Unfounded fears are at the heart of much cruelty toward wild animals, from the wolf to the wolf spider and everyone in between. But a lack of respect for natural behaviors causes harm too. A little empathy goes a long way toward compassionate coexistence.
Wherever you are in the continental U.S., a coyote may be less than a mile away. If you live in the city, you’re more likely than your rural cousins to encounter raccoons. And regardless of geography, you probably share your home with dozens of species of insects and spiders.
These facts aren’t meant to scare you, though they’re often exploited by pest control companies for exactly that purpose. Proximity to wildlife should be cause for celebration—reminders that, no matter how many walls and fences we construct, we’re an integral part of the natural world.
On private property, we treat wildlife as intruders, alerting police when coyotes wander the neighborhood. On public lands, we ourselves are the intruders, taking selfies with seals and cuddling up to buffalos.
Yet instead of awe and wonder, fear is our default reaction, often leading to trapping, poisoning, or, in the case of small creatures, the angry stomp of a shoe. In a society where federal scientists declared a century ago that predators “no longer have a place in our advancing civilization” and modern consumers can purchase weapons of mass habitat destruction at local hardware stores, our conflicted relationships with wild animals large and small aren’t surprising. Many of us grew up in denuded landscapes without large carnivores or herbivores, from wolves to deer, and without context for how to coexist. We take our cues from pop culture, learning about animals in faraway places while perpetuating myths about those in our backyards.
Caught in the crossfire of our contradictory attitudes are living beings with few real homes to call their own. On private property, we treat wildlife as intruders, alerting police when coyotes wander the neighborhood. On public lands, we ourselves are the intruders, taking selfies with sea lions and cuddling up to buffalos. On the surface, the two types of behaviors appear dissimilar; one results from misguided fears and the other from seemingly no fears at all. But they derive from the same view of wild animals as abstractions, a collection of anonymous creatures who are alternately “pests,” “nuisances” or perfect vacation pictures.
“More people could probably tell you about an African lion or an elephant than they could about a gray fox or an opossum or something right here,” says Christine Barton, director of operations for the Fund for Animals Wildlife Center in Ramona, California, a care center operated by HSUS affiliate the Fund for Animals.
Ironically, that lack of knowledge engenders fears of some of our closest and most harmless wild neighbors. Many spiders lack the ability to bite us, skunks would rather walk away than spray, and opossums don’t attack. Most bee and wasp species are solitary and never sting, and many snakes present no threat. Yet viral videos about single incidents can spark outsized fears of entire classes of wildlife.
Healthy fears can be lifesaving—a lesson learned too late by tourists who treat wildlife as objects of entertainment. But fear doesn’t have to turn into loathing. “It’s OK to be afraid of spiders,” says Kerry Wixted of the Maryland Department of Natural Resources, “but it’s not OK to kill the spider because you’re afraid of it.”
Instead of annihilating perceived dangers, we have an ethical responsibility to question assumptions, says HSUS urban wildlife director John Griffin. “We all have a right to be here,” adds Barton, and we should should keep in mind a few key principles when learning about wildlife among us:
Wild animals are individuals.
“Everybody’s always asking, ‘What’s his story?’ ” says chief animal control officer Jennifer Toussaint of the dogs and cats at the Animal Welfare League of Arlington, Virginia. “Well, wildlife have stories, too.”
One local favorite is “Ma,” a fox who suns herself on a busy sidewalk while her kits play. She’s been doing so for years, but Toussaint still finds herself assuring panicked residents that because fox parents hunt for food almost around the clock, Ma is “trying to catch a moment and just catch a few rays.” The information delights callers: “Every mother understands that moment.”
Even the smallest creatures lead fascinating lives. Wolf spider mothers carry egg sacs around and allow hatched babies to travel with them. Male spiders often work hard to attract females. “Some spider males have to bring gifts,” says Wixted. “Some of them sing and dance. Some of them have to build elaborate displays.”
Their motivations are survival-based.
When animals get too close for comfort, it often means they’re hungry, thirsty, or protecting their young.
Bobcats and mountain lions venture near homes looking for water, says Barton, especially during wildfires that force them farther into human territories. Snakes inhabit porch mailboxes to eat insects attracted to lights; going dark may encourage them to move along. Raccoon mothers who rip through plywood or other repairs to a hole in a wall are “not plotting to come down one day and kill you and your children,” says Toussaint. But if these DIY coverings have inadvertently trapped kits inside, they’ll “brave fire—they will brave darn near anything to get back to their children.” Toussaint advises callers to remove makeshift barriers and wait at least 24 hours; wild moms who feel unsafe will relocate kits to alternate den sites. (It’s best to work with a humane service to gently exclude wildlife before you get to this point; see “Choosing a Wildlife Control Company” for more information.)
They all have essential jobs to do.
Wixted has been stung enough in the past to be wary of yellow jackets. But she appreciates their dedication to their young and their role as wild garden helpers who gather insects for their nests.
When a nest expanded so quickly she worried neighborhood boys might come too close, another wild garden helper stepped in to take care of it. “That weekend, a raccoon dug it all up and ate everybody,” Wixted says. It’s a lesson she often teaches: Let stink bugs stay; spiders will eat them. Let spiders stay; hummingbirds will snatch them up. And so on, until everyone has had their fill in an elaborate web of life that, with just a little knowledge, we can all learn to appreciate.
Related content: For tips on helping others address their fears of the natural world, see this extended Q&A with Kerry Wixted.
A version of this article appeared in the Nov-Dec 2018 issue of All Animals magazine. Learn more about the natural behaviors of larger wildlife at humanesociety.org/wildneighbors, and read about the fascinating lifestyles of arthropods at Bug Eric, the blog of Eric Eaton, the principal author of the Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America.