Of Predator and Prey

As mentioned in previous posts, there is a village of prairie-dogs behind our office. If you have never been Out West to see them, prairie-dogs are rodents about guinea-pig sized but without perpetual bed-hair. They live in villages made up of holes and tunnels underground, from which they tend to pop up and down like Whack-a-Moles (the arcade game where you try to bang plastic rodent-looking things on the head with a hammer before they disappear down their holes). Prairie-dogs are much too cute to bang on the head with a hammer. We have at least 20 prairie-dogs happily doing their rodenty things in the field behind our office. We watch them while eating lunch or when we just need to hide from our phone for a few minutes.

We can tell differences between them, and have even named a couple. Chubby is by far the fattest, and he stands guard next to his hole a lot and barks at the others. He pivots about when he gets bored looking in the same direction, and will occasionally make a foray into the tall grass to eat. He is quite brave, and gets very near us. We can sometimes hear him chewing. Pudgy is another one. So named, because we often confuse him for Chubby, except when Chubby appears and is obviously much more rotund. Chubby and Pudgy live in holes very close together, and very near the office.

So yesterday, I was out watching my fuzzy neighbors when a beautiful red-tailed hawk dove for one of them. It was quite impressive. So quick and silent that I didn't notice it until the hawk actually touched down and began hopping, trying to grasp the small rodent in its talons. I was near enough that I could see the brown fuzzy shape running around and between the hawk's feet. I cheered when I saw the frightened prairie-dog disappear into its hole. And again when I saw him re-appear this morning, apparently unscathed.

I wondered later why I was on the prairie-dog's side and why I cheered for him, rather than the hawk. The hawk surely has a right to live and eat, same as anyone else. And I have always admired and been fascinated by birds of prey. He was large and graceful, swift and silent. Beautiful. I didn't want to interfere. I wanted to merely observe the age-old dance between predator and prey. But I was happy that the prey won this dance.