Unlikely Friendships : 47 Remarkable Stories From the Animal Kingdom (2 page)

Even those less averse to associating people-based ideas with nonpeople say we don't know how much awareness exists between “friends” regarding their behavior. But behaviorists argue that declaring that there is none at all leans too far the other way. The famed primatologist Jane Goodall, who has described her own relationship with wild chimpanzees as friendships, said in a recent interview with me for
National Geographic
, “You cannot share your life in any meaningful way with an animal and not realize they have different personalities. Are their capabilities and emotions similar to ours? Absolutely.”

On a Darwinian note, evolutionary biologist Marc Bekoff of the University of Colorado, who has written extensively on animal sentience, puts it like this: “Evolutionary continuity—a concept that came from Charles Darwin—stresses that there are differences in degrees rather than in kind between humans and other animals. That applies to emotions. We share many bodily systems, including the limbic system, where emotions are rooted. So if we have joy or sorrow, they have it, too. It isn't the same joy or the same sorrow. But the differences are shades of gray, not black versus white.” Nurturing feels good to us, Bekoff says, so why wouldn't it feel good across species?

Feeling good is what this book is about. These stories represent just a small sample of the unexpected animal pairings that
people have reported around the world. Dogs, not surprisingly, feature prominently: One dog mothers a baby squirrel, another parades around with chicks on his back, a third buddies up with an elephant, for example. But I have sought out a mix of species to reveal the wide reach of this phenomenon. I describe the unions as friendships, knowing that we can't truly explain what emotional strings bind our nonhuman kin but assuming that there is some parallel to our experiences. To me, friendship is as simple as seeking comfort or companionship from another to improve one's own life experience. Even if friendship is had only briefly, it is a plus. And in all of the cases that follow, the animals involved are arguably better off—more confident, physically stronger, in higher spirits—after finding each other than they were before.

Though my focus is on pairs of nonhuman animals, during my research I stumbled across many extraordinary stories about people bonding with other species. That's a subject for another book, but I picked a couple of favorites to include here in the mix.

Why do unlike creatures get together? Often biologists can point to an obvious benefit to one or both animals related to spotting predators, keeping parasites at bay, staying warm, finding food. Scientists label such relationships with terms like commensalism or mutualism. This book is concerned with cases that are a little less tidy. Some involve an animal taking a parental or protective role toward another, probably instinctively. Others have no obvious explanation. Perhaps the need for a good friend is not just
a human thing after all.

What
is
human is to experience the
awwwww
factor of an ape hugging a kitten or a puppy nuzzling a pig. We are built to melt over soft, cuddly things (it's one reason we can endure the stress of parenting a newborn). But the appeal goes deeper, Barbara King says: “I believe people crave examples not just of cuteness, and not just of tolerance—but of true compassion and sharing. These stories help us get in touch with the best in ourselves.”

The author befriends a potato cod in Australia.

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OUTH
A
FRICA
, 2008}

At just six months of age, Themba the elephant suffered a terrible loss: His mother fell off a cliff while moving with their herd through the South African nature reserve where they lived. At such a critical time for mother–son bonding, veterinarians hoped another female in the herd would adopt the baby, but none did. So they decided to find a surrogate outside the elephant family to help Themba.

Staff at the Shamwari Wildlife Rehabilitation Center in Eastern Cape had been successful keeping a motherless rhinoceros with a sheep. Hoping for a similar triumph, wildlife managers moved Themba to the Rehabilitation Center and borrowed a domestic sheep named Albert from a nearby farm.

Why a sheep? They might not seem like the brightest of animals, but in truth their intelligence falls just below that of pigs, which are quite smart. They can recognize individuals over the long term, can distinguish between different emotions based on facial expressions, and will react emotionally to familiar faces of various species. So bonding with other kinds of animals might not be so unlikely—especially with elephants, who are unquestionably bright and expressive, and rely heavily on social bonds.

Still, the attempt to pair the two species didn't start out well. When first introduced, Themba chased Albert around the watering hole, flapping his ears and lifting his tail to look as large and threatening as possible. Albert fled, as sheep instinct demands, and hid for hours. Over three days of wary gestures and tentative touches, the pair finally accepted each other, and the result proved well worth the stressful beginning.

“I still remember the day Albert took the first leaves off a tree where Themba was feeding,” says Dr. Johan Joubert, the center's wildlife director. “We knew they truly bonded when they started to sleep cuddled up together. I must admit, we were concerned that Themba would lie down on top of Albert and crush him by mistake!”

Once the bond took hold, elephant and sheep were inseparable. They'd nap in tandem, horse around together, and Themba would rest his trunk on Albert's woolly back as they explored their enclosure or went in search of snacks. Though keepers expected Themba to imitate the elder Albert, instead the sheep became the copycat, even learning to feed on Themba's favorite leaves—from a thorny acacia plant not typically part of a sheep's diet.

Johan Joubert and his staff had always planned to reintroduce Themba to his family in the reserve where he was born. But during preparations for his release, Themba became ill from a twisted intestine and veterinarians were unable to save him. He was just two and a half years into what might have been a seventy-year lifespan.

The staff at the wildlife center were heartbroken, though Albert, fortunately, was able to forge new interspecies friendships among the reserve's zebra foals and wildebeest.