Preparing for the winter

Eastern Chipmunk, Tamias striatus

I haven’t featured a wild mammal here in quite a while (white horses and new pets count as mammals but it’s a long time since they’ve been wild). Certainly the last wild mammal I remember writing about was the opossum that visited my parents’ feeders last winter. Perhaps not coincidentally, today’s critter has also been coming to our feeders. That’s the whole point of feeders, after all – to draw the animals to you, so you don’t have to go looking for them.

Generally the target group for feeders is birds, but rodents are big fans of the seed put out, as well. Squirrels get most of the attention, but chipmunks are just as frequently seen. In fact, when we first put our feeders out, the chipmunks found the seed within a couple days, but it took a few weeks before we saw the first squirrel there. Chipmunks are abundant in this neck of the woods. My parents have lots of chipmunks around, but up here we seem to have LOTS of chipmunks around.

Eastern Chipmunk, Tamias striatus

The Eastern Chipmunk (Tamias striatus) is a forest species preferring deciduous and mixed woodlands, though urban parks will quite readily do as long as there are sufficient mature trees for food. It’s the only species of chipmunk (members of the genus Tamias) found in eastern North America. There’s one species that occurs in Eurasia, and the remaining 23 of the 25 species of Tamias are all native to western North America.

The Eastern Chipmunk’s scientific name, T. striatus, reflects its strongly striped back. It’s often described as having nine stripes, or five dark stripes interspersed with light ones, and technically that’s true, but to me the more intuitive way of describing it would be that it has a dark dorsal stripe, and two dark-bordered white stripes, one on each side.

The origin of the word chipmunk is less clear. One source says it’s from the Algonkian word for “head first”, for the way it descends trees, a second suggests it’s from an Odawa word for “red squirrel”. Another indicates that the “chip” part of chipmunk is in reference to the sound the critters make when alarmed (in the 1830s they were in fact called “chip squirrels”).

Eastern Chipmunk, Tamias striatus

Chipmunks are notorious food-hoarders. They spend virtually their whole day searching out food and tucking it away for winter provisions. It’s possible for an individual, if they stumble across an especially rich food source (such as a birdfeeder) to pack away enough food to last their lifetime, nevermind just the winter, in just a single season. Though we tend to think of them as nut and seed eaters, they also eat berries, conifer cones, mushrooms and insects, and even small frogs or birds’ eggs. There’s usually enough food in a single acre of a good-quality forest to support up to 30 individuals, and the only reason there aren’t 30 chipmunks in every acre of woods is that they’re extremely territorial (Alvin, Simon and Theodore being the exception). This is why when you see two chipmunks together they’re nearly always chasing each other.

Just like with the Blue Jays, to aid in their efforts of hoarding food they have pouches on the inside of their cheeks into which they tuck the seed and other foodstuffs they collect. They use their tongue to manoeuver the seeds into the pouches, which together can hold as many as 70 sunflower seeds at once! When full, the pouches bulge in a pretty good imitation of the mumps, nearly doubling the width of the rodent’s face. When they get back to the burrow and want to empty out the pouches they use their paws to push the back of the outside of their cheeks, dislodging the seeds.

Eastern Chipmunk, Tamias striatus

They’re pseudo-hibernators, spending the winter holed up and sleeping for most of it. They do enter a torpid state, where their body temperature might drop as low as 5-7 oC (41-45 oF) for periods, but they don’t go into the same deep state of torpor that bears and other true hibernators do, and therefore don’t need to pack on the pounds of fat. When they wake up in the middle of winter they’re able to easily feed from the food they collected over the fall and stored in their burrow. They dig a football-sized burrow about three feet (1 m) underground, and line it with leaves. The lead-in tunnel while they’re working on the burrow can be as much as 10 to 15 m (32 to 50 ft) long, putting the entrance hole quite some distance from the main burrow, which guards against predators so that they can’t just dig around the entrance hole if they find it. Once the burrow is done, they dig a new entry tunnel, and push all the dirt from the new hole back up the old one to plug it so that the mound of dirt on the surface is no longer an indication of an entrance. If they feel like getting fancy, they may add a storage chamber, a “dump” and a restroom to their burrow system.

Eastern Chipmunk, Tamias striatus

Most western chipmunks have just one litter per year, but the Eastern has two, one in early spring just after thaw, and the other in mid-summer. When the male chipmunks wake up from their long winter’s sleep in the spring, they’re feeling pretty horny and the first thing they do, after perhaps grabbing a bite to eat so their growling stomach doesn’t embarrass them, is call upon the burrow of a nearby female. If the female hasn’t done her hair and makeup yet she may turn him away until she’s ready. Then all that territoriality that’s maintained over the rest of the year is forgotten, and the couple spend hours cuddling and playing (and mating) together. If two males come to court the same female at the same time, they’ll spend the day chasing each other until one wears out. The victor, the one who lasted the longest, is the one who gets the girl. The same thing plays out in the summer (minus the waking up from hibernation).

Each litter may contain up to 4-5 young. An individual chipmunk, if it survives the learning curve of its first year, may live 2-3 years on average in the wild (a captive chipmunk can reach 8 years) and could produce up to 30 youngsters. The majority of these will be taken by predators, or starve over the winter, and not make it to the following mating season, so populations don’t get overrun by the prolific breeding production. Young are driven off in late spring and early fall, at age 6 to 8 weeks, to fend for themselves. They will either find an old abandoned burrow or dig their own new one to spend the winter.

I don’t mind sharing some of our seed with one or two of these little guys to help them make it through the winter – they’re such characters, the forest would be duller without them!

The White Stallions

Lip11

I grew up with horses. My mom got her first horse when she was 16, and there have been horses in her life since. I remember reading kids’ stories such as The Black Stallion when I was younger. We took riding lessons at the local stable, competed in the stable’s beginner classes. We knew the names of all the international-circuit riders and their horses, we’d go to the Royal Agricultural Winter Fair in Toronto and watch some of them compete. Watched the Triple Crown races every spring, hoping to see a new star come on the scene who’d sweep all three (it still hasn’t happened in my lifetime, the last one was 1977). We knew the stories of famous historical horses, we went and saw the grave of the original Morgan horse when we were in Vermont on a family trip. One of those groups we knew were the white Lipizzaner stallions.

Lip13

The Lipizzaners date back to the late 1500s. Two stud farms were established by the Habsburg emperor and his brother, using horses of Spanish stock. The original farms were in Kladrub, Austria, and Lippiza, now known as Lipica and located in what is now modern-day Slovenia. The breed takes its name from the latter. During the formative years of the stud farms, the stallions were crossed with Spanish and Italian horses. The Kladrub farm specialized in breeding heavier carriage horses, while the Lippiza stud bred riding and light carriage horses.

Lip22

All Lipizzans are branded with four brands, which uniquely identify the horse and its heritage and ownership. You can only see two in this photo; the other two are hidden under the saddle. The one on the horse’s cheek is an L, which indicates he is of the Lipizzan breed. The one on his haunch indicates his lineage. All Lipizzan stallions originate from one of six primary foundation stallions, who lived in the late 1700s. Nearly all of the stallions in the performance we saw were from the Pluto line, and the P with the crown over it symbolizes this heritage, that’s Pluto’s specific brand. Lipizzan stallions are named in two parts – the first part is their lineage, and the second is their mother’s name. This horse would be Pluto Somethingorother (all the horses were introduced but I wasn’t able to catch what their full names were, much less keep track of them all). I’m not sure what happens if the mare produces two Pluto foals. Somethingorother A and Somethingorother B?

Lip19

There’s a neat true story, presented by Disney in their movie Miracle of the White Stallions, involving the Lipizzans. During World War II the Nazis took the stallions to a German-run farm. When the farm was threatened by bombing raids the stallions were evacuated to upper Austria. However, there they faced starvation, and also theft by hungry refugees who viewed them as a source of meat. Eventually, General George S. Patton, of the 2nd U.S. Cavalry, heard of the horses and their predicament, got to see a demonstration of their skills, and issued the orders that eventually saved the breed from extinction. There were only 250 Lipizzans left after the war; their numbers have rebounded since then, and there are now about 3,000 in the official Lipizzaner registry.

Lip12

Virtually all Lipizzaner horses are white these days, but they didn’t start out that way. The original horses of those two stud farms were all colours: bay, brown, black, white, dun, grey. Some were even pintos, spotted black/brown and white. The royalty that they were bred for preferred grey horses, however, so preference was given to breeding horses of that coat colour. Grey is a dominant gene, and eventually nearly all horses bore that dominant gene. Of course, there are still some grey horses that carry the recessive dark-coat gene, and when two of these are bred, and by chance the recessive gene from both parents is inherited by the offspring, you’ll end up with a black or bay foal. These dark Lipizzans have been considered good luck, and it’s a long-standing tradition for Lipizzan studs and schools to have one in their herd.

Lip17

Most grey horses are only grey for their young years, and Lipizzans are no exception. They are dark-skinned, and are born dark, often bay or black, but gradually grey as they grow older. They only reach their full white colour sometime between 6 and 10 years of age. Most of the horses we saw at the show were white, but there was one greyish horse who was still in that younger age bracket, a new recruit to the performance.

Lip20

Lipizzans are slow to reach maturity. Thoroughbreds are on the racetrack by the time they’re two years old, but a Lipizzan is usually only started under saddle at age four. Maturity is considered to be about age seven. To make up for this late blooming, though, they are rather long-lived as horses go, routinely reaching their 30s, while other breeds may only live to mid- to late 20s. At the age where other horses might be contemplating retirement (if they’re even still alive), Lipizzaners are often still performing. It’s just as well that they live so long, because to teach them everything well enough to perform usually takes about 6-8 years.

Lip10

The Spanish Riding School was established in 1572, and though it is located in Austria, it’s named for the Spanish horses that made up those first stud farms. The original wooden riding hall was replaced in 1729 by a white one that is still used today. Here the stallions (mares are never broken to saddle, and geldings – males who have been “fixed” – are only extremely rarely) are taught the movements of Haute Ecole, or “high school”, the really advanced movements such as half-pass (where the horse moves on a diagonal sideways, as shown above), the flying change (where the horse switches which foot strikes the ground first in the stride; if done every other stride, it looks like the horse is skipping), or the piaffe (where the horse trots in place, without moving forward).

Lip7

Much of what Lipizzaners are trained to do is groundwork – that is, different gaits and movements that are all done on the ground, basically everything that isn’t jumping. More than 3/4 of the show we saw was of this sort of performance. But what Lipizzans are really known for are the “airs above the ground”. These are movements that require great strength and control on the horse’s part to execute, and often require leaping from the ground (hence the name). I had gone to the show with great anticipation for this segment, and was disappointed that it wasn’t longer. However, it was still pretty neat to get to see. The above “air” is the levade, where the horse balances on his hind legs at a 35 degree angle.

Lip1

This is the pesade, very similar except the horse rears up higher and can be trained to strike out with his front hooves. It’s unclear the origin of these moves, but what we were told in the show was that they were battle moves. The levade was used to get the rider out of the reach of a foot soldier’s sword, while the pesade was used to strike out at soldiers when surrounded. However, while the schools where these movements were originally taught were indeed military academies, the moves would all typically expose the vulnerable underbelly of the horse so it’s unlikely they were actually used in combat. Instead, they were probably used in training to strengthen the horse and rider, both physically and mentally. Or perhaps they just thought they were fun.

Lip6

This one is the courbette, where the horse rears up and then hops forward. Supposedly this was used to break through enemy lines, but I would think it’d be easier just to run in at full speed (who’s going to stand in the way of a charging stallion?). You can see how moves like this, especially, would require exceptional strength and control in the hindquarters of the horse.

Lip4

This final one is the capriole, where the horse leaps into the air and then kicks out backwards at the height of the jump, with a supposedly similar effect as the pesade. There are actually seven different airs, but we were only shown four. It takes a long time for a horse to learn to perform one of these moves, and most horses learn only one or two during their lifetime. We saw all of them except this final one also performed with a rider in the saddle (I have to imagine the capriole is much more strenuous on the horse and a rider doesn’t help), but my photos weren’t as good.

Andalusian stallion

Finally, to wrap up the post, a different horse. This is an Andalusian, another strong, graceful breed and one of the breeds used in creating the Lipizanner. The Andalusian did many of the same groundwork movements that the Lipizzans did, but had a couple all his own, as well. This was one, where he was asked to reach out with one leg, and then the other, as he moved down the carpet. I imagine the final goal is to create a high-stepping slow walk, but right now they were just working on getting the movement down. I noticed that a few of the horses, even though they were performing, were still mastering some of the moves, and it’s kind of neat to watch the training of a young horse, like peeking in on a puppy and its owner learning how to sit, or a young child performing in their first school play.

Andalusian stallion

He had this one down pat, though, the classic Spanish bow. Thank you, and good night!

Lip21

A happy bird is an indoor cat

Schroeder

Continuing the cat theme from yesterday’s post, I wanted to touch on the subject of cats outdoors. Anyone who knows me knows I’m more of a Cat Person than a Dog Person. I grew up with a couple of dogs, till I was in my teens, but there have always been cats in the family. When I had the opportunity to take a cat in university, I did, and I was sad to have to find another home for her when I graduated (one that I thought would be temporary, but my situation ended up not sorting itself out as quickly as I had initially envisioned, so it ended up being a permanent home). Now that I’m (finally!) settled in what will hopefully be something of a more long-term residence, I have two cats again, plus a dog. I’ve missed having pets in my life, and it’s nice to have these three enlivening the house.

Dactyl

The sentiment is shared by millions of other people, too, and pet ownership is at an all-time high, with 63% of US households (some 69 million households!) owning at least one pet as of 2006. Between these 69 million households, there’s some 73 million dogs and 90 million cats. These numbers suggest cats to be more popular than dogs, but cats are undoubtedly more numerous than dogs because they’re easier to keep in apartments or small residences, plus they’re smaller and require less direct care (such as taking for walks), so it’s easier to own more than one per house. Interestingly, a 2002 survey suggests that 40% of US households own a dog, while only 30% own a cat. Of dog owners, about 37% own more than one dog, while the remaining 63% just have a single one (count our house among that faction). Meanwhile, 51% of homes have two or more cats, and 49% have just one. Of the five cat-owning homes I know (my various family members and my best friend), four have multiple cats, and it’s just my friend with a single individual.

Momcat

That’s just the owned animals. In the US, there is an additional segment of the cat population who are considered feral animals, not owned or cared for by any particular individual. All told, there are well over 100 million cats in the country. Estimates figure that anywhere from 25% to 65% of owned cats are allowed to roam about outdoors. Combined with the feral population, that could mean as many as 70 million cats prowling the alleyways and hedgerows, with a heavier proportion in country settings than urban ones.

Mikey

Cats are natural-born predators. It’s in a cat’s instincts to chase potential prey, which is why they’re so entertained by chasing a few feathers tied to a string, they just can’t help themselves. It doesn’t matter how well they’re fed, or how recently they’ve eaten, a cat faced with an easy target is likely to try to get it. As with all domesticated animals, they’re still wild animals at heart, and their wild ancestors would have to be opportunistic and take advantage of potential food situations whenever they arose, regardless of whether they were hungry – who knew when the next meal would walk by. Because of this, cats make great mousers for the house (many of them, anyway; I’ve known some who were probably just as afraid of the mouse as the mouse was of them).

Rosie

They also are excellent hunters of birds. An especially prolific hunter may kill up to 1000 animals in a year, with birds making up 20% of the catch. Typically numbers are smaller for the average cat, with urban cats taking less than rural cats, but virtually all cats will end up killing wildlife. Multiply these numbers out across the continent, and free-ranging cats take more than a billion wild animals every year, including millions of songbirds. In some areas, this heavy predation pressure has had a noticeable and negative impact on bird populations. One of the most infamous examples is that of the Stephens Island Wren, a flightless species endemic to Stephens Island, New Zealand. The species was most probably wiped out by an escaped, pregnant cat and her subsequent offspring, which eventually numbered hundreds of individuals just five years later. They were finally eradicated from the island a couple decades later, but it was too late for the wren by then.

Tonka

In North America there aren’t any endemic flightless species at risk of being exterminated by cats, but cats are taking a toll on bird species in general. Along with window, tower and vehicle collisions, cats are one of the primary direct causes contributing to the decline in songbird numbers. Indirect causes, such as habitat loss, pesticides, etc, make life even harder for these birds. Really, it’s no great surprise that populations are declining, and in fact it’s rather amazing we still have as many birds as we do, with all the trials they go through. It’s hard for us as individuals to do much about large-scale issues such as habitat loss, but controlling cat predation is an easy one – just keep your cat indoors.

Arthur

Declawed cats, or cats outfitted with bells, are also not going to have any less of an impact on the bird population. A cat doesn’t use its claws to kill birds, although they can help; it just needs to bat the bird down and stun it or pin it, whereupon it uses its teeth to dispatch it. Also, a cat, when it’s stalking prey, moves so fluidly that it can keep a bell from making hardly any noise at all. When I was younger, before my parents began keeping all their cats indoors, I remember one of them, who bore a bell on his collar, having discovered that he could sneak around behind a flock of birds foraging at the seed on the driveway and startle them so that they’d fly toward the windows on the house. If he was lucky one would smack into the window and he’d have an easy catch. The bell on his collar was useless.

Raven

Dogs aren’t off the hook, either. A dog that is allowed to run free in natural environments at best disturbs the local wildlife (who view the wolf-like shape as a predator) and at worst may predate an animal or bird itself. There are some species of dogs who are bred to be hunters or retrievers and who will chase small animals, certainly not to the benefit of the animal itself. Recent research has shown that even just walking a dog in an area will have a negative effect on bird abundance and diversity there, compared to an area where no dogs are present. It’s best to keep your dog on a leash, or take them to designated off-leash areas (or your backyard) for play if you can, particularly during the breeding season.

Capone

Dogs are large, energetic animals that just can’t get enough exercise within the household, and so need to be taken outdoors for walks or other exercise. Cats, on the other hand, are relatively sedentary animals that can usually get sufficient exercise just through their normal routine and play indoors. An indoor cat is not necessarily an unhappy cat. Provided with ample play opportunity, and a cozy seat by the window, a cat can be perfectly content. If you really want to be able to let your cat outdoors, train it to go out on a harness and leash, or tether the leash to a stake in the yard where you can keep an eye on it.

Schroeder

Besides all the benefits to wildlife, keeping your cat indoors will benefit them, too. A free-roaming cat has an average lifespan of less than 5 years. My parents, when I was growing up, had a series of several outdoor cats, and most lasted about two years before disappearing altogether, presumably either hit by a car or taken by a coyote, the two largest threats to free-roaming cats. An indoor cat, on the other hand, can live up to 15-20 years; virtually all the indoor cats I’ve known have lived this long. The Guinness record for oldest cat is 31 years. I can guarantee no outdoor cat will live that long. (The record for a dog is 29 years.)

Moey

The American Bird Conservancy has an active campaign called Cats Indoors! that promotes the benefits of keeping your cat inside. You can read more on the issue at their website.

My cats will always be indoor cats, for their health, my happiness, and the wild birds’ lives.

Today at Kingsford – Kittens

Merlin and Oliver

Is there anything cuter than a sleeping kitten? Raven’s been getting a lot of face time lately, but the kittens have been largely ignored here, so I’d promised Mom I’d do a post on them. Part of that is because Raven will come on walks, and the kittens are strictly indoor cats (much as I imagine they’d love to wander around outside). We’ve also had Raven longer. The kittens arrived a couple weeks ago, but have settled in well in that time. They’re both very friendly, though the stripy one more so than the other. They get along well with Raven, as much as can be expected; they’ll still run the other way if she comes bounding up with that puppy exuberance, but if she approaches quietly they’ll sit and let her lick them and even tolerate her gently grasping their neck in her mouth – perhaps it reminds them of what their mother would do when carrying them? I have no doubt that if Raven hurt them they’d be quick to let her know, but I keep an eye on their interactions nonetheless.

Merlin
Merlin

The dark one is named Merlin, the stripy one is Oliver. He’d come with the name Ziggy, and I toyed with calling him Ziggy Stardust (at least on his vet records; that’s too much of a mouthful to call him around the house) but he just seemed much more like an Oliver, a name that popped into my head for him – that’s when you know a name really suits the animal, it just comes to you. So far they’re working hard at eliminating the vicious wasp population in the house; they’ve eaten at least three that we know of, before we could get to the wasp to remove it ourselves. Raven tried to help out, and got stung for her efforts. Her face swelled up like a French Bulldog, her eyes so swollen she could barely see out. I wish I’d gotten a photo, it was hilarious. I took her to the vet, but fortunately there was no swelling of her tongue or anything else that would potentially cause breathing or other problems, and the swelling went down within a couple hours.

This evening I’m off to visit my sister. She got tickets for the “World Famous” Lipizzaner Stallions, which we’re going to see, and I’m excited. I hope they’ll let you bring cameras!

Oliver
Oliver

Today at Kingsford

Raven - goin' crazy

Today at Kingsford I am feeling exhausted. It’s 8:30 and I’m just about ready for bed. Boy, I knew that puppies were a lot of work, but I don’t think I was fully prepared for just what we were signing up for. The exhausting bits are those like the above…

Raven - goin' crazy

…or this…

Raven - all tied up

…or this.

Actually, it’s not so much the tailing after her to untangle her or empty her mouth (which I seem to have to do a lot) just in and of itself that’s exhausting, but rather the having to be at constant attention, with one eye always on her, so you can never fully relax or focus down on a project. I’ve read that a puppy can sleep for “as much as” 16 hours a day, and the sources generally recommend letting the puppy rest and not keeping them up. I don’t know what sane puppy parent would possibly be doing that. They may sleep 16 hours, but that still leaves 8 hours a day that they’re curiously getting into everything! I very much value my snippets of downtime while she’s sleeping during the day…

So I’m a little behind on catching up on reading or answering my comments or other little tasks like that. I’m sure I’ll have lots of time to get back on top of that once she’s grown out of her puppyish energy… in a couple years…

Raven - who me?

Who, me? Trouble? Naaah, couldn’t possibly. Look how sweet I’m being…