Her papillon Mademoiselle Giselle, meanwhile, was round with pups. And perhaps because of her impending motherhood, the dog was oddly drawn to the unfamiliar squirming creature her owner had brought home. “I went on an errand,” Debby recalls, “and when I got back, the kennel was empty.” Turns out “Maddie,” as Debby calls her, had pulled the swaddled squirrel through the dining room, down the hall, into the bedroom, and parked it next to her own bed. “She was there, guarding that squirrel like it was her own.”
Once Maddie gave birth, Debby expected the dog’s fascination with the squirrel to fade. Instead, her motherly need to be near the animal got stronger. She went looking for the squirrel just a day after her own pups were born. When Debby gave in and moved Finnegan into Maddie’s bed with the puppies, “Maddie started licking, just licking his little head. She was beaming, as if she felt whole now that all her babies were together. I think that a mother is always a mother. Those nurturing instincts are there even if the little one isn’t your own.”
As the puppies grew bigger and stronger than Finnegan, Debby began putting the squirrel outside so he could learn about the wild life she hoped he’d return to. Maddie would watch and wait for the squirrel to come back to the fold. Just around dusk, Finnegan would return to the house, scratch at the door, then nose-dive into the pack and roll around with the dogs. “It was like he was telling them all about his adventures of the day,” Debby recalls.
Eventually Finnegan returned to being a wild squirrel full time. When he stopped coming back, “I was sad, for me and for Maddie,” Debby says. “But our job was done.”
{ANTARCTICA, 2005}
The Photographer and the Leopard Seal
LEOPARD SEAL
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Carnivora
FAMILY: Phocidae
GENUS: Hydrurga
SPECIES: H. leptonyx
There is a saying that loving an animal awakens the human spirit. For Canadian photographer Paul Nicklen, just a brief encounter with one wild beast not only roused his soul but set it dancing. While on assignment for National Geographic magazine, Paul suited up in dive gear and entered the cold blue world of the leopard seal to document these magnificent, and sometimes fierce, marine mammals beneath the Antarctic ice. His goal was simple: Shoot as many photos as possible without being attacked by the thousand-pound territorial beasts, any one of which could easily kill him.
Historical writings by Antarctic explorers include mention of these massive seals threatening men, sometimes following their movements along ice floes, even trying to grab them. And in 2003, a leopard seal that may have been starving attacked a scientist and drowned her.
The animals’ ill-repute makes Paul’s experience that much more astounding. A twelve-foot female leopard seal not only took a liking to the interloper, she made efforts to nourish him.
She began the encounter by flashing Paul her wide-open jaws, a threat display that let him know his place without harming him. Then, her dominance established, the seal’s mood seemed to swing in Paul’s favor. She hovered near him in the water, swimming within arm’s reach, as if posing for the camera. In a most astonishing move, the seal hunted down and killed a penguin—its own prey—then offered it to Paul repeatedly, as if trying to feed one of her own young. “It seemed that she was worried about my health. I was clearly too slow a predator to take care of myself,” Paul recalls. When the photographer ignored the food offering (always wary of interacting with any wild animal more than necessary), “she brought me live penguins and would place them on my camera dome, then retrieve them for me when they escaped, blowing bubbles in my face as if exasperated by my passive nature.” Finally, she ate penguins in front of Paul, “showing me how it’s done.”
Her sleek beauty amazed Paul. The deadly power turned tender took his breath away. “My heart was pounding and I was elated every time she’d approach. It was the most remarkable interaction I’ve ever had,” he says.
Over the course of several days, this wild creature that dwarfed him in size and strength became a human photographer’s greatest companion. At the end of the shoot, “it was hard to leave her behind,” he says. “I’d experienced something unique and magical that I’d never forget.”
{TEXAS, U.S.A., 2009}
The Pit Bull, the Siamese Cat, and the Chicks
CHICKEN
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Galliformes
FAMILYM: Phasianidae
GENUS: Gallus
SPECIES: Gallus gallus
PIT BULL
Pit bulls often get a bad rap for being dangerous, but studies have shown that they are no more aggressive than other breeds: it’s the way they are raised that determines how they will be have.
SIAMESE CAT
originally from Siam, the siamese cat is considered to be one of the few “natural” breeds in existence, which means it developed entirely with out the intervention of humans.
Chicks dig sharky. The tiny cotton puffs perch on his back, peck at his snout, and use him as a raft in the pool. They’re also strangely fond of a Siamese-snowshoe cat called Max, who noses them into line. And Max and Sharky, well, since the cat put the dog in his place with a paw-slap or two, they’ve gotten along better than fine. To Helen Jürlau, an Estonian who moved to Texas, it’s a crazy circus of personalities—just the way she likes it.
She grew up on a farm raising pigs and cows, gathering eggs still warm from the hen. So when she moved to the States with her American husband, Helen was soon bringing animals back to the house, starting with a potbellied pig. “It made me feel at home,” she says. And as the zoo grew, the relationships among the animals took wonderful turns.
Sharky dove into fatherhood before he was a year old and was like an excited big brother to his pups. “He couldn’t wait to see them, even more than the female,” says Helen. “If I’d ask, ‘Where are your babies?’ his eyes would sparkle and he’d run off to look for them. He’s just in heaven when he’s surrounded by all his babies.” Those babies came to include Siamese cat Max and the batches of chicks that Helen gets each spring. “When he sees those chicks, his eyes grow huge and he wants to play,” she says. He doesn’t discriminate between furred and feathered. “I think he just wants to protect anything that’s small and helpless. Guinea pigs, rabbits, chicks, the pig, he just won’t leave them alone. Everyone gets kisses.”
Now, Helen photographs and videotapes the animals to share their bizarre friendships with the world. Some favorite scenes caught on film could be subtitled this way: Chicks line up atop dog. Chick slides down seated dog’s back. Dog, cat, and chicks cuddle together. Chicks ride cat. Cat nuzzles chicks. Dog and cat nap. Dog and chicks play in the pool. Cat slaps dog playfully while riding by on automatic vacuum cleaner. No doubt Helen’s is the only house on the block—in the world?—boasting such antics among its pets.
The animals don’t seem to mind being stalked by paparazzi; they just do their thing regardless of the audience. But the clearest bond is the one ever growing between dog and cat. “They make me laugh so much,” says Helen. “Sometimes Sharky and Max sit in exactly the same position, one paw stretched out straight and the other crunched inward, like they’re mocking each other.” And other times, she says, they sprawl out back to back by the pool, two friends just looking at the sky.
{GERMANY, 2009}
The Potbellied Piglet and the Rhodesian Ridgeback
RHODESIAN RIDGEBACK
The Rhodesian ridgeback is named for the ridge of hair that runs along its back in the opposite direction of the rest of its coat. Originally bred in South Africa to hunt lions, it is known for its bravery and stamina.
POTBELLIED PIG
The potbellied pig can make a great pet because of its intelligence. It can be housebroken and trained to walk on a leash. However, its almost constant desire for food can lead
to destructive “rooting,” which is when it uses its snout to dig or explore.
Here’s a dog that’s bred tough enough to hunt boar, bobcats, and bears. But give it a wrinkled-sausage of a piglet, and it turns into the tender motherly type.
One cold night in 2009, Roland Adam of Hoerstel, Germany, discovered a pair of recently born pigs on his twenty-acre property. One had already died of exposure and the other was a squirming handful of pinkish skin, chilled to the core, barely alive. A breeding pair of Vietnamese potbellied pigs—a squatter, denser variety of your standard barnyard porker—had taken up residence on Roland’s land years before; this was not the first time he had come across such gifts. But in this case he had to intervene, sure that the surviving baby would die from cold or hunger, or would be snatched up by foxes before morning. He tucked it under his sweater and brought it to the house he shared with Katjinga the Rhode-sian ridgeback.
The piglet became little Paulinchen, and Roland decided to hand her off to his dog, who had recently weaned her own litter of pups. It was a good move. Katjinga gave the piglet the soft-puppy treatment, keeping her clean and warm. The pig clearly felt right at home, even trying to nurse—though the dog was no longer producing milk. (Roland and his family took care of feedings.)
A few days later, with pig and hound getting along like mother and son, Roland discovered Paulinchen’s birth mother with the rest of her litter, all healthy. He thanked Katjinga for her service and returned the lost baby to the pig family, which eagerly accepted her.
Though the piglet bonded with Katjinga only briefly, it was at a crucial time for the newborn. Back in the porcine life, Paulinchen was a little different from her siblings—a bit tamer and more at ease with other animals. “She knows us and knows Katjinga,” Roland says. “When we see the pigs running around and we call to them, Paulinchen will put her head up and look.” Sometimes she and Katjinga have a quick nuzzle when the pigs come around sniffing out a meal.
Roland attributes Katjinga’s sweet nature to good training (ridgebacks need a lot of socialization) and to the special atmosphere in which they all live. “It is a peaceful area, mostly woodlands,” he says. “When there are hunters around, our farm is like a safe haven where animals come together.”
{MISSOURI, U.S.A., 2009}
The Rabbit and the Guinea Pig
GUINEA PIG
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Rodentia
FAMILY: caviidae
GENUS: Cavia
SPECIES: C. porcellus
RABBIT
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: lagomorpha
FAMILY: leporidae
GENUS: Oryctolagus
SPECIES: Oryctolagus cuniculus
Cuteness only gets you so far: occasionally, even the Easter bunny gets dumped. But sometimes pink-nosed holiday rejects in Missouri get taken home by Sheryl Rhodes and her daughter, Lauren. And those rescue rabbits get a sweet deal: the freedom to roam in their own room, loads of attention from their devoted owners, and similarly low-to-the-ground friends to pal around with.
In addition to two rabbits, the Rhodes family had a pair of guinea pigs, Timmy and Tommy. But when Tommy died, the owners decided to try introducing Timmy to the rabbits, which had a ten-by-twelve-foot room with food, litter boxes, and all the fixings for an uncomplicated existence. All three are lovers of crunchy vegetables and are litter trained. It seemed a perfect matchup.
A turtle also inched around the space, though he kept to himself.
“The rabbits had never really bonded with each other,” says Sheryl. “But when Timmy offered his companionship, especially to the one named Baby—the snubbed Easter bunny—we were thrilled. They really warmed up to each other. There were lots of nose touches and nuzzles between them.” If Baby was feeling spry and hopping around, Timmy would squeal and waddle after her, she says. “But mostly they were very lazy critters together, just lying around.”
When Sheryl or Lauren took Timmy out of the room for petting or grooming, Baby would hop around looking for him, poking her nose into spots where the pig might hide. Meanwhile, the rabbits had a cardboard box set up off the floor so they’d be able to get away from Timmy if they chose to. But within a short time, one of the animals chewed a hole in the bottom of the box. “Suddenly, Timmy was in there, too. I guess if Baby had wanted him out, she could have gotten rid of him. But she didn’t seem to mind.”
{OHIO, U.S.A., 2009}
The Rat and the Cat
RAT
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Rodentia
FAMILY: Muridae
GENUS: Rattus
SPECIES: Rattus norvegicus
Rats. They’re filthy, disease-carrying pests that skitter through trash-strewn alleyways with those awful hairless tails trailing out behind them. Right?
Set aside such notions. Rats are actually smart little mammals with an unfair reputation for doing nothing but skulking about. True, the big brown ones peering from city sewers are hard to love. But just consider them as survivors. Cleaned up, their kind can make great pets. They’re also, of all nonrat things to be, ticklish, and they’ve been shown to experience convoluted dreams about recent happenings, just as humans do. And in the case of Peanut—a white rat owned by Maggie Szpot of Ohio—they are capable of becoming smitten with their mortal enemy, the cat.
Ranj the cat came to Maggie as a stray, so she expected that with rodents in the house, his hunting instinct would rear its feisty head. Not so! Ranj showed only curiosity toward the numerous rats Maggie rescued. Peanut and Mocha, a pair that Maggie got at the same time, were no exception. “When I first brought them home, I put them in a fenced-off area, but Ranj just jumped right in and started sniffing them. He was very calm—there was no aggression at all,” she says.
Soon after they met, Maggie says, “Peanut developed a special liking for Ranj and began to follow him everywhere. Ranj liked her back, but would sometimes try to avoid his pesky friend by hopping onto anything off the ground. Peanut would just climb up after him!”
Nowadays, Peanut loves to snuggle with Ranj and will crawl fully under the cat’s haunches when he’s seated. The rat appears soothed by the cat’s presence, and will close her eyes as she snuggles up to his furry warmth. Ranj sometimes gives Peanut a tongue bath or rubs his head against her when she gets close to him, Maggie says. In return, Peanut licks Ranj’s face or scrambles over his stretched-out body. Though Mocha is less friendly to the cat and will chase and bite his feet, he joins Peanut and Ranj at mealtime. It’s an odd scene: two rodents munching kibbles from Ranj’s bowl as the cat stretches his neck down between them for a bite, “each without a care in the world.”
{CHINA, 2009}
The Red Pandas and the Mothering Mutt
RED PANDA
KINGDO:Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Carnivora
FAMILYM: Ailuridae
GENUS: Ailurus
SPECIES: A. fulgens
They’re extremely precious, these tiny red pandas, and not just because of their high cuteness factor. In the wild, hunting and habitat loss threaten the species with extinction, and Ailurus fulgens is protected by law. So the success story of these two panda cubs in a Chinese zoo is sweet indeed.
Red pandas, also known as lesser pandas, are only distantly related to their big black-and-white namesakes. And they’re more closely related to raccoons than to dogs, but these two took to a canine “mom” as if she were the closest of kin.
The mother panda had recently been moved from the Shaanxi Zoo to the Taiyuan Zoo in northern China’s Shaanxi Province. Beneath her furry plumpness, the bear was pregnant, unbeknownst to zookeepers, and in her new environment she gave birth prematurely. Under the stressful circumstances, the
mother abandoned her pups, leaving humans scrambling to find a way to keep the babies from starving.
Caretaker Li Jin Bang acted as surrogate parent for the first few days after the pups were born. Like any good mother, he fed them every two hours, day and night, with syringes full of specially formulated powdered milk. Meanwhile, the zoo turned to the local media for help finding a more appropriate panda substitute. The staff hoped to find a smallish dog that had given birth recently, with plenty of milk and a calm demeanor that would not frighten the new babies. (Dog milk is close enough in makeup to that of pandas that the young would get most of the nutrients they needed without supplements.) Fortunately, a supplier for the zoo who lived on a nearby farm heard the call and brought his scrappy little mixed-breed, who was heavy with milk for her own triplets, to the rescue. One of her own pups came along as well, to ease the transition and keep the mama dog focused.
Quickly the pandas learned to suckle from the canine, and she took to her new job naturally, sometimes even letting the pandas eat before her own pup got access. But the new mom was more than a food provider to the little bears. She treated them as her own, licking them at both ends to keep their bodily functions running smoothly. A red panda mother, who may give birth to up to four blind cubs at a time, will spend sometimes 90 percent of those first days nuzzling her young and getting to know their individual scents. Their adopted mom was similarly attentive when the pandas needed her most. And the bears, their eyes still squeezed tightly shut and their squeals barely audible, responded by slurping up her milk with gusto, growing healthy and strong.
Unlikely Friendships Page 7