Release – A Special Joy

 

By Jai Longhurst

 

The release of an orphaned or injured animal is the most gratifying and rewarding part of Wildlife Rehabilitation. Without the assistance and dedication of Aspen Valley and the wonderful vets and volunteers, the thousands of creatures coming through our door would never survive. The odds of a baby bear surviving without the mother its first winter is less than 20%. An orphaned raccoon, fox, coyote or an otter, eyes still closed and vulnerable, have only days. For the last year I have raised an orphaned Otter, Biniq. It was the utmost pleasure and joy that words cannot begin to describe. I have always had a love for the otter, their family structure, their love of life, their cleaver minds and joyful, playful spunk that makes the otter a pleasure to watch and learn from. Biniq was just such an otter.

Without a mother, Biniq had no chance for survival. Otters are not a common species to grace the Sanctuary. The mothers are very good with their young. The pups don’t leave the den until they are 3 months of age. But for some reason the mother otter was moving her den and pups to a safer location and that meant crossing a road. Biniq was all that survived. She had never seen water, never fished, and never been alone. It was a very terrifying time for a baby otter. She arrived by plane from Manitoba and the cries of fear called through the terminal of the North Bay Airport. But as I talked to her calmly and offered her a drink she began to settle. I was to be her mother.

Our time together was remarkable. To watch her grow and develop and to see the joys of exploring a new experience was wonderful for her and for me. But as time passed I could also feel the time getting nearer for her to start the life she was meant to live – wild and free. By July she was ready and the time to arrange for her flight to Manitoba was hard knowing our time together was at an end. The trip to North Bay was quiet, reflecting on the learning journey we both shared. The terminal was quiet at 7 am and I was glad for the Biniq’s sake. The flight was going to be hard enough without all the noise and commotion of people and being surrounded by smells and an atmosphere so foreign to her. I could not make the trip with her. I had more needful mouths waiting me in the nurseries at Aspen Valley. Saying goodbye was heart breaking, like a child leaving for university and home for the first time. I would never see her again but I am relieved to know that with the help and support I gave to my little Biniq in the crucial time in her life has allowed for this moment to occur. For her to live back in the wild to be free to twist and roll and slide through the water, to be an otter, was a privilege I will never in all my life forget. I know there will be other otters in my time that will need the same care and attention like Biniq. But she was the first and I raised and released her to be free. That is the greatest feeling in the world.