On my walk back from the lake to the farmhouse on my parent's property, my dog was walking ahead of me (as usual) on the trail between the pines. As she attained a clear view of the path beyond the curve, which was as of yet out of my sight, she took a defensive stance and began to growl. I knew she was seeing something unfamiliar and probably was encountering an animal of some type. She held her ground and proceeded cautiously so while I was curious I was not yet afraid.
As I walked to the bend in the path, wondering what was there, I evaluated my dog's behaviour and concluded that she was not seeing a person whom she knew. New people are greeted with a friendly bark accompanied by ears folded back and a horizontally swinging tail, to announce their presence in my sphere. My dog is very protective of me and no one gets past her without being heralded. This encounter didn't warrant being heralded. Her ears and tail were straight up, her chest was out, all her hair was mohawked on her back, and she was growling. She stayed within my view at my request and I shortened the distance between us on the path.
When I got to the bend, she went ahead and I saw she was circling something in a clearing where two trails meet. I could see from the shape it was a small animal and I was thinking either porcupine or skunk. My dog was keeping her distance (good judgment on her part) but I didn't want her to get too close to either of those choices and called her off. I knew that both porcupines and skunks are rather slow moving and we were both fairly safe as long as she kept her distance and didn't rush them. She didn't.
I knew it wasn't a raccoon since it didn't move like a raccoon and I don't think I have ever seen a raccoon get itself in a situation such as this, out in daylight (though it was soon dusk) and cornered by tall grass. No, I dismissed the possibility that this was a raccoon early on.
When my dog came back to me, the creature backed by the tall grass between he and I, turned as my dog spiraled around, and I saw its tail. Flat. Wide and flat. A beaver? Was this a beaver in the grass?
Now I have seen raccoons aplenty, scare them and give them an escape route and you are safe. They will always run away if given a chance. I have also seen porcupines relatively closely (though they are rather scarce these days), they move slow and they are all defence. They will never rush you. Give them lots of space and you will be fine. Skunks too, I have encountered. They have habits similar to raccoons but move very differently. They stamp with their front paws as their first warning before turning to show their tail as a second warning. If you take the hint and leave when you see the tail up and their hindquarters pointed at you, they won't spray. I have been fortunate to call my dog off twice when viewing a skunk hindend with tail up and know they will only spray if their warnings aren't heeded. So if this creature had been skunk or porcupine, I felt rather confident that my dog and I would pass unscathed.
But I have never seen a beaver up close before.
My dog and I were both on the same side of the beaver now and the beaver was facing my dog. I looked again and slowed. Neither was making noises and neither was challenging the other. I continued to approach and look at the face of the creature. I was not yet sure it was a beaver and looked at its face. Otter? Mink? Too big. I have seen a weasel before which is similar to a mink, and the face was all wrong. Like a rat, a weasel's face is pointy, this face was rounder from the nose through the jaw. Brown fur. Mean eyes and crouched low. Fisher? I have never seen a fisher before, but I have heard that they are one of the meanest creatures ever. I lost a dear housecat many years ago and fishers were blamed. If this was a fisher, we were both in trouble. I stopped and looked around for a stick. Spruce sticks aren't very useful in situations like this, too many branches. Spruce branches would be great for a fan, lousy for a spear or bat, so I abandoned the thought and continued to walk. I watched the animal who was watching my dog. It wasn't moving. No stamping, growling or hissing.
I took a chance that it was indeed a beaver and told my dog to proceed down the trail while I would soon achieve the point on the trail directly opposite the beaver's position. My dog was hesitant but did as I asked and turned away from the beaver. She walked a ways down the trail and stopped to re-evaluate. At this point, I was crossing in front of the beaver, who still hadn't displayed any lunging behaviour and while I knew that making eye contact is often considered a challenge, I had never seen a beaver this close. I had also never seen a beaver on land before from any distance. So I stopped and I turned and I looked.
A beaver mostly plays defense. Mostly it plays defense in the water. Slap the tail and dive to safety is the winning play for a beaver and I have heard the tail slap before. But on dry land at least 100 feet from water, it must have been thinking the alternate game and I had no idea what that was. It was facing me now, my dog far enough up the trail that I was the focus of its attention. Little ears and pulled right back tight to its head. Small eyes that were squinted tight and focused on me. And I saw its teeth. Mostly used for chewing through trees and now they were dripping saliva. It was scared and it was standing its ground. Its immobility coupled with its glandular production told me the story loud and clear. It would not make the first move. But it would use all of its archetypal Canadian productivity to do everything it could to ensure its safety. A beaver as a symbol of Canadian identity had been rather embarrassing to me when considering the regal nature of so many other national symbols from the animal kingdom. But now I was looking it in the face. About 13 feet from where I stood, there was a beaver on land, frightened, and ready to defend itself whatever it took. It never considered running away. It didn't even look for an escape route.
I looked ahead and continued walking. I knew it wouldn't rush me when my back was turned. It wouldn't accomplish anything for the beaver. I walked ahead and turned and looked. The beaver waited until I was far enough away and turned to the closest body of water and headed that way. I could see it was following a narrow path, probably been that way many times before. I noticed that it carried its tail a few inches off the ground. I don't know why that would strike me as odd, that the tail was carried straight out rather than dragged but I hadn't seen it before so I didn't know.
I never knew that a beaver was capable of defending itself on dry land until I saw it for myself.