Unlikely Friendships

by Jennifer S. Holland

  Eventually the pandas were weaned, but for a long time after, their surrogate-mother dog lingered outside the Panda House, trying to get back in. Zoo staff members were touched to see how the dog’s protective instinct held strong even after the bears outgrew their need for her care.

  For a time, the dog and all of “her” offspring lived together at the zoo, where visitors could marvel at the interspecies group. Once the bears could crawl, Li walked the whole family and let them exercise for hours each day. “The pups—both panda and dog—climbed and played like naughty boys,” Li says.

  {ZIMBABWE, 2007}

  The Rhinoceros, the Warthog, and the Hyena

  WARTHOG

  KINGDOM: Animalia

  PHYLUM: Chordata

  CLASS: Mammalia

  ORDER: Artiodactyla

  FAMILY: Suidae

  GENUS: Phacochoerus

  SPECIES: P. africanus

  BLACK RHINOCEROS

  KINGDOM: Animalia

  PHYLUM: Chordata

  CLASS: Mammalia

  ORDER: Perissodactyla

  FAMILY: Rhinocerotidae

  GENUS: Diceros

  SPECIES: D. bicornis

  HYENA

  KINGDOM: Animalia

  PHYLUM: Chordata

  CLASS: Mammalia

  ORDER: Carnivora

  FAMILY: Hyaenidae

  GENUS: Hyaena

  SPECIES: H. brunnea

  A rhino, a warthog, and a hyena walk into the bedroom…the lead-in for a dreadful joke? Nope. It’s an actual scene from the Imire Game Reserve in Zimbabwe, where these three species for a time were housemates and playmates alongside a family of humans.

  It started with the rhino, Tatenda. For years, Jude Travers and her family had been successfully breeding black rhinoceroses for national parks, an effort called the Black Rhino Conservation Project. This species is extremely endangered, with only about 4,000 animals left in the wild, so every individual is a precious thing. One horrible night, poachers seeking rhino horns, which are highly valued in traditional Asian medicine and as decorative items, stole onto the Imire property and killed the entire herd, even though the rhinos had been dehorned surgically to dissuade just this type of attack. When the Traverses arrived on the scene, baby Tatenda, born on the ranch three months before, was cowering beneath some straw, the only survivor. He was covered in his parents’ blood and in shock from the ordeal. The loss of the herd was devastating, but Jude and her family had to quickly set aside their sorrow and anger and focus on getting Tatenda back on her feet.

  Enter Poggle, the warthog. Shortly before the rhino massacre, “a little pincushion of a warthog joined the household,” recalls Jude. “He was the size of my hand, and with just a sniff, he instantly recognized the baby rhino as a future friend and companion.” The timing couldn’t have been better, as Tatenda would rely heavily on Poggle’s affection—as well as that of Jude Travers—as he healed from his emotional wounds.

  Finally came the hyena, Tsotsi, another orphan Travers rescued about ten months later. “He was the devil initially, with his beady little eyes and nocturnal ways, hiding out in his cave (a blanket-covered basket),” Jude says. “It took some months for the friendship to develop; it’s a slow-going process for a hyena to learn trust.”

  Under Jude’s affectionate care, the trio thrived and soon took to one another like siblings. On any given Saturday morning, the whole mess of them could be found in the Traverses’ bedroom—the hog under the sheets, the rhino with his chin on Jude’s lap for a scratch, and the hyena tucked away beneath the bed. Together with their human caretakers, the bizarre trio would laze about before breakfast. At (human) mealtime, they’d often saunter to the table and demand milk, treats, or another round of affection. Out in the garden, the unconventional herd would chase and play-fight (Tsotsi was often the instigator, with nips to Poggle’s backside), munch flowers, and nap together under the mulberry trees. And the three would go on walkabouts in the bush, sometimes with Jude or another Travers leading the pack and an orange house cat bringing up the rear.

  Eventually, the Travers family made preparations to release Tatenda and Poggle together in a wilder part of Imire about eight miles away. Both needed to get on with more natural lives among their own kind. (Tsotsi, still a bit young to mate, would remain with the Travers family for the time being.) For Jude it was like turning away loved ones—the rhino, especially, held a big place in her heart—but she knew it was right for the animals. “It’s a tragedy when human actions result in orphans that need this kind of care,” Jude says. “Being able to hand-rear them and then put them back into their natural environment, where they can rely on their true instincts, that’s the ultimate goal.”

  The transition of rhino and warthog to the reserve land was a success. They rambled in tandem at first, but eventually the hog “went wild,” mated, and produced three little pigs of her own. Tatenda eventually turned his attention to other rhinos on the 11,000-acre property, where he is “adored by all the girls” (girl rhinos, that is), Jude says. Tsotsi, who had been left alone after his friends had been transitioned to the wild, wandered off into the bush one day and never returned.

  {MAINE, U.S.A., 2009}

  The Rottweiler and the Wolf Pup

  WOLF

  KINGDOM: Animalia

  PHYLUM: Chordata

  CLASS: Mammalia

  ORDER: Carnivora

  FAMILY: Canidae

  GENUS: Canis

  SPECIES: C. lupus

  ROTTWEILER

  The rottweiler, which originated in Germany, is one of the oldest herding breeds, dating back to the Roman Empire when they helped herd cattle for the Roman legion.

  The birth of the wolf pup was totally unexpected. Staff at the Kisma Preserve in Mt. Desert, Maine, thought the young adult pair too young to breed, so they weren’t watching for a pregnancy. But then, out came a pup—born to a mother not yet mature enough to understand her role as parent. “There was no aggression,” says the preserve’s director, Heather Grierson, “but she had no maternal instinct whatsoever. She just didn’t know what to do with it.” Staff members at the preserve were used to bringing work home with them. In this case, Heather decided to offer her house to rear the baby animal, a helpless bundle with eyes still tightly shut.

  Ulrok the rottweiller was there to greet them when Heather arrived with her tiny charge. “Right from the beginning, he took excessive interest,” Heather says. “I misinterpreted it at first, thinking he might get overly rough. Plus, he’s huge and young and clumsy and might have hurt her by mistake. But he didn’t. Instead, he was amazingly maternal.” When the puppy whimpered, “he wanted to clean her top to butt, normally the mother’s job. Ulrok simply took over. If he could have nursed her, he would have.”

  The wolf was completely responsive to the rottie’s overtures, happy for the attention. And after realizing Ulrok wasn’t content unless the pup was within licking reach, Heather let them share a bed so they could cuddle. The still-awkward pup tried to play with the big dog, and even licked Ulrok’s mouth and chewed his tongue to try to get him to regurgitate food, as wolves do in the wild. “He’d neutralize her with his paw if she got too excited, but Ulrok was so patient with her!”

  The pup’s wolflike ways showed at mealtime as well. When it comes to food, wolves and well-fed domestic dogs are very different animals—not so much in what they like to eat, but in the lengths to which they’ll go to protect their lunch. Any self-respecting wolf challenged for her food will curl her lip and snarl, eyes wild and stance wide. The pup did the same, and Ulrok respected her space. “Here was this five-pound pup growling at this 120-pound dog, and he’d just back off and let her eat,” says Heather. “People think that if you raise a wolf in captivity, it’ll be like a pet dog. That’s not true. They are hardwired in different ways.”

  That difference in temperament and behavior is one reason Heather wanted to make sure the wolf was exposed to her own species as soon as possible. So
when the time was right, the pup was introduced to an old female wolf at the preserve named Morticia, who had been living alone for years. Happily, the two bonded from the start. “The pup breathed new life into the old wolf, who became more active having a young animal around. She was soon regurgitating food for her and teaching her wolf mannerisms and behaviors,” says Heather. More convinced than ever that the pup knew what she was, the preserve staff felt confident in plans to integrate her into one of their captive wolf packs when the day came that elderly Morticia would no longer be there for her young companion.

  As for Ulrok, whose breed is known for its herding and guarding instincts, he’s now offered his parenting services to numerous animals at the facility, including tiger cubs, a baby gibbon, and even an injured leopard tortoise. “He really is the peace-love-and-happiness rottweiler of the world,” says Heather. “He was just destined for this life.”

  {ISRAEL, 2000}

  The Salty Dog and the Dolphins

  BOTTLENOSE DOLPHIN

  KINGDOM: Animalia

  PHYLUM: Chordata

  CLASS: Mammalia

  ORDER: Cetacea

  FAMILY: Delphinidae

  GENUS: Tursiops

  SPECIES: T. truncatus

  On the south side of Eilat in Israel, where the Red Sea creeps onto sandy, tourist-packed shores, a shaggy dog took a leap of faith.

  His name was Joker, and one warm day in the spring of 2000 he simply showed up at Dolphin Reef, a beachy tourist attraction specializing in encounters with the popular marine mammals. He belonged to a family in town, but he seemed more at home on the Reef’s wooden pier overlooking the sea.

  At first, the owners weren’t happy about their canine visitor. They were concerned that he’d chase the cats, chickens, and peacocks that lived on the property. But Joker kept coming—traveling every day from wherever he laid his head at night—and never raised a paw to the other animals. In fact, he seemed utterly disinterested in all species but one: the dolphins.

  Dolphin Reef has a population of eight bottlenose dolphins all fathered by a male named Cindy, the so-called Don Juan of the pod. (Yes, “Cindy” is a male.) At times the animals have been given free access to the open sea and allowed to choose between the Reef and the wild. So while they do encounter humans and receive food, their behaviors remain quite natural—including their play.

  Those acrobatics held Joker’s interest for many days. He sat on the dock and observed the dolphins as they gathered and squealed and splashed and rocketed through the waves. Then one day during feeding time, Joker abandoned his dry observation post and leaped in.

  The dolphins appeared to welcome the dog into their world, so after that first leap his swims became routine. For a time, the Reef staff tied Joker up during feedings to keep him from distracting the dolphins as they ate. Soon the pup realized that he was welcome in the water any time but during a meal. He learned to read the aquatic mammals’ signals and “would jump in only when the dolphins were teasing him or inviting him,” says Tal Fisher, one of the dolphin trainers.

  Joker became a bit of a star, and people who saw him making his daily sojourn from town would pick him up—despite his salty-dog stink—and drop him at his favorite spot. He always headed straight for the wooden pier above the water, where his playful friends would greet him.

  Eventually, the dog’s owners realized Joker was happiest at the Reef, and they let the mutt move in permanently with the facility owners so he’d have easy access to his aquatic playmates. To this day, he spends many nights sleeping on the dock, ready to start the morning by barking at the dolphins as they congregate below. Then he jumps into the water to frolic with them. “They react by swimming around him and splashing with their tails,” says Tal. “They even speak to him.” How dog barks and dolphin squeaks translate across species is a mystery. But the mutually curious animals seem to have discovered a shared language in play.

  {PENNSYLVANIA, U.S.A., 2008}

  The Seeing-Eye Cat and the Blind Mutt

  Who hasn’t wondered at the amazing partnerships between seeing-eye dogs and the people they help navigate through a dark world? Dogs are specially trained to be the eyes of the blind, and remarkable friendships ensue from this very intimate experience between two species.

  But have you ever heard of a seeing-eye cat? Here’s one case, of a tabby named Libby. She was not only self-trained to assist the blind, her charge wasn’t even human—she was canine.

  Libby, a stray cat, was adopted by Terry and Debra Burns of northeastern Pennsylvania in 1994. No bigger than a baseball when the Burnses brought her home, the tiny cat adapted well to her new surroundings, including Cashew, the lab mix that was already living there. Raised together, the animals got along fine, but for most of their lives they had limited interactions.

  Many hospitals have dogs and cats “on staff” to help with patients dealing with a number of ailments, from dementia to high blood pressure.

  But around age 12, Cashew began to lose her sight. And as the dog’s vision degenerated, Libby the cat suddenly became protective of her lifelong housemate. She’d bed down in the door of the dog kennel where Cashew slept, seeming like a devoted caregiver as the old girl napped behind her. She’d hang out just beneath Cashew’s chin as the unseeing pooch maneuvered through house or yard. Together they’d approach a food dish or find a sunny spot on the patio to share. Everywhere Cashew went Libby was there to guide her. They seemed to communicate, Terry says. “It was as if Libby would say, ‘Hey, watch out for that bench there,’ or, ‘Here’s your water dish!’” The cat also began showing up along the route where Terry walked Cashew, sometimes watching from a distance, other times padding along beside them—“letting the dog know she was nearby, watching over her,” he says. “They only got closer and closer as time went on.”

  When Cashew finally passed away, at nearly 15 years old, Libby seemed to wonder where he had disappeared to, and would go looking in the dog’s old haunts. She never took to the other family dog in the same affectionate way. No other companion, it would seem, could ever replace the unlikely one she’d had in that old blind mutt.

  {CANADA, 1992}

  The Sled Dog and the Polar Bear

  POLAR BEAR

  KINGDOM: Animalia

  PHYLUM: Chordata

  CLASS: Mammalia

  ORDER: Carnivora

  FAMILY: Ursidae

  GENUS: Ursus

  SPECIES: U. maritimus

  SLED DOGS

  The Siberian husky and the Alaskan malamute are two of the best-known purebred sled dogs, and are known for both their stamina and speed.

  In the far reaches of the icy north, in a Canadian town called Churchill, a photographer witnessed a stunning interspecies interaction.

  Churchill is known for its polar bears—a particularly bold population living in unusually close proximity to people. The line between wilderness and civilization is often blurred as the bears venture from their icy feeding grounds into town to pick through trash for an easy meal. And in a place where dogsleds are a common form of transport, the scrounging bears are bound to meet up with canines from time to time.

  Rogue bears have been known to kill sled dogs. So one November day, when photographer Norbert Rosing noticed a huge male approaching an area where several dozen Eskimo dogs were corralled, he worried for their safety. “Most of the dogs started barking, pulling on their chains, as the bear got close,” he recalls. But there was one dog that stayed calm, standing apart from the others. As Norbert watched, the bear moved toward the unruffled pup. And then, most unexpectedly, the bear lay down, rolled over, and reached out his massive paw, as if asking the dog to play while promising no harm.

  The dog was initially wary, but as his confidence grew the two began to play. Both were gentle at first—the bear pulled on the dog’s leg, then lightly bit its hip, and the dog responded in kind. When the bear tested his playmate with a harder bite, the dog yelped in pain. “The bear released him right away, then ca
me back and started playing again, more carefully,” Rosing says. “By the end, they were scrapping like old buddies, with the bear lying on his back and the dog jumping on his belly. The bear would take the dog’s head between his paws as they wrestled around. It was an incredible sight.”

  The animals roughhoused for about twenty minutes before the bear left. But for several days afterward he returned and the pair resumed their game. Similar interactions have since been reported in Churchill, sometimes with multiple bears playing with multiple dogs at once. Bears have even been seen protecting the dog pack by running off less affable relatives.

  Unfortunately for all concerned, these kinds of interactions with polar bears—rare as they are—may one day be a thing of the past, remembered only through stories like this one and photographs. Climate change is melting the Arctic ice at an alarming rate. Many scientists warn that polar bears, which live largely within the Arctic Circle, are declining in numbers so great that they are vulnerable to extinction in the near future. The bears rely on vast expanses of ice and big floes to use as platforms from which to hunt seals. As that ice becomes scarcer, the carnivores will suffer—and will no doubt be more likely to lumber into towns like Churchill looking for food, not friendship, from sled dogs.