For Mainers, rural living means learning to coexist with wildlife

Suffice it to say, people who pay taxes in Maine’s rural towns also pay a price for living in proximity to wildlife. To the point that discussions about property damage by deer, woodchucks, raccoons, beavers, wild turkeys, Canada geese, squirrels and such are constant in general stores, filling stations, post offices and barber shops. And as you may well know, the suggestions for controlling the culprits are imaginative and practical, but not always lawful.

However, allowing that people are quick to blame anything and everything for problems they create – particularly when that which is deemed to be culpable is incapable of defending itself – let’s be honest here and point the finger of blame in the right direction: Suburban sprawl is accountable for the problems and conflicts associated with homes encroaching on wildlife habitats.

Allowing that wild animals are opportunists, it’s more than likely that a backyard garden growing in Etna or Glenburn will be harvested prematurely. In all probability, as soon as the crops break ground. Let’s face it, no self-respecting deer or woodchuck would pass up fresh cucumbers or green beans to eat grass. Think about it, would you drink beer when there’s bourbon on the bar?

So it goes throughout suburbia, where skunks dig up lawns, raccoons break down corn stalks and topple trash cans, coyotes kill cats, squirrels invade houses and beavers dam brooks, thereby flooding roads, fields and woodlots. And then the wannabe country folk wail, “Something has to be done about these animals.” Of course, reminding them that the animals were there first brings responses like, “Well, they can go live someplace else.”

Trouble is, crowding animals into someplace else only compounds the problems: Habitats are degraded, available feed is depleted and wildlife becomes increasingly bold in rummaging for human handouts, so to speak.

Unfortunately, as the rising tide of development flows into rural areas, it becomes obvious that few people regard the furred and feathered inhabitants thereabouts as important. For example, at a town meeting to discuss development of a wetland, it wouldn’t be surprising to hear someone say, “What good is that bog? It’s just a breeding ground for mosquitoes and, besides, the frogs and turtles in there don’t pay taxes.”

Let’s just say that people who make such absurd statements are to be pitied. Obviously, they don’t understand that the delicate balance of nature’s scales depends on the interacting weights of everything from mosquitoes to moose to people. The worth of wetlands to environmental and human health cannot be overstated.

Anti-hunting sentiment is, of course, a factor in the conflicts evolving from wildlife and human life cohabiting on rural real estate. Simply put, the elimination of hunting by posted land allows wildlife to overpopulate. Hence, the term, “nuisance animals.” Moreover, burgeoning wildlife populations result in outbreaks of diseases such as rabies and, more recently, Lyme disease. In that regard, the importance of regulated hunting and trapping is obvious. Both are essential to controlling and maintaining healthy wildlife populations.

Without question, the most dreadful problem attendant to people and wildlife competing for the same space occurs on roads, where, increasingly and often fatally, motorists collide with moose and deer. As disturbing as that is in terms of human life, it has to be said that the amount of road-killed wildlife is appalling. Especially at this time of year.

Attracted by fresh grass growing along the shoulders and medians of major routes and highways, herbivorous species are subjected to fatal games of roadway roulette. And, owing to suburban sprawl, rushing streams of vehicles now flow along town roads that had only trickles of traffic a few years ago. Accordingly, the incidence of road kills has resulted in the old question, “Why did the chicken cross the road?” being answered with, “To prove to woodchucks and raccoons that it can be done.”

Be especially watchful for wildlife along roads at this time of year. In addition to providing fresh feed, springtime is mating season for most species, which means the animals are single-minded. Turtles, for instance, often venture onto roads in their searches for warm gravel in which to lay eggs. As an aside, I still think about the pair of mated foxes that recently visited my backyard. Wearing coats of prime fur, the foxes glowed like jack o’ lanterns in the amber light of the late-afternoon sun. To say that I was saddened when one of them was killed while crossing the road within a stone’s throw of my house would be understatement.

Admittedly, I wince at the sight of road-killed wildlife. With the exception of deer and moose that may provide edible meat, depending on how badly the animals are damaged, road kills amount to nothing but waste. If an accurate accounting of animals so killed were available, it surely would be disgusting. I wouldn’t want to see it.

Clearly, the continuous encroachment of civilization is forcing wild animals to share their territories with people. Take a look around. Practically every rural road in this neck of the woods is lined with signs and lot numbers indicating subdivisions and developments. And as those areas become populated, people will be confronted with wildlife-related problems that are part and parcel to living in the country but, unfortunately, aren’t always considered in the modern concept of country living.

It’s safe to say that more wildlife is observed in rural backyards than is seen on trips down the Allagash Wilderness Waterway. The reason being that animals relegated to living in suburbia, rather than going someplace else, have become accustomed to people and therefore aren’t as wary of man as the critters living along the Allagash. In all fairness, however, it has to be said that, since the outdoors has become fashionable, wildlife inhabiting Maine’s hinterlands is being pressured by today’s highly mobile hunters, fishermen, snowmobilers, hikers, bikers, campers, rafters, canoeists, kayakers and the like.

Personally, I don’t have any problems living in proximity to the deer, foxes, woodchucks, skunks, squirrels, raccoons, partridges, woodcock, waterfowl, muskrats, frogs, toads, turtles, wild turkeys, songbirds of all descriptions, and now and then a transient moose or a coyote that inhabit the fields and woods behind my house. The way I figure it is, they were here first.

Turkey talk

Now that Maine’s wild turkey hunt has taken wing, Lincoln Hawes, a dairy farmer down Union way, urges bow hunters to recover arrows shot into agricultural fields.

Unfortunately, Mr. Hawes has found pieces of broken arrows imbedded in bales of hay. The arrows were not shot into the bales, but were cut up and gathered by baling machines.

Obviously, the sharp metal pieces could seriously injure livestock that eat the hay, as well as the people handling it.

Responsible bow hunters will consider Mr. Hawes’s timely information as a reminder that the future of Maine’s hunting traditions depends largely on sportsman-landowner relations.

Tom Hennessey’s columns and artwork can be accessed on the BDN internet page at www.bangornews.com. E-mail: thennessey@bangordailynews.net. Web site: www.tomhennessey.com.