Tomorrow, we drive to NE Oregon to spend a week or so in our yurt (and a few other places). The creature I fear most on this trip is not the cougar, wolf or porcupine. It’s much smaller. Most females and the younger males of the species could fit into the palm of my hand.
Bushy Tailed Woodrat, Northeast Oregon, 2009
The Bushy-Tailed Woodrat (Neotoma cinerea) is one of various packrat species that inhabit old buildings as well as caves and rockfalls throughout the West. Keeping them from moving into homes, sheds, barns, cars, tractors, and woodpiles is a constant battle. They shred clothing, bedding, furniture and run off with anything they can carry.
Everyone in the rural West must have a packrat story. We’re collecting ours as fast as the packrats take our stuff.
One summer, I lost a single garden glove. I knew I had set both gloves down together but could only find one. I looked everywhere. Several weeks later, I found it in a fresh packrat nest under the yurt. We dismantled that nest, and the packrat moved into our truck engine.
Packrats are determined and destructive. I worry they’ll chew through the yurt walls and nest inside when we’re away for the winter.. Our shipping container keeps them out pretty well, but last summer, a few wandered through the open door, got locked in and then chewed a hole in the rubber seal. We patched that, but with packrats it’s hard to tell how well anything works.
Still, I can’t help but be intrigued by packrats. They’re curious and engaging. For they’re size, they’re surprisingly bold. The one pictured above lives in the root cellar of the old collapsing homestead. We see it whenever we raise the door. It usually stands its ground and stares at us for a bit before scampering away.
Packrat nest in rocks, Northeast Oregon, 2009
Packrats do provide benefits to humans – an extraordinary benefit, in fact. The anthropologist in me loves packrats.
Because packrats collect plants, animal bones and human artifacts and pile them up in dry rock shelters, they have inadvertently created an archaeological record like no other. And their sticky urine (which makes cleaning up after them horrid) is a natural preservative. So packrat middens throughout the Western United States provide remarkable documentation of changes in environment and climate over tens of thousands of years.
I’ll try to remember the archaeological value of packrats when we arrive at our yurt and take an inventory of what they’ve gotten into or spirited away. So nice to know our disemboweled pillows and shredded dishtowels might enlighten an archaeologist hundreds or thousands of years from now.
For more on packrat middens:
USGS/NOAA North American Packrat Midden Database
Too cute! I was tickled by their bravery, not to mention the idea of having to take inventory at the yurt so you can determine what they’ve borrowed while you were away. In that sense, they’ve always reminded me of ferrets with their gathering and hording.
Thanks, Jason. On this trip, we found no evidence that they took anything or nested in the yurt. That sure makes them easier to enjoy.
Delightful post. I recognize the struggle between viewpoints: frustrated homeowner sees destructive pest where nature lover sees fascinating wildlife. So interesting about the packrat’s value to archeologists.
Thanks, Melissa. I try to find something to like about most critters (except maybe mosquitoes and ticks, though I’m sure they play some ecological role too).