinct, whether in domesticated
that I, too, had been wondering. If wolves live free and in or wild animals. In fact, Shelley and Casey Black, as the
the wild, what were they doing here? Were they born Alpha Omega of the pack, also demonstrate that same
here? Shelley explained that the centre had adopted each instinct with their life’s work and devotion to educating us
of the wolves in the pack as pups. Tuk and Maya were sib- and our children about wolves in our ecosystem. They are
lings, but had not been imprinted by humans when they committed to eradicating the image of the wolf as a
came to live at the centre. Humans imprinted Wiley and predator to be feared. Rather, their goal is for society to
Aspen at an early age; thus, they had become the centre’s recognize that “the wolf is neither man’s competition nor
education ambassadors, visiting school groups. Moab was his enemy. He is a fellow creature with whom the earth
touted as a future ambassador, having come to the centre must be shared.” Through education and protection in our
at only 4 weeks old. Bottle-fed in the beginning, Moab had National Parks and beyond, the wolf may indeed remain
already been imprinted through many daily human interac- free and in the wild, but there is great fear that their
tions. habitat is being encroached upon by humans and, with
Shelley also explained to us that wolves naturally live that, goes their freedom.
in a pack and it was not surprising that they had formed My family was forever changed by this meeting with
their own pack. She and Casey were the Alpha of the pack. Moab and Maya and my daughters continue to be interested
I was particularly touched by the relationship between in wolves and, indeed, the plight of all animals in general. In
Maya (Beta), the female black grey wolf and the newest fact, my eldest daughter, now eight years old, plans to make a
pack member, Moab. Their bond had been forged when career of caring for rescued animals. Thus, one short daytrip
Maya had dug the den for Moab, where he had slept as a resulted in a lifetime of memories, with our entire family
cub. She had initiated the regurgitation of her food for him, deeply affected by the imprint the wolves left upon us. ca
as is the nature of wolves, and had clearly taken on the role
of surrogate mother. Shelley indicated that Maya had also Website links:
done this for Wiley when he was a pup. www.canadianwolves.net
Amidst all this information and watching of wolves, www.wolfsongalaska.org/wolves_canada_importance.htm
Hanna asked Shelley if she could touch Moab. Shelley infor@northernlightswildlife.com

page21
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page22
 THE WILD FILE
the burrowing owl
by Shannon Curry

ome call them short, fluffy owls including; predation by hawks, Widespread education is a critical

S on stilts. While not a flattering

description, it is an apt one for
the Burrowing Owl. A prairie owl,
now found mostly in Alberta and
Saskatchewan, the Burrowing Owl’s
long thin legs allow them to see
farther across their flat landscape.
Their small stature also allows them
to nest in abandoned badger or
ground squirrel burrows, which they
line with dried cow or horse manure.
Inside the burrow, young owls make a
sound similar to a rattlesnake to ward
off predators.
These unusual traits make them
uniquely suited to life on the prairie,
where they’ve long coexisted with
grazing animals like bison and cattle.
But today the population is declining
at a rate of 20% per year, causing
scientists to predict that this once
common species will become extinct
in Canada in less than 20 years unless
this trend is reversed. In 2003,
scientists estimated that there were
less than 500 breeding pairs of
falcons and badgers, the decrease in
burrowing animals and burrows, the
loss of suitable habitat, collisions with
vehicles, decreases in available food
and the use of pesticides on crops.
But as the challenges mount for
this owl on the edge, so does the num-
ber of people climbing on board to do
something to save them. Today there
is a web of partnerships between gov-
ernment agencies, universities,
non-government organizations, indus-
try and landowners working together
to save the Burrowing Owl from
falling through the cracks.
The Burrowing Owl National
Recovery Team is comprised of over
40 members, who co-ordinate conser-
vation efforts among their respective
organizations. Some current
initiatives include; the release of
captive-bred owls in BC, studies on
nesting success using a miniature
camera slid into the burrow on a long
flexible tube, increasing prey supplies
to reduce the mortality of
aspect of Burrowing Owl recovery
because the species is typically found
in places that are very accessible to
the public. The Moose Jaw Burrowing
Owl Interpretive Facility and the
“Owls on Tour” program, within
southern Saskatchewan schools, raise
awareness of the Burrowing Owl’s
habitat requirements and its need for
protection.
Whether these efforts will save
the Burrowing Owl from extinction
remain to be seen. Clearly, the odds
are stacked against this small prairie
owl, which cannot afford continued
population losses for much longer.
But the groups and individuals
involved remain dedicated to their
work and cautiously hopeful. Perhaps
with the continued effort of the
ranchers, biologists, non-profit
groups, school children and govern-
ment, this species can become, once
again, a common sight on Canada’s
prairies. ca

photo courtesy: Tim Schowalter

Burrowing Owls in Canada, down
from approximately 2000 pairs in
1977. They are considered
“endangered” in Saskatchewan,
British Columbia and Manitoba, and
”threatened” in Alberta.
Why is this small, unobtrusive
species on such a steep slope towards
extinction? In the seventy-odd years
since modern agricultural practices
were introduced to Canada’s prairies,
over 75% of wild, native grasslands
have been replaced by crop land and
urban development. What is left is
largely sliced up by roads and oil and
gas development. It’s tempting to
point to this loss of habitat as the
major reason for the owl’s dwindling
numbers.
Indeed, scientists say it’s likely
some complex mix of factors are
causing Burrowing Owls to decline,
young owls, and isotope
research to determine where
the birds came from.
Operation Burrowing
Owl in Saskatchewan and
Operation Grassland
Community in Alberta are
two successful voluntary
stewardship programs which
involve landowners in the
protection of nesting
habitats. These programs
have enlisted the help of over
700 landowners in the two
provinces, protecting 50,000
hectares of owl nesting
habitat. Landowners report
the number of owls on
their land and promise to
keep owl nesting areas
as pesticide-free, grazed
grassland.

page23
 www .gpmartin.com
403-286-7476
1-877-286-7470

...original paintings
of your pets!

page24
 Saying good-bye to Billy
S
aying good-bye to a
friend who has
curled up on your
lap and chased
away loneliness
every night for 16 years isn’t easy. It’s
made even harder when it’s left up to
you to decide the moment of that
final farewell.
We got Billy from the Humane
Society 16 years ago, when he was
two. He was funny and playful and
when he put his paws around my
daughter’s neck and gave her a hug,
she, and we, were hooked.
I feared at the time it might just
be a trick to get us to take him home
where he would be free to express his
nasty-tempered side. But the playful
disposition he’d shown us at the
Humane Society really was his true
personality. We especially loved how
he could always find the gift marked
“Billy” amongst the piles of gifts
under the Christmas tree.
About six years ago he was
diagnosed with feline urinary disease
and our vet told us Billy most
probably had but a couple of years
left. He did well on a low protein diet,
although over the years, he gradually
lost weight and his fur became scruffy
and easily matted. But he remained
feisty, ate well and maintained a good
quality of life – defined as being able
to drink out of the toilet, jump on the
cupboards and bask hours on end in
his favourite sunbeam.
Last December Billy showed
signs of beginning to fail. He had
occasional bowel and gastrointestinal
problems, loss of appetite and he
slept more than usual. We let him
open his Christmas present early, just
in case. But he rebounded and
celebrated his 18th birthday in
January.
The kitty we’d had before Billy lived
to age 19. I wanted her to die peacefully
at home, but I waited too long. I
think she suffered unneces-
sarily because of my
inability to make
a decision. I was determined to learn
from my experience.
This spring and summer I had
several trips planned, both for
business and pleasure, but I worried
about leaving Billy. I arranged for a
loving, kind pet sitter to come in daily
to feed, pat, comfort and befriend
Billy. I talked to my vet clinic and
developed a “personal directive” for
Billy. We talked about what
arrangements should be made in case
of sickness or death while I was away
and I gave them my credit card
number to cover any expenses. They
showed me that by signing a
euthanasia certificate, I could give
them the authority to end Billy’s
suffering, if necessary. I made a note
that if he was sick to the point of
needing treatment, I wanted him to
be euthanized rather than be
subjected to antibiotics, fluids, tests
and other procedures that would
be very stressful and of little long
term value.
Once my daughter and I had
discussed this she was authorized to
make any decisions regarding his care.
The pet sitter knew that if there were
any concerns, she was to contact her. I
left the cat carrier and a blanket in the
bedroom. And I said good-bye to Billy
each time I left, just in case.
I was told that sometimes when
their owners are away, pets heave a
sigh of relief that they don’t have to
keep hanging on.
But Billy waited for me.
After one particular trip,
he cuddled next to me all
night and didn’t get off the
bed when I got up in
the morning. Over
the next few
days,
page25
by Carol MacLeod
he stopped eating and drinking and it
was painful to watch his slow, stiff
movements. The day came when,
after looking all over and finally
finding him in the farthest corner
under the bed, I knew it was time. He
didn’t want to be cuddled, he just
wanted to hide, as if he were trying to
distance himself from me because he,
too, knew it was time.
Cat carriers, cars and vet clinics
were Billy’s worst nightmare and I
was determined his last moments
were not going to be stressful nor
fearful. I had learned that some
veterinarians will do house calls for
euthanasia and I made what I truly
believe to be this most compassionate
of arrangements. It was all very gentle
and peaceful and I was comforted in
knowing that the timing was right.
In some ways it’s a relief. I don’t
run upstairs now, when I get home
from work, just to see if he’s still alive.
I don’t have a litter box in my bedroom
and a plastic drop sheet covering my
bed anymore. I can turn over in bed at
night. And I’m grateful I have two other
cats who try to fill in the gap. ca
Did you know that in-home euthanasia
was an option?? Anyone over the age
of 18 is advised to have a personal
directive for medical care. It only
makes sense that we, as agents for our
pets, see that we establish
one for them, as
well. Talk to
your vet.
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page26

oday is a good day. I’m drink-
T ing tea on my patio while I
watch the chickadees politely
waiting their turn to visit the bird
feeder. The 8
inch diameter
spider web
behind my head
has netted a few
small flies. The
ants are dili-
gently ‘farming’
the aphids and
the ladybugs are
assiduously eat-
ing the aphids.
A few magpies
are screeching at each other from my
neighbour’s pine tree. It’s quiet so far
today in my back garden, but I know
all that can change in a flash if my
dog spots a squirrel.
It started innocently enough with
a few small potted marigolds and
petunias. Then came the garden
along with the purchase of a house.
Then a few more plants and a tree to
go in the garden. Then a bigger
flower bed to fit in more plants.
Before I knew it I was bitten by the
gardening bug.
What I didn’t expect were the
things that would grow alongside the
flowers. In no time at all I noticed
that I was getting a lot more bugs in
my garden. Ants were scurrying
around, bees were tap dancing on the
new flowers, spiders were making
webs everywhere and, joy oh joy, but-
terflies were fluttering in to visit and
leave again.
Next to come were the birds.
Within no time at all I had robins
pulling worms out of my lawn, a nest
of sparrow babies in the tree and reg-
ular visits from the loud grackles.
Then the dreaded happened. I
found aphids sucking the life out of
my pretty new plant and some sort of
THE GARDENING BUG
outside my window
by Judi Schofield
wasp cutting circles out of my rose’s It’s easy to do. By planting a lilac
leaves. Well, it didn’t take me long to
respond the way most people do
when this happens. Yes, I got the
shrub you are providing nectar for
butterflies and hummingbirds and
winter food and shelter for birds,
spray can and powders and squirrels and jackrabbits. By planting
starting fighting back. a few flowers around it, such as bee
I shudder now to think balm, phlox or dianthus you can keep
about the damage I did these creatures in your garden all
without even being aware of summer. Give it a try and see what
it. The sprays that I used to you can see outside your window. ca
kill the aphids also killed the
ladybugs that eat them. I’m For more information on Naturescaping
sure you can take a good and to see it in practice you can visit the
guess as to which came back new Naturescape Display Garden, built
to my garden first! Hint: it August 2005 by the CHS in conjunction
wasn’t the ladybugs. with the City of Calgary or visit our
And the leaf-cutter website at www.calhort.org
wasps; they were only taking a few
rounds to make a home while
repaying me by eating loads of nasty
bugs. So, to counter the loss of the
insect predators I had poisoned, I felt
I had to start spraying even more to
try to kill all the nasty bugs myself.
Meanwhile, I noticed I wasn’t getting
the baby birds and the butterflies
weren’t visiting as often.
It took me a few years and a
box of assorted poisons before it
began to sink in. Mother Nature
doesn’t work this way, so why am
I?! It took a lot of patience, reading
all kinds of information and a few
chewed and eaten plants before my
resolve to not sprinkle or spray paid
off. Now I am able to sit on my patio
and watch everything taking care of
each other.
Since joining the Calgary
Horticultural Society I have learned
that this is called “Naturescaping”.
You choose the trees, shrubs and
flowers that you want and that
benefit urban wildlife (the birds, bees
and bunnies that live in Calgary with
us) and in return they will take care
of the garden’s pest problems for
you and entertain you while you sip
your tea.
page27

allantry and heroism belong to more creatures than
G just men and mankind. There are stories out there
of bravery and sacrifice among the animals that
defy description. Dogs and even cats have been known to
respond to emergencies on behalf of a human with no
thought of danger to themselves.
Less known to us are the stories of animals helping
one another. The common notion is that animals
only live by fight or flight, eat or be eaten, per-
haps the story I’m about to relate would come
under the heading of “survival of the
species”. But that seems a very cold and
clinical observation. I prefer to see it
as a display of the best virtue a
male of any species can exhibit.
It happened around
1954—’55 in the deep
winter of northern
B.C. Winter in
Canada’s north-
land was a
time of heavy
snow and
severe cold.
Temperatures of
40˚—50˚ below zero
Fahrenheit, with four to
five feet of snow, were
considered normal, even
moderate, and every man, beast,
bird and bug hunkered down and
suffered through it.
We were living in Prince George and
our friend, Howard, was a fireman on the rail
line. Much of northern B.C. at that time was still
wilderness, with mile upon mile of thick forest in
every direction, claiming few towns and fewer roads.
This particular winter, Howard’s freight train was
making its usual run through the miles of wilderness. It
was night, cold and dark, the sky a brilliant display of
diamond bright stars.
All along the lonely track, banks of snow thrown up
by the rail line snowplow were piled as high as 10 to 12
feet, even more sometimes, and frozen solid. As the
engine labored the long miles, its headlight was brilliant
against the white walls of this endless cavern. Suddenly,
as their light swept round a corner, Howard and his
companions saw ahead of them, running hard, a small
herd of deer. There were several does and one still fully
antlered buck.
by: G. Currie-Robertson
The engineer slowed to give them a chance to get out
of the way but as hard as they tried, they simply could not
leap the distance to the top of that wall of frozen snow.
Mile after mile they ran, their breath like smoke on the
frozen air, but they could not keep their lead and there was
no escape. Eventually, they began to falter.
It was then that the buck put his head under the
haunches of one of the struggling does and with a
mighty heave, boosted her up and over that
terrible wall. They kept running and he kept
catching up to each of them. One by one,
he got his panting, despairing mothers-
to-be out of harm’s way.
Then he ran no more. With
a last desperate act of courage
and defiance, he turned,
lowered his head and
with all his remain-
ing strength,
charged that
massive loco-
motive.
Of course
the buck was
killed but I’ve often
wondered what more
the men could have done.
Couldn’t they have stopped
the confounded thing? Surely,
surely, if they had really thought
about it, they could have saved the
beasts. Maybe they might have stopped
and cut a shelter in the side of the snow
where the deer could have hidden until the
train had passed. But how do you talk a herd of
wild deer into using it? Anyway, it didn’t happen.
There was a schedule to keep, people and produce
awaiting their arrival. Nobody stopped for creatures in
those days. It wasn’t done.
And how did the does make out? Howard never
said whether they all got out on the same side of the
track or not. They probably didn’t. They’d have been
separated and in that deep snow, they’d have been
sure targets for the wolves, unable to defend
themselves without a set of antlers.
Still, God willing, some of them made it to the
next spring to give birth to that valiant stag’s
offspring. Surely, a beast so gallant deserves to live on
as more than just a memory told in a story some
50 years too late. ca
it occurs to me
writing poetry
that mammals and birds like to group
bugs, not a few
amphibians too
all mixed in primordial soup
most chicks when they're hatched
stay conveniently batched
in groups that may cause one to laugh
though calves will wander
here, there and yonder
not yet cows, but just heifers in half
we see flocks of birds
antelope in herds
and baboons congregate in tribes
a pocket of fleas
a swarm of bees
with their own particular vibes
such groupings are cool
like fish in a school
we know there's safety in numbers
like an army of ants
on their way to your pants
or slugs in a patch of cucumbers
a pack of mules o
o
o
o
in stubborn duels
o to label their gangs and throngs
with cows in green pastures of poo
bawling and braying
as if to be saying
do as I bray, not as they moo
a shiver of sharks
an ascension of larks
geese are a gaggle in groups
goats gather in droves
and hidden in groves
are groups of hairy ape troops
Every
crowd
crocs huddling in floats
laying wait for boats
are many a folks last chance
a rumba of snakes
is all that it takes
with death should they
choose to
we call them bloats
in rivers and moats
when hippopotami conven
e
leopards in leaps
give dik dik the creeps
several hiding in wait unseen
prolific they are
prolific they be
bunny groupings go on and on
droves, colonies, traces
suffice in most cases
has asilly
rhyming
by Trebor Redleif
bacteria cultures
a wake of vultures
tigers form an ambush en masse
a rake of mules
(per etiquette rules)
more refined than a herd of ass
though coyotes will band
and sound somewhat grand
as they howl and wail at the moon
a lounge of lizards
‘Rolling Stones’ in their gizzards
shan't be cutting a record too soon
a nuisance of cats
a mischief of rats
dance
each try to outsmart one another
a knot of frogs
a passel of hogs
with faces loved onl
y by mother
these stanzas which rhyme
show sadly that I'm
left unsure what collective noun
best describes row on row
these verses I crow
like a perverse demented clown
this bundle of verses
gets only the worse as
I try to come up with a name
for phrases and lines
and twisted rhymes
describing groups wild and tame
this cluster of words
just verses in herds
I'm unsure what their grouping should be
what hits the right note
for these words that I wrote
© ahhhh...
a murder of poetry

henever I can, I walk by the Bow River here in
W Calgary. It is my time. The green embankments
on either side of the river, with their bike paths
and jogging trails, are a playground for city residents but
are also home to many other creatures. Canada geese,
mallard ducks, beavers and otters all live here right under
our noses.
If I walk around noon, the sun dazzles my eyes, dancing
off the ripples in the swift moving Bow.
The sound of the water rushing past,
blends with the noise of the traffic on
Memorial Drive flowing on the other
side of the path. The two sounds are
strangely the same. A babble of
human voices streams past me as
downtown workers exercise on their
lunch hour. Across the river, the
sun also reflects back from the tow-
ers of glass windows where these
runners will spend the rest of
their day.
Later in the afternoon, the
Canada geese dominate the
river in numbers and also in
attitude. They seem to have
territorial boundaries whether
we can see them or not. A
gaggle of geese might be
floating serenely in the water
when two others will land
amongst them. Suddenly,
there is a great honking and
beating of wings and the
offending two will take to
the skies again. Or some-
times it is the incoming
geese that do all the
honking and splashing.
Then the others disperse
in a wide circle and
leave the bullies with a
few square yards of
their own.
However, some
other animals may not
be taken in with
the geese’s delusions
of grandeur. Some
beavers have a
page30
THE FINAL WORD
in the shadow of skyscrapers
by MaryJane Danyluk
lodge at the mouth of a small lagoon on the downtown side
of the river. One evening, I spotted two of them sitting on
a sand spit working on some driftwood when a pair of
geese entered the scene honking and splashing. Their hos-
tility was definitely aimed at the beaver but the rodents
continued stolidly with their work, nonchalantly
proclaiming their territorial rights. This time the geese had
to back off and they drifted away, muttering indignantly.
Along with the territorial disputes, there is a lot of
family life that goes on around here. Did you know that
mallard mothers put their babies to bed at 8:30? And, just
as do human children, ducklings have difficulty trying to
nod off to sleep while the sun is still up!
On an evening’s stroll I stopped, enchanted, to watch
a mother mallard and her 5 ducklings. The little ones were
zipping around in all directions, chasing after tasty bits of
little somethings in the water. Then, mother made a low,
throaty quack and the ducklings all darted towards her.
She swam slowly along the river’s edge with all of them
more or less in tow until she found a large rock jutting out
of the water. As the babies gathered around, she began to
dip her head under the water and preen her feathers.
Opening her wings, she would beat them rhythmically for
a moment before returning to her dipping and preening.
Soon, five pairs of fuzzy little wings were beating the air
enthusiastically and little heads were dipping into the
water furiously. At another signal quack from Mom,
everyone scrambled up the riverbank onto a dry flat rock
and snuggled down together to go to sleep. The mother
floated by the bank, watching them placidly.
As I began to move away, the sharp sound of my first
step caused five little heads to pop up to see what was
happening and Mother kept one wary eye on me and the
other on her babies. I froze again for a minute and then
slowly backed away to the path and left them in peace. I
saw the little heads snuggle down again and mother
resume her watch.
The city was quieting too, as much as a city ever does.
There were more strollers now than joggers on the path;
couples hand in hand and solitary dreamers like me. We
all, human and animal, were reluctant to relinquish the
day.
And, as always, I marveled at the way these wild
creatures can thrive at the very feet of the city skyscrapers.
It makes our grand technology seem so superficial. It only
takes a crack in the sidewalk for Mother Nature to reassert
herself. But, in this one spot by the river, at least, human
nature and Mother Nature share the space fairly well, with
only a distant awareness of each other. ca
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