One of the first things I learned from "Mammals of the Great Lakes Region" is not to chase away the woodchuck that has made its den (actually its 'plunge hole') right beneath my bedroom window. It may gnaw occasionally on the deck, but if it abandons its burrow, Professor Kurta opines that a skunk is likely to take up residence. Plus it's fun to watch the woodchuck amble across the lawn, chomping the heads off of the dandelions--I guess I can put up with the occasional gnawing noises.
This book, first published in 1957 and brought up-to-date in 1995 is filled with the natural histories of eighty-three mammals living in the Great Lakes ecosystem, livened by the occasional wry personal anecdote. There are numerous black-and-white photographs and drawings, including range maps and multiple views of mammal skulls. "Mammals of the Great Lakes Region" is meant to be backpacked into the field and has chapters on capturing small mammals and specimen preparation.
Some of the author's language is specialized but there is a good glossary at the back of the book that explains terms like "altricial--poorly developed at birth, usually with eyes and ears closed, often lacking hair, and requiring large amounts of parental care."
There is no need to rush out and apply for a scientific collecting permit and a set of traps, as the author includes detailed information on the identification of mammals by their signs and habits. For instance, the bog lemming feeds on grasses, rushes, and sedges and since the seed heads tend to be out of its reach, it snips the stems into evenly spaced lengths. This small mammal leaves other clues: "Piles of bright green [excreted] pellets and discarded plant clippings, all trimmed to about the same length, are indicative of bog lemming activity." Another visual: "[Their] runways interconnect feeding sites, toilet areas, and the nest."
"Mammals of the Great Lakes Region" is both fun to browse and good for a straight read-through on a cold winter's weekend, when many of the local mammals are hibernating, or scampering through their cozy tunnels beneath the snow.
