Ringtail exposes herself

The secret to getting these pictures of a ringtail might have been a crab dinner last week. The next morning Shirlee woke up saying, "Do I smell garbage?" Half asleep and not smelling anything, I assumed
the question was a gentle message. "No dear, that must be me."

When I started to brew the coffee I knew what she was talking about. A powerful stench was coming from under the sink. I moved the reeking crab shells to the garage, where I was doing a project, and the stink increased even more during the day. Something had to be done. We couldn’t wait until garbage collection day. That’s when I got the idea. I crushed the shells in a plastic bag, transforming them into a gooey paste. Crab potion #9.

Late that afternoon I spooned the potion into some holes in an old cedar log where one of the cameras is set. Up to now the only visitors to this log had been a spotted skunk and mice, and I expected more pictures of the same. I was mighty pleased 24 hours later when I found this charming critter in 8 out of nine images!

I cropped the first shot, but the second one shows the full frame as she sniffs the tangy potion in the hole. After that she ate a bait mouse, but the camera was a little too close, and her head was partly out of the frame. Dang!

By the way, the ringtail plucked the mouse. There was a little pile of mouse fur at the foot of the log. As far as I know, that's a trait shared by cats, but not members of the raccoon family. No evidence that she sampled the potion, but it was still
potent.

Love is in the air?

The striped skunk mates in the winter. In January and February, the males ramble about looking for mates and often meet with misadventure when they cross busy highways. I have never gotten a picture of a family group or a pair of striped skunks, so this picture is a little unusual. There are two possibilities. A couple of skunks just happened to meet, or we are seeing a prelude to courtship. I favor the latter. It looks to me like the skunk in the foreground (a female?) is looking over its shoulder at the pursuer (an amorous male?).

More recently researchers have shown that stripped skunks den together in the winter--one male with a group of females.

No poodles tonight

A mountain lion and her half grown cub visited the suburbs of rural Magalia last night. The two cats seen here must have reached the ridge by some other route, or maybe they just skirted the camera trap's sensor. Anyway, it seems they gave up on sububan hunting early in the evening. The picture was taken at 12:24AM as they passed our house--heading back down into Butte Creek Canyon. . .which leads me to conclude that there were no poodles or other pets to be found for dinner. Mom sat down to lick her breast as she waited for her youngster--8 seconds later junior joined her and they resumed their stroll down the road.

Do skunk's scatter-hoard surplus food?

You know how the jackals and hyenas show up after the lion finishes its meal? Well, it looks like wood rats and deer mice here clean-up after mini-carnivores like Stinkarella, the spotted skunk.

This week the climbing skunk tackled and ate two gopher baits (Pics 1 and 2). The 2nd gopher (a big one) was gone in 45 minutes. The skunk then spent about 30 minutes coming and going, digging holes (pic 3), and checking out the cam (pic 4).

I didn’t give the digging much thought until I looked at the next 8 photos, which were triggered by 2 wood rats and a mouse (pics 5). The mouse was there first—an hour after the skunk’s exit. The rat made its appearance 3 hours later. It looks like the wood rat was digging where the skunk had dug. Stinkarella returned to the scene 25 minutes after the last wood rat photo (at 5:15AM), and stuck his head in the hole.

Hypothesis: the skunk "scatter hoards" its leftovers, just as a squirrel buries nuts. (Next time I’ll dig around to see what I find). Other animals "larder-hoard"--store a lot of food in one place. I haven't found any reference in the scientific literature about spotted skunks hoarding food. I admit the evidence is circumstantial, but maybe we're onto something.

A winsome skunk

I hadn't encountered Stinkarella, the spotted skunk since last February, but a few nights back she made an appearance to dig up 4 pieces of salmon skin. I buried the skin in an old woodpile of bull-dozed manzanita. It was created by Pacific Gas & Electric (PG&E) about 30-years ago. It's also a whistle stop for local small mammals. The smell of that salmon kept drawing her back that first night--she made 6 visits over an 8-hour period.

The pictures here were made the next night (9:11 PM, October 14), when I used two dead deer mice as bait. It took her 14 minutes to scarf the mice, during which time the camera took 21 pictures. A half hour later she was back to see if any more mice had appeared, and I got two more pics. It seems that's when she first noticed the camera. Five hours later the woodrat showed up to check out the scene. The pics were all taken at a considerable distance, so you are seeing the cropped images.

The fine art of scatology

I sent this photo to my old friend Brian Miller for help in identification. (Brian manages the Wind River Ranch in NE New Mexico). I found the scat on the trail next to the house. It was big and packed full of jackrabbit fur.

Brian answered: "Halfpenny says red fox scats are less than 18 mm wide (92% of the time), and coyote scats are between 18 mm and 25 mm wide (63% of the time). So it is too big for both of them. I use the sniff technique to separate felid, canid, and ursid scats. Every member of the canid family has that acrid, sharp smell. Pumas and bobcats have a smell just like domestic cats leave in the litter box. Bear scat smells like a musty old cigar. Of all the scents, I prefer bear. If the scat is still there, break it open and see if there is any scent left."

The timeless art of scat identificiation is a stepwise process starting with visual inspection, and usually ending with the sniff test. (The boy scout joke about the taste test is probably fiction, though biologists have shown that there are consistent differences in the pH of dog and cat poop.)

It is a moot point whether Brian lit and smoked the scat to get that cigar smell. But this all goes to show that identifying scats is truly a fine art. Like other paleolithic inventions such as cheese making, brewing, and the barbecue, scat identification is still alive and well in some quarters of modern society.

Coexistence at last

Checked the camera trap in the ravine today. A lot has changed since my last message about Sasquatch's contempt of cameras. This time there was no search and destroy mission when she arrived at the water hole, even though the camera was in plain sight. We seem to be co-existing at last.

After the depressing event last month, I wasn't about to leave another camera in the woods without added protection. I found the solution at the Dollar Tree Store. When you detach the magnet from this cheesy little security alarm its piercing scream sounds like an enormous German roller canary. Neighbor Richard and I installed the bear alarms on the camera traps. Spiked treadles serve as triggers.

I don't know if Bruin messed with the camera and got a blast from the "screaming canary" and pricked her bear paws. Maybe she was still satisfied with her last victory over technology. There were 14 bear pictures on the cam taken over the past 2 weeks. The bears made three different visits. Two series of shots were of the camera-eating Sasquatch, and one shot was of a cub drinking.

Sasquatch is into personal hygiene. Her ablutions start with a sitz-bath and peaceful reflection. Then she combs her hair. (The teats confirm that this is a she-bear.)