Whenever I see one of the grand old bulls of Yellowstone, struggling through their final days, my heart breaks as if it were happening to one of my best friends.
Through watching every phase of their lives, from birth, spring joy, mating, winter survival and death, I have come to love and admire the spirit of the bison. I find it difficult to believe that man could have thought it okay to wipe out our wild herds but they came pretty close to reaching their goal. Luckily, some with vision and passion for nature, saw the errors and they fought with all of the tenacity of these animals, to save their lives.
Many people look at bison, and other ungulates, as dumb animals without brains and feelings but those folks have not really watched them or looked into their eyes. They have not seen the twinkle of amusement in their eyes, right before they step onto the road and block your path. They have not seen old bulls, making the trek from Lava Creek to Mammoth, change lanes when traffic comes their way, or noticed how some will carefully stay to the side of the road.
And, they have not watched them die.
That is the thing about being in Yellowstone nearly every day, with my eyes wide open to whatever may happen – I not only see beauty but also see death.
Bison, dying of old age, hold on until there is no fat left on their bodies. They struggle and the other bison gather around them and say their goodbyes, before and after their deaths. I often wish that a predator would come along and end their suffering but that rarely happens. Although, once last spring I did see a bison cow, dying at Blacktail ponds, with coyotes eating on it before she was dead. The cow kicked at the coyotes and they just came back for more. Luckily, she died soon after I first noticed her – it was a real moment in nature that I have barely been able to talk about. Not pleasant, but real. Each animal is just another spot on the food chain.
And, so I watch as this old guy is dying, close to the road. This magpie has haunted his last days, pecking at him as if he were already dead. It would be easier if the bull did not seem aware of the magpie’s presence but he is, though he lacks the energy to do much but kick or shake a little. The magpie can’t wait for the bull to be dead because he means food. I can’t wait for him to be dead because it means his suffering will be done. Watching predators begin to eat before the animal is dead is probably the most unpleasant thing I have seen. Wolves eating and the bull picks up his head and thrashes with his feet. I am sure that the animal must be in shock and not really feeling much but it is unpleasant all of the same.
Some of the same unpleasantness when a man shoots a bison 22 times, blowing its nose off, before it finally dies from its injuries. Or a man shoots a bullet into an elk and the elk must run off and die a slow and painful death. Much like when a man beats a woman or a child. Man is worse because they know better and are supposed to be the civilized ones, but also because their atrocities are far greater.
And, so, I find the acts of nature to be more true and honest – not for greed but for survival.
When a bison dies in nature it feeds many animals, not just one selfish human.
It is the cycle of life as it was meant to be. I don’t sit in my house and watch it from my office chair as it is reported on the internet – I watch it while standing outdoors in every temperature, for real. It is not what I signed on for, but what I got. And, definitely not for everyone to witness.
Please don’t envy me my position for having the ability to be here in Yellowstone everyday – respect me for my perseverance to see the truth and to allow you to see it through me.
So glad he was not dying after all. Possibly the struggle to dig for food beneath the snow coupled with his age and being hen pecked by that magpie wore him down to the point where he simply needed a long Winter nap?
It is very hard to look at those eyes 🙁
Amen.