Río y Arroyo : a beaver's tale, part two

 

By Nancy Cowing Umphres

 

In last month's article I began to tell the ongoing story of the rescue and rehabilitation of two orphaned beavers. The flooding rains in spring caused the week-old beaver kits to wash away from their family and end up on the shores of the Río Grande , where they were rescuedby some fishermen. We received the kits in early April and began the long process of raising happy, healthy, stable beavers.

Taking on the rehabilitation of orphaned beavers is certainly a challenge, especially in the early months when they demand constant care and attention. Imprinting on humans isn't a problem with this species as it with so many others. Once they are old enough for release, their instincts kick in and they are gone. They're shy, intelligent vegetarians whose ancestors are responsible for much of our country's rich farm land.

The beaver was once a diurnal species that became nocturnal due to constant persecution. The uncontrolled hunting for their fur almost caused their extinction by the end of the 1800s. Once man realized how important the beaver was to the environment, regulations were put into place to control the slaughter. In many depleted areas they actually had to be reintroduced.

Río and Arroyo took up residence in a makeshift lodge in our living room. A baby playpen kept them under control for the first few weeks of around-the-clock care, but that soon became too confining, and they expanded their lodge to include a cubby hole in our bookcase surrounded by fresh willow branches and a little pool. Even at the tender age of several weeks they like to help clean the lodge by pushing towels and branches around.

The first weeks were taken up with eating, sleeping, cleaning, and wrestling. Their resemblance to sumo wrestlers is uncanny. Río has a quiet, patient personality, while Arroyo tends to be demanding and bratty. Her tantrums were amazing, and she had no patience whatsoever. Thankfully she has outgrown most of her early negative personality traits, although I felt we would not survive weaning.

At eight weeks I started the gradual weaning process and by 11 weeks they were eating on their own. It took a strong will to get them off the bottle, but I figured when they could hold and nurse their own bottle without help they needed to graduate to a bowl. They suckled a towel for many weeks to come and that seemed to satisfy them.

As they grew, they began to explore their surroundings and search for mama in the middle of the night. I would wake up to a soft whining sound or a loud warning slap of a beaver tail beside our bed. The interest in chewing our wooden furniture was their next quest so it was time to move outside, yet another of the traumatic hurdles of beaver rehab.

We have a very large beaver cage at our rescue center, equipped with a pond, stream, and wooden lodge. The kits were scared but interested on their introduction to their new home. I had to spend many hours with them to make the change as stress-free as possible. If the cage door was left open, they would beat me back to the house, wanting a swim in their safe bathtub. The large pond scared them. I had to get in the pond with them as they clung to my shorts. They did a lot of complaining at first but soon started to dive, explore, and play with each other. Once they were secure, I was able to leave them for longer periods of time.

We had never had young beavers in the beaver pen, and the lodge didn't seem secure enough for our little ones. They seemed to sense this and began to work on their own lodge. They first dug under the fence into a thicket of cactus, and proceeded to create their own safe area wth easy access to the pond. I was amazed by their ingenuity at the tender age of three months. Once the lodge was complete all was well and they settled down.

Every afternoon I try and take them for a long swim in our lap pool to build up their swimming and endurance skills. The first time we went for a long swim Río was so exhausted he had to be carried to bed. He can now easily beat me across the 47-foot sprint. Arroyo, on the other hand, continues to outdo us all in speed and incurrence. Her favorite rest lap technique is to hold onto my hair as I swim underwater laps.

We had one traumatic incident before the cactus was secured by fencing. I had ended up in the ER in Laredo for a day due to dehydration after a bout of intestinal flu. I begged the doctor to let me go home as I worried about being away from the kits. He agreed, as long as I spent the day and received six hours of IV fluids. I tried not to worry too much as my body slowly rehydrated. On arriving home and rushing to check the beavers, I found Arroyo missing and a very distraught brother. I knew she couldn't be far as the area she was loose in was also fenced.

Robert, Río, and I began hunting for her in the fading light. Río seemed to follow her scent trail in and out of the storage shed and around the yard. We knew she had to be somewhere secure and soon found her asleep under the house. Our reunion was very touching and as a treat I took them swimming in our lap pool. As we swam together Arroyo verbalized her experiences of the day while Río and I clung to here and listened intently.

As they mature, the need for my company is diminishing, which is as it should be. I am always amazed by their ingenuity and intelligence. They are both very cautious and shy. If they hear strangers they keep hidden and only come out when they recognize my voice. They take turns hauling food back into the lodge and will take food to each other if one doesn't want to venture out. I dread the day they must leave and become free wild beavers.

 

( The Zapata Wildlife Rescue Center can be contacted by mail at 6812 STOP 68A, Zapata , TX 78076-2913 , by phone at (956) 765-8526, or e-mail at dreams@zapata.border.net. Those interested in visiting should call ahead for directions .)