Why do we love wildlife to death?
We need to complement it with respect and restraint, says Cameron Jefferies.
My March 29 was bookmarked by two very different experiences related to the same moose family.
That morning, I received an email from a family member who happened upon a mother moose and her two calves along the Sturgeon River in St. Albert. The attached picture presented a tranquil scene: three animals casually moving through the mist at the treeline.
The day ended with news the mother had been shot and killed by Alberta Fish and Wildlife officers after they, accompanied by RCMP, had failed to herd the animals away from a busy intersection and out of town. An Alberta Justice representative explained “the cow moose charged one of the fish and wildlife officers, and with the life and well-being of that officer in clear and present danger, the officers on scene had no option but to use lethal force.” This interpretation of events has been contested by eyewitnesses who have since filed official complaints.
The killing of a moose in these circumstances is troubling for reasons relating specifically to why this moose was killed and to larger trends in wildlife conservation.
It is of particular concern officers — “extensively trained” to mediate human-wildlife interactions — were apparently ill-equipped to resolve this situation without lethal consequences.
The official account indicates officers first attempted aversive conditioning, meaning the moose were encouraged to move by being shot with bean bags and rubber bullets.
After 30 minutes, the mother allegedly charged one of the officers. Having successfully survived winter, with two young to care for, she was subjected to half an hour of sub-lethal “shepherding.” Shouldn’t wildlife officers be aware a mother moose is likely to charge when approached or shot at in the presence of her calves? Can we acknowledge such behaviour is expected from a stressed animal instead of using it to label it the “aggressor.”
Why couldn’t officers warn oncoming traffic, or temporarily close lanes? We accept similar delays for construction, races and fenderbenders. Why couldn’t officers establish a safe perimeter? Surely, that is preferable to weapons being discharged in the middle of a city.
Officials also explained tranquillization was not pursued because it could be dangerous for both the officer and the animal, which may experience “capture myopathy” where stress can lead to muscle failure and death. It seems obvious the possibility should be preferred over the certainty of death. Either the policy for this scenario is flawed, the operationalization of that policy was inappropriate, or perhaps both.
When a cougar was shot in west Edmonton in 2015 after it charged at officers, part of the justification was the cougar was a powerful predator, and “facing a cougar is different than a deer or moose.” The events of March 29 suggest otherwise.
Despite our widespread love of nature, we unfortunately seem content to love it to death. We need to complement it with deepened respect. Respect demands restraint; it is about determining how we can interfere less often to ultimately conserve and protect more effectively. Arguably, a response policy built around respect for that moose family, or other wildlife, would not have resulted in one dead animal, and two forlorn calves facing an uncertain future.
To fully embrace the value river valleys bring to the health and quality of cities, we must account for their continued importance as animal corridors. To live with nature, our cities and the province need to be better prepared to deal with animal interactions. Situations do not have to be dealt with as emergencies if governments and citizens know how to keep animals safe when encounters occur.
Ours is the age of the Anthropocene; a time of mass extinction. Humans are the dominant force responsible for significantly altering the natural world, and we are losing wilderness and wild animals at an alarming rate. Reversing these trends requires a larger discussion about sustainable coexistence. While the fate of one moose family may not change this trajectory, it should give reason to pause and consider some of these larger concerns. Otherwise, we’re going to continue to love wildlife to death.
Why couldn’t officers warn oncoming traffic, or temporarily close lanes?