Beasts in our yards, beasts in our minds

 kw: book reviews, nonfiction, animals, pests, animal behavior, sociology, attitudes, risks

It's funny. We have the words "vermin" and "pests" for animals we don't like, but no single-word terms for animals we like. We get by with "animal allies" and "domestic animals", plus "pets" for our most-loved. Most literature about animals either advises us how to get rid of the ones we don't want around, or idolizes certain "charismatic megafauna". There are clubs of bird watchers and butterfly collectors and wildlife photographers (even when the "wildlife" is found in your neighborhood). Could there be clubs for those who care about bats, or beetles, or (shudder) roaches?

The more citified we are, the more likely we are to fear or despise animals—other than the pets or "companion animals" we dote upon. Even some bird watchers call city pigeons "rats with feathers" and some of us go to great lengths to keep raccoons out of our garbage containers (Hint: If you have room for it, use a compost pile for everything that's even slightly decomposable).

Sometimes I've wondered, "What do animals think of us?" If you could converse with one, what would it have to say? Perhaps when a monkey sees a human, it thinks of her as a funny sort of hairless, tailless monkey. When a fish, even a shark, sees a human swimming, it probably thinks it is seeing a particularly clumsy seal. Perhaps the garter snake in the garden would advise you, "Don't spray the veggies. I don't like my insects covered in pesticides."

In her book Beauty of the Beasts: Rethinking Nature's Least Loved Animals, Jo Wimpenny asks us to look at animals differently, and in terms familiar to them. For example, when a moth follows you in through your front door, it isn't "invading". For most moths, everything inside your house is useless. It cares nothing for the furniture, the carpets, the lamps, the pictures on the wall (except as something to hide behind). If it is a female of one of the five or six species called "clothes moth", and she finds her way to a closet with some wool garments, if she thinks anything, it is, "Oh, goody! Oodles of stuff for my babies to eat," as she lays her eggs on your favorite sweater (Hint: woolens that you value are best kept in a cedar chest or cedar-lined closet, or even a chest freezer).

You might say, "You're just giving in to the beasts!" I am actually giving in to the math. There are about 11,000 species of moth so far known in the US, and more than 150,000 worldwide. Only about five have wool eating larvae. Most species outnumber humans thousands to one. There are probably several thousand moths the size of a thumbnail or smaller in my yard right now. In the evening, when they are airborne, getting into or out of the house must be done quickly, or at least one will get inside. If I can, I'll either catch it to release outside, or crush it. Probably half escape my attempts, but I can trust the house spiders to get most of them. And yes, we do have a cedar chest.

Ah, yes, the house spiders. Based on what I find in their webs, they mainly eat fruit flies and midges and the occasional housefly. Yesterday as I left the house, I felt a tiny thing land on my hand. I was thankful it was not a mosquito, but a newborn spider with a body no larger than a poppy seed. I blew it off into an Azalea bush, with a wish, "Catch lots of bugs for us." I knew it had several siblings still inside. I don't evict a spider until it is too big to stand on a nickel. Fortunately, my wife is not creeped out by having indoor spiders. That's good thing, because no house is free of them. Not one! They stay in odd corners, weaving tiny cobwebs, eating most of the tiny critters that get inside, and each other (population control!).

The book mentions that spiders are known to dream. I don't know how researchers figured that out! Can you imagine what they dream about?

The ones that were studied are jumping spiders (see this article in Harvard Gazette). While sleeping, they twitch their legs and their eyes move (I hadn't before known that spiders' eyes can move!). Just like REM in mammals and other animals.

Ms Wimpenny doesn't start with insects and spiders, though, she starts with fearsome critters, the ones that could eat us, or at least do a lot of harm: sharks and crocodiles. The movie Jaws set back both research and acceptance of sharks by decades. Earlier treatments (not mentioned in the book) by Jacques Cousteau that depicted sharks as mostly bloodthirsty set the stage for Jaws and the more recent Shark Week.

It's interesting that people fear sharks the most. I heard this joke when I was a graduate student:

Families are enjoying the beach at Cape Cod, when someone yells, "Shark!" Everyone runs out of the water, hops in the car, starts the engine to run the air conditioner, and has a smoke.

This was 50 years ago when almost everyone smoked, and the first "no smoking" restaurants were just getting started. Diseases caused by smoking kill half a million Americans yearly, and auto exhaust at that time probably killed half that many. The number of people killed by sharks in a typical year? Two.

The fact is, sharks are more social than we knew in the past. The author tells of social and even caring behaviors. Crucially, there are many species of shark, and they differ a lot. But even the "king of sharks", the great white shark, is a somewhat social species. They don't think of humans as prey. They probably don't think about us at all. Nudging and biting are how they gather information. The animal that does consider us prey is the crocodile. One Australian told the author that if someone jumps off a certain bridge and tries to swim just the 100 meters or so to shore, they won't make it. A saltwater crocodile will "take" them within a minute or less. But if you're in Australia and someone hollers, "Croc!", everyone cranes their neck for a look.

Bat-phobia is not as prevalent as shark-phobia, but is equally real. People think bats are creepy, even if they're too young to remember the spate of Dracula movies of the late Twentieth Century. We are generally slow-moving and bats probably think of us as furniture…furniture that is ill-equipped to catch food.

I spent half a summer doing geology in Nevada. There was a bright light on a tall pole, far from our bunkhouse. Moths and other insects swarmed around it. So did bats, catching them. Sometimes one of us would get a flat pebble and throw it up spinning into the light. A bat would dive-bomb it until it was about a foot or two away. Then its echolocation would be able to discriminate that the rock wasn't a moth, and the bat would swerve off. We were never able to induce a bat to capture a pebble.

Strangely, for a book intended to make us feel less fearful and more "friendly" towards animals, particularly the creepy or disgusting ones, the last chapter before an Epilogue tells of cute animals behaving badly. I won't go into it; much of it is gruesome or grotesque. Think abusive penguins and otters. Really abusive! The author's intent is to emphasize that animals don't live by our rules. I lived among rattlesnakes on that field trip mentioned above. I saw them every day. They were afraid of us humans. When I saw one it was usually retreating. Since it was summer, they never came inside; they like warmth. Had I been so foolish as to camp on the ground in cold weather, it's possible I might have awoken one morning with a snake curled up in my sleeping bag. I knew better!

Do you like the big cats? Many people do, but of course, at least in America, we enjoy them from the safety of a zoo enclosure. Where people and big cats live near one another, it's another story. Just in India, about 70 people are killed yearly by tigers. That's ten times as many as sharks kill, worldwide. This cartoon is based on one I saw sixty years ago (All these cartoons were produced using GPT Image 2 in the OpenArt site). 

There is an uphill battle to improve the public's perceptions of animals. AI will probably accentuate this, because LLM's like ChatGPT or Gemini have been trained on human text, much of which has outdated, inaccurate views of animals. Our literature is filled with over-cutified or overly villainous animals. Hardly any balanced depictions exist.

Other than humans, what is the most deadly animal? The mosquito. But out of thousands of species of mosquito, only a few carry diseases. Unfortunately, one of them is malaria, and others include West Nile encephalitis and chikungunya (bone-break fever). But not all mosquitoes need blood; many use plant sap. Of the bloodsuckers, few will utilize human blood. To get rid of malaria, however, getting rid of Anopheles mosquitoes isn't the right approach. Effective vaccines against the parasite the mosquitoes carry are just being released, after many years of research. I hope it will be cheap enough to allow near-eradication of the parasite. Meanwhile, mosquito nets are the fallback measure. Further, bats and many kinds of birds subsist on mosquitoes and other flying insects. Kill the insects and what will happen to them?

All of nature is sets of interlocking ecosystems. Cut one link, and it can shut down a whole chain, or hinder it for many years until it readjusts. We are seeing that all around us. I think the key to rewiring our attitude towards nature has two parts: (1) Recognize that we are part of nature, and (2) Discard the notion that any animals think like we do; they don't recognize boundaries that we hold inviolable.

Here's hoping that this book makes a difference!