Every year about this time, little male otters are given their walking papers by the dominant male and get kicked out of the family. I never told my children how many baby otters I found dead by the side of the road, victims of trying to cross Highway 17. The minimum distance the little fellow had to travel to reach my pond was 2 miles.
I was too busy to notice any footprints on the farm, but yesterday morning early ,while I was doing maintenance, I heard loud chattering coming from the pond. I followed because as far as I knew, there were only frogs in the pond. No fish. No birds. There he was. His brown head ducked under water and all was left was a huge whirl and a submarine trail.
I don’t know much about otters, so I was surprised to find out that most otters die of starvation. Greedy and voracious eaters, they live in a body of water until every single thing to eat is gone. What am I to do? I’ve always been four square against taming wild animals and making them dependent on humans for food, but that pond didn’t have much in it to begin with. Do I let nature take its course? Or do I haul out the cat food and create another problem? If I don’t feed him, he has to hit the road, seeking another food source. I know what awaits him on the road.