Animal Envy Page 10

  “Here is my lofty message: We in the animal kingdom give you beauty. Recall your beautiful pictures of the monarch butterflies and their fantastic flight of thousands of miles from and to that small territory in Mexico. Recall your legendary painter of beautiful birds, John James Audubon, whose pictures have been put in greatly popular books. Listen to the sounds of the whales communicating in the ocean depths recorded by Paul Winter. All around where there are songbirds singing, your moods must be positively affected.

  “We in the animal kingdom give you excitement: the books and movies about Tarzan of the Apes, the morality tales of Khalila wa Dimna, whose stories reappear in many Western cultures from their origins in ancient India and Persia, the animated cartoons and movies of Disney, the exotic programs of the Discovery Channel, especially those of animals hunting animals. Why, one attack by a mongoose of a cobra has been seen online billions of times all over the human world.

  “We give you jobs. The more you care about us—to save us, to learn about us, for your own medical advances, to make us your pets—the more human jobs you create that are not exportable. In South Africa, five of every hundred jobs are in tourism. Many serious tourists come to see lions, buffalos, leopards, elephants, and rhinos. In the U.S., think of the fast-growing occupations including pet therapists, pet manicurists, pet surgeons, and pet medicine manufacturers. Just imagine the future jobs from the rising zootic sickness industry.

  “Should you value us in these ways, you likely won’t spend so much energy destroying us and our habitats. Taken all the above together, your children will be even more fascinated with us in their glorious youthful imaginations. After all, forever, it seems, animals have pervaded the imaginative playing of children,” concluded the great condor.

  As it started to lift up from its pedestal into wide blue sky, the great condor exclaimed: “Gratitude is a two-way flight.”

  While the bird had made a few jarring points about how humans were trashing many habitats, another condor, who was perched with others in the wings, felt certain inhumane human practices should have been noticed. She suddenly swooped onto the momentarily vacant stage to have her say.

  She started talking about an annual festival in Coyllurqui, Peru, featuring a very cruel pitting of condors against bulls. It is called the Yawar Fiesta or Blood Festival, well named.“I was minding my own business in the mountains feeding on a couple of dead horses, which turned out to be bait to trap and capture me for the festival.

  “Humans lashed me in a bull ring on top of an enraged thousand-pound bull. Somehow this battle is supposed to represent the duality of the Andean culture connecting the celestial world and the earth. It certainly didn’t feel like that on top of a raging bull that I had to peck with my curved beak. I felt I had no choice and the bull thought I was trying to peck out his eyes. Thousands of people were shouting and waving as we spun around the bull ring. Together we looked like a strange flying animal, with my wings beating down on him. When the bull calmed down, a toreador charged with a cape, which temporarily brought me and the bull up against a common adversary. The crowd went wild. In about ten minutes the bull was lassoed and I was cut loose. Surprisingly there was no blood. It would have been considered a bad omen if either I or the bull—they never gave me his name—had been hurt or killed. The whole mad tussle is to attract tourists and their spending.

  “The mayor’s people then took me to a hillside after giving me chicha to drink and parading me through the streets. Hundreds of people on the slopes made a wish and I was supposed to be the bearer of those wishes. They untied the ropes on my legs and watched to see if I was still whole enough to fly away. The tension as to whether I was injured and could not fly—another bad omen—disappeared as I soared into the sky, never looking back at these absurd humans.

  “The bull must agree with me too. Can’t humans stop this condor/bull fight as they have dogfighting and cockfighting? It was a miracle I didn’t break a leg or crack some claws or take a spill off the bull and get gored,” concluded the great wild condor.

  The ants thought the condor was too generous. They asked for time from the TRIAD and got it even though the trio knew they were playing with fire. Once one insect got on the screen, they all wanted to be on. They hadn’t forgotten the power play of the stink bugs.

  Several ants came on the screen and reminded humans that they loved to use their soles and heels to crush the lowly insects, and also liked to block their nests with the ants’ own neat excavations. Humans equate ants with refuse and carrion.

  “You do, no doubt, admire our discipline, our work habits, our self-sacrifice for other ants, especially our fertile queen. You are fascinated when you discover that, according to Science magazine, carpenter ants have different tasks at different ages. You noted that our young ants serve as nurses of larvae and pupae. Our middle-aged ants patrol our nests to makes sure things are running smoothly and cleanly.

  “You’ve also discovered that we put our garbage in a specific location, including our fallen ants. Our elderly ants go outside the nest and forage, very dangerous work. We are pleased you know all this because you’ll be less likely to see us under the dreaded stereotypes about us, at least the harmless ants for whom I speak. The fire ants are too aggressive and give us a bad name, they are our terrorists and deserve whatever you can do to them.”

  Other Insects Weigh In

  Again, the insects did the unexpected. None of them tried to bum rush the stage this time, instead they began handing in petitions, talking about the parade of animal immigrants that had been so successful a few days ago. Why couldn’t the insects have a big parade, and, maybe, a beauty pageant? It was only fair.

  The TRIAD understood the insect world the least and were puzzled about how to handle this torrent of requests. Pound for pound, insects globally outweighed everybody but humans and even there it was neck and neck. The insects knew this and were clamoring for representation based on overall weight on the planet. The TALKOUT, they felt, was giving the humans the impression the world’s fauna was made up of just some majestic hierarchy of mammals, many of whom only number in the thousands. A civil rights issue had boiled up among the lower ranks of the animal kingdom.

  The insects made the further point that humans fear them far more than they fear mammals, reptiles, and aquatic beings. This fear will attract more of their attention, which has been shaky lately due to the loss of novelty, according to the Human Genius. Besides, insects were more widely distributed so that other lands and countries will be spoken for on the screen. After all, bees pollinate everywhere, while lions, polar bears and starlings have homes restricted to few areas. The insects were very outspoken and even organized their own TRIAD—bees, ants, and spiders.

  It was time for another day-long recess for the warmblooded TRIAD to figure this situation out before it got out of control. As the Elephant wryly noted: Insects have been known to attack mammals. Really!

  Humans Can’t Get Enough of Animal Tales

  It might seem that after being glued to their screens for hours listening to all these animal tales, humans would utilize whatever viewing time they now had to look at other types of programming. Surprisingly, no.

  During the time-out, humans returned to their own daily fare of “animal stories” for which the demand was insatiable. Most evening newscasts were making time for animal stories, such as one about a youngster rescuing a cat that fell down into a well.

  And so, the stories that day covered the disqualification of an elite horse trainer in Britain for administering drugs to a dozen racing horses. And there was a report on the growing success of animal shelters in getting adoptions or finding pets’ owners. Also appearing was an intriguing feature on the largest hospital for falcons, which was in Abu Dhabi, with an ophthalmology department and intensive care units.

  The New York Times described a new company call Dognition, “which produces a Web site where people can test their dog’s cognition, learn about their pets and, Dr. [Brian] H
are hopes, supply him and his colleagues with scientific data on tens of thousands of dogs . . . As the science of dog cognition comes into better focus, Dr. Hare hopes that scientists can use Dognition to deliver their insights to dog trainers. Science-based dog training would take into account what dogs are good at, what they’re bad at and the biases that influence their [doggy] minds.”

  Not to be outdone, the Wall Street Journal covered the little-known world of gambling and homing pigeon racing. “In a typical race, pigeons are removed from their home lofts in a given area and released several hundred miles away with electronic chips on their legs that track when they have arrived back home, as well as their average flight speed.” Apparently, the Journal noted, “there are pigeon-racing clubs across the country.” People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) claims that in many races a majority of pigeons die before arriving home, killed by other birds, power lines, or exhaustion. Pigeon owners also often kill birds that are slow racers and have minimal breeding value, according to PETA.

  Humans Show Some Empathy

  In fact, that story garnered a lot of attention, so much so that one bold human publication decided to do something that would be more likely to come from the TALKOUT, a hard expose of the suffering of birds in this sport. They had recruited a pigeon to lay out the facts, some of which were found in a pertinent news story.

  “I, the homing pigeon, have a history. I come from the first domesticated bird in human history. We were viewed as a meat-producing machine, particularly our young, called squabs. We mate for life and may have six broods a year. Our young can leave the nest after five weeks, by which time they are ready to mate and breed.

  “Your pigeon specialists now think we can use abstract reasoning, being able to recognize letters of the alphabet and see the difference between and a Monet and a Picasso. I, as a homing pigeon, can fly up to ninety miles per hour. Huge flocks of passenger pigeons were hunted to extinction in North America by the end of the nineteenth century.

  “On the other hand, pigeons are now prospering wherever humans congregate. More food, fewer predators and the compassion of organized pigeon lovers among humans have saved us. Now, with this background, let me tell you what my day is like at the Holibird Homer Club, where I participate in the types of races you read about in the Wall Street Journal. Only I can give you the inside story.

  “Elastic bands with serial numbers are attached to our legs by a race-directing human. We are loaded into cages then onto a specially structured truck to take us to a very distant liberation point. Someone, called a ‘starter,’ records the time of release. Then we’re let go to fly back home, maybe seven hundred miles away. The first to get back wins the prize for its owner.

  “If we don’t die on the trip, we are treated well. I wish wild pigeons had it so good. We’re happy, because we make many homing pigeon caretakers and fans happy, and, in turn, they have to make sure we stay happy until we can’t compete any longer. But . . . all good things have to end, right, humans?”

  While this story shocked humans and encouraged animals, who realized that some humans had empathy, other humans were perusing stories such as the one in the New York Times on how the European Commission imposed a two-year outlawing of a class of pesticides believed to harm bees. Or, in the same issue, news that voracious snakeheads were spotted in a lake inside Central Park.

  The Washington Post had a report titled “The Horsemen of Nairobi,” recounting Derby Day in Kenya at the only horse track in that continent between Egypt and Zimbabwe. The jockeys were lucky to earn twenty dollars a ride.

  The New York Times had a headline “Farm Equipment That Runs on Oats.” It began, “Once a mainstay of farming, horses are back, as clean and organic as the crops they plow.” The story described life in Hartland, Vermont.

  Of course, not all the reports were flattering to animals. One talked about an exhibition at the American Museum of Natural History titled “The Power of Poison,” and it wasn’t about the human kind. It was about poisons possessed by innocent animals.

  The Elephant and Dolphin, noting this show was probably heavily sensationalized, did acknowledge that some animals were good at creating deadly brews. Think of those cute, diminutive golden poison frogs. One of them can secrete enough poison on its skin to terminate ten humans. And there were giant silkworm caterpillars with hollow spines, which can pierce human skin and cause uncontrollable bleeding. Unlike human poisons, the Owl noted as the three talked, such poisons are used for self-defense, like what is alleged about the chemical and biological weapons of the human species.

  Another story about animals’ abilities was in a Washington Post report for its “KidsPost.” It told the story of what happened when Hurricane Sandy flooded the New York Aquarium’s spot by the sea. Its twelve thousand animals were exposed to oily tanks and dirty water when the power was lost. But after six months, more than 80 percent of the animals were secured, including walruses, angelfish, otters, and sea lions. But the freshwater koi died in the saltwater surge. Sharks, sea turtles, seahorses, eels, and rays were rushed to the aquarium’s veterinary hospital after the water destroyed their exhibit space. The staffers used heroic measures to save all the animals, such as pumping oxygen into the water and rebuilding filters and pumps. The animals were also fielding some positive e-mails and letters from humans, indicating that their TALKOUT was having a measurable impact. One person referred to a report by the American Heart Association that said walking a dog may protect you from heart disease. “I just looked at pictures of the dogs walking with their owners in an entirely more sympathetic way,” the writer noted.

  Insects Get More Screen Time

  The TRIAD had not yet been totally sold on the idea of a long parade of insects marching across the stage, but had come up with a holding action. First varied insects would be allowed to present their viewpoint, come what may, and the animals would see how that went over. Time for the marching later. The plan was, however, not without its perils. It was based on playing on human fear to keep the audience watching.

  First up was a cluster of flea beetles known to human gardeners and farmers for devouring broccoli, arugula, and eggplant. They are so small, they had to be magnified for the human viewers, but once seen, their shiny, trim black form revealed an incredible jumping ability with powerful hind legs. What could the flea beetles possibly say to humans? Well, they knew they had to perform and so they made a constructive pitch:

  “We, flea beetles, as you call us, say that both you and we have our jobs to do. You want to grow these vegetables. We must nibble at them to stay alive over the time needed to lay our eggs for our posterity. You can declare chemical warfare against us and in so doing expose yourselves and eaters to toxins. Or you can adopt prevention, which means keeping us out of your crops ‘by good soil fertility, irrigation and crop rotation,’ as master gardener Barbara Damrosch advises. She urges ‘using the proper mulch and timing more of the crops for later than the spring.’” With that the flea beetles synchronized their departure.

  The TRIAD knew that the flea beetles might have interested growers and eaters of those vegetables but not the larger viewership that does not particularly care for broccoli.

  Quickly they brought on the “nuclear option.” A large mosquito filled half the screen, looking as threatening as an alien in a Hollywood film, with the message: “Avoid us. Don’t try to kill us. It won’t work. We mutate and resist like no other. You used DDT against us to eradicate malaria in Sri Lanka and other countries, and we became resistant to it in a few years.

  “We don’t like to have to spread disease,” declared the giant mosquito, “because it causes lots of casualties among humans. Remember,” the mosquito said, repeating a message brought up earlier, “it is not us, but the parasite that does the damage carried by us inadvertently. If you choose avoidance, you’ll reduce your toxic illnesses and meet your mission. For example, eliminate standing or stagnant water in barrels, gutters, birdhouses. Cut thick shrubs. Use f
ans in your homes—we can’t fly through moving air. We only fly about one and a half miles per hour. No need to lather yourself with lotions or spray your rooms and walls. Simple fans, especially if they go back and forth from the floor, will keep us away without destroying us.

  “So we can have mutual interests, no matter all the profitable businesses that try to have you buy their plans for chemical annihilation at a steep price to your health and pocketbook. Then you have to dispose of the aerosol cans. So don’t let these exterminators—they’ll never succeed in their crime of using polluting pesticides, never—sell you a bill of boomerangs. We’re telling you kindly that the best policy is ‘separate but equal.’ Otherwise it will be mutually assured destruction.”

  Whereupon the giant mosquito spread its wings and took off.

  Back in human-land, stocks of fans flew out of the hardware stores. Millions rushed out to empty containers and pots of stagnant water. Birdhouses were purchased in great quantity. Out of self-interest, the giant mosquito deliberately did not mention that a nontoxic way to control mosquitoes, along with many other kinds of bugs, was to have many birds around to devour them for food.

  Human feedback, as the TRIAD learned, found the giant mosquito’s presentation helpful and remarkably accommodating. The same was not entirely true for the insect kingdom, who was watching this speaker with suspicion. Not only had the mosquitoes already been in the TALKOUT once before this, but mosquitoes are not exactly popular members among their fellow bugs. They make humans very angry and the chemical bombs humans let loose have taken many another insect species into decline.

  The rumble under and on the ground grew more audible and more frequent. The insect world was getting angry and the so-called higher vertebrate mammals took such rumbles seriously. By direct observation, flight, or grapevine, all mammals know what happens in the dense Amazon jungle when the ferocious Amazon ants start their massive march.