May 12, 2009
10:24 p.m., Tuesday
The ground is pretty dry as I bump the pickup truck through another drainage to reach the prairie dog colony we call The South Exclosure. The sky is partly cloudy, and the wind is starting to increase. The grass is greening up from all the April precipitation. I turn on my spotlight and begin searching.
I spot a badger, and he quickly scurries into a burrow. I turn the pickup off and approach the burrow for a closer look. Now, I’m not afraid of the dark, ghosts, werewolves or much else, but if you’ve ever heard a badger hiss and growl, it will make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. I decide that a closer look isn’t really necessary.
May 13, 2009
2:11 a.m., Wednesday
Wind will sometimes reduce black-footed ferret activity and tonight is no exception. I’ve seen nothing until a male pops his head up, and I catch a glimpse of his eyeshine. I can tell it’s a male by the size of his head, and I quickly set a trap.
I return to check the trap, and he is captured. Not wasting any time, I grab my microchip reader, get a reading on his microchip and release him back into the burrow. Back in the pickup truck I record the information on my data sheet, including his microchip number, 082*593*609, and I cross-check his information. Male, number 06-001, meaning he was the first kit captured in 2006, and he hasn’t been seen since then.
Despite considerable effort in 2007 and 2008, this ferret has not been located in 918 days. That means either 06-001 is very elusive or he was living on another prairie dog colony that we don’t search very much.
I wish 06-001 could talk. I would love to interview him. Where have you been? Did you find any females during your travels? What kind of danger have you seen? Do you live somewhere else but return to the colony of your birth every spring to breed?
I would inundate him with dozens of questions, and my curiosity would still not be satisfied. But 06-001 cannot talk and his secrets will remain his own. All I can do is collect the data for that time and location, a mere fraction of his life. The rest is up to me to piece together.