When I was a child somewhere in those wondrous years between 7 and 10, I was a voracious animal collector. Springtime brought a wealth of opportunities to find frog eggs, red-spotted newts and rat snakes, to set up an ant farm in a peanut butter jar, to capture a mouse and house it in a hastily constructed cage, only to find it gone in the morning. My enthusiasm was fueled by a book whose words and images were so enticing, so perfectly attuned to my passion that I memorized every page and could never part with it: “The Golden Book of Wild Animal Pets.”
When I look through this book now, I am deeply thankful that I was not a very skillful or ruthless hunter. The animals that I did manage to capture invariably led short, miserable lives. And it wasn’t just wild animals. If a stray dog or cat showed up on our property, I would try to hide it in the barn in a kennel made of hay bales, sneaking food from the house. This rarely worked out in any creature’s best interest. One day I made a surreptitious trade of some unused toy for a neighbor’s rabbit, but this time when my mother discovered it, she agreed to let me keep it if I would build it a proper hutch and clean it regularly. “Someday,” I promised, “I will have my own house where I can keep all the animals.”
Little did I know that the title of this blog would fulfill that promise quite literally this week as our school closed due to the coronavirus pandemic. Not knowing how long we would be away, I knew that the school menagerie would be coming home with me. Now installed in the guest room, the various cages and tanks house animals that have been at Jemicy anywhere from 30 years (Blotch, the ball python) to the imminent (incubating chicken eggs due to hatch in three weeks). Since I will be teaching my students online here for the foreseeable future, the animals will play virtually the role that they always have in our classroom: species ambassadors helping to impart knowledge and insight into the lives of others.
On the other hand, the COVID-19 coronavirus itself represents a piece of the world’s biodiversity that I am making every effort to NOT bring home. In trying to understand the nature of recent epidemics and pandemics with apparent non-human animal sources, I came across a recent article from Scientific American that highlights this issue. Habitat destruction not only reduces biodiversity directly, but it can also open pathways for new pathogens to enter human spheres. Also benefiting from human incursions into formerly wild, remote areas is the exotic pet trade that results in animals such as the ones now inhabiting my guest room. My view of these beings has evolved from passion to compassion, and to demonstrating for my students what responsible pet ownership entails. It might mean a hurried evacuation. Or soaking a shedding snake in the bathtub.
I started this blog nearly five years ago as a way to share my learning and experiences during six months in Tasmania and New Zealand on a Fulbright award. Being so far removed from my Jemicy students, living on remote islands on the other side of the world, I treasured the online connections that we devised. Our present challenge is to make these same meaningful connections across distance that feels almost as vast, since we are all separated from each other, each in our own home. My goal this spring will be to use these separate home spaces as common ground for discovery and learning. We will be sharing observations of the nature around us, both in terms of living things and the physical environment, experimenting remotely, exploring our backyards, and discovering the heart of bringing biodiversity home.