Nature: Here's how the Ohio Wildlife Center helped rehabilitate 2 baby minks

 

A newly released male mink gets his bearings/Jim McCormac

Nature: Here's how the Ohio Wildlife Center helped rehabilitate 2 baby minks

Columbus Dispatch
August 20, 2023

NATURE

Jim McCormac

No one in the world needs a mink coat but a mink. — Murray Banks

Of Ohio’s 54 extant native mammal species, perhaps none eclipse the Mustelidae family in charisma and interesting behavior. This group includes the badger, river otter, three species of weasels, and the American mink.

The mink is the world’s best-known furbearer, and it occurs throughout Ohio. Minks are coveted worldwide for their silken, lustrous fur, and coats made of mink remain a major status symbol. High-end mink coats can fetch five figures or more.

From the 1930s into the 1990s, over 10,000 minks were trapped each year in Ohio. Today, only a fraction of that number is trapped. Most mink fur now comes from mink farming. This is an abominable practice that entails selective breeding of a mammal ill-suited for captivity purely to cater to fashion whims. Cruelty driven by vanity.

Minks frequent stream banks and pond margins. A mink in motion is a sight to see. It resembles a mammalian Slinky, moving in gracefully fluid undulating bounds. While largely nocturnal and seldom seen, minks are big enough to notice: A male might stretch to 2 feet and weigh over 2 pounds.

As with most of their weasel brethren, minks are ferocious hunters. Fish are a dietary staple, and minks will plunge to depths of up to 15 feet to capture piscine prey. They’ll also catch small mammals — baby rabbits and muskrat are favorites — and songbirds. Victims are rapidly dispatched with a pinch on the neck like Mr. Spock — a rapid powerful bite to the vertebrae. Turnabout is fair play, and a common predator of minks is the great horned owl, one of its few mortal enemies.

When males hook up with females from late winter to early spring, they establish a streambank burrow in which to raise their pups. The average litter is 4-5 pups, although ambitious parents may occasionally have up to 10. The pups need intensive parental care for nearly two months, with most food caught for them. After about two months, the pups begin to learn hunting skills from their parents and are on their own by early fall.

I was pleased to receive word a few weeks back from Gwen Hoogendoorn about a pair of minks that she was looking to release. The two unrelated young males were taken to the Ohio Wildlife Center (OWC) back in May, after their parents had been killed by dogs. The OWC is the largest rehabilitator of wild animals in the state, accepting over 7,500 animals involving around 175 species annually.

Gwen, a lieutenant colonel in the Ohio National Guard and vice president of the Ohio Wildlife Rehabilitators Association, has volunteered for the OWC for over 20 years. She fosters myriad animals each year until they are ready for release. Gwen received the minks when they were about five weeks old and eyes barely open. Good care, lots of nutrition, and a safe environment, and come mid-August the minks were ready to strike out on their own.

I suggested Battelle Darby Creek Metro Park as a potential release site, and Metro Park authorities approved the project. On Aug. 10, Gwen and the minks met me, ranger Elaine Hall and other interested observers at the park. Minks in a box, we traipsed far out into the largest prairie restoration project in Central Ohio, sidestepping scores of leopard frogs along the way.

At first, the minks were tentative about leaving the confines of their shelter, but one soon emerged and took to the waters of an adjacent wetland like a fish. Baby minks must learn about water from their parents, but Hoogendoorn had gradually acclimated them to water while they were in her care. The young minks frolicked like otters, and even caught a frog. The other minks soon exited and joined its buddy in racing through the vegetation.

These two minks will soon go their separate ways, but they’re in excellent habitat filled with prey: fish, frogs, muskrats, voles and other mink delicacies. They will become part of the ecological web of one of Ohio’s greatest remaining prairies.

The Ohio Wildlife Center deserves kudos for its tireless work in caring for animals that, in most cases, have been orphaned or injured by peoples’ activities. Whenever possible, and that’s in the great majority of cases, successfully rehabbed animals are released as these minks were.

For more information about the Ohio Wildlife Center, visit: ohiowildlifecenter.org.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature atjimmccormac.blogspot.com.

Mink punks muskrat, scares ducks!

The tranquil waters of the pond at Char-Mar Ridge Park in Delaware County, Ohio. I made my second visit to this site yesterday, and left scratching my head as to why I've not been here more often. It's only 20-25 minutes away, and the place can be a goldmine for bird photography. There is a fantastic roofed observation blind - where I made the shot above - and it's one of the best-sited blinds that I've seen. Not only is it in a great location, but is positioned such that the light, especially in early morning in spring and fall, is ideally suited for lighting subjects on the pond.

UPDATE: A little while back, I wrote a piece about another Preservation Parks of Delaware County site, Shale Hollow Park. That column, which appeared in the Columbus Dispatch and which I shared on this blog, HERE, touted the virtues of the park district and its holdings. I am pleased to say that one week later, Delaware County voters overwhelming approved passage of a park levy continuation, along with a small increase, by a 62% to 38% margin. People do like their parks and wild spaces and we need to do all we can to support effective conservation organizations.

Back to the subject at hand. A stunning quartet of hooded mergansers - two drakes bookending a pair of hens - steams along between underwater fishing forays. They, and numerous wood ducks, were my primary quarry on this day. Persistent autumn foliage is still tinting the water with color, making for nice waterfowl photo ops.

When I arrived at the blind shortly after sunrise and cast my eyes on the scene out front, one of the first thoughts that I had was "this looks perfect for a mink!" These aggressive weasels love to hunt along shorelines of ponds, lakes, and wetlands, and I've seen them in such settings numerous times. Here would be a great potential photo opportunity if one of the tubular beasts would make an appearance.

Sometime later in the morning, a fellow photographer, Victoria Koroleva, appeared in the blind. I had not previously met her but had seen her work on Facebook. One of the great things about Zuckerberg's massive social media outlet is it often "introduces" people before they actually meet for real, and this was one of those cases. At some point I verbalized my mink-aura feelings to Victoria, and it wasn't much later that she exclaimed "look! a mink!"

The mink appears, just across a narrow arm of the pond. This was a wonderful opportunity to observe the beast without it being alarmed, as it didn't know we were there. Mink, for all practical purposes, are raging psychopathic homicidal well-furred mammalian slinkies. They rapidly bound about with an exaggerated undulating gait, exploring all nooks and crannies and prepared to pounce with murderous intent as soon as a victim shows itself.

The mink rapidly moved along the bank, poking under logs and occasionally pausing to scan its surroundings. Interestingly, on a few occasions it dove into the shallow water along the pond's edge, temporarily disappearing from sight. I think I know what it was looking for.

Soon after the mink turned a corner of the pond and vanished from sight, we saw a muskrat rapidly swimming towards the middle of the pond from the immediate direction of the mink. Once it got out there, it paused and just floated motionless low in the water for five minutes or so. I'd not seen this behavior from a muskrat before, but it wasn't hard to decipher what was going on.

I imagine the mink's underwater dives were to search out and enter the burrows of muskrats. The latter often create subterranean lairs with the entrance under the water. Mink are said to be quite fond of muskrat meat and are more than capable of killing them. I suspect the mink nearly caught this 'skrat unaware, and the rodent fled to deeper water and a strategic advantage. It's probably a very lucky muskrat.

After a while, the muskrat paddled back to shore and hauled out on a log. And there he sat for quite some time, not moving a muscle and casting wary glances about before finally disappearing.

As the mink continued its shoreline rampage, it eventually got into a sheltered cove at the rear of the pond where many of the ducks retreat. The fowl apparently didn't like the ferocious weasel either, and suddenly a cloud of ducks skittered out of there and onto the pond's open waters, including this pair of gadwall.

It's fascinating to watch the dynamics of a situation when a dangerous alpha predator appears. Just about all of the animals go on alert, or outright flee to safer spots. The mink was a wonderful addition to an already fantastic outing, and to watch it in action, acting naturally, was a huge perk.

Nature: Known for fur, minks are voracious predators

An American mink in Battelle Darby Creek Metro Park

Columbus Dispatch

September 3, 2017

NATURE
Jim McCormac

The American Fur Co. was founded in 1808, and for a brief time in the 1830s, it was one of America’s largest companies. Its success made its founder, John Jacob Astor, the first multimillionaire in the United States.

Although demand for beaver pelts drove much of the American Fur Co.’s business, other mammals were vital to its success, especially the American mink. As the easier-to-trap beaver became increasingly rare, the mink became more important to trappers.

Between 1820 and 1900, the American Fur Co., Hudson’s Bay Co. and other fur purveyors sold about 12.5 million mink pelts.

Fortunately, these large weasels survived the days of indiscriminate trapping and are common today. But they are often wary, largely nocturnal and usually difficult to observe in the wild.

I recently visited Battelle Darby Creek Metro Park to photograph birds, arriving around dawn. I was not long into a grassy trail that weaved through a marsh when who should come bounding down the path? A mink!

Like a semi-psychotic mammalian Slinky, the mink romped along the trail, moving rapidly in exaggerated, undulating bounds.

When it got within 20 feet of my position, the hunter finally noticed me and careened into the cattails, but not before I took a series of photos in the dim light.

Mink belong to the Mustelidae family, which includes weasels and otters. Of Ohio’s regularly occurring mustelids, only the river otter is larger. A big male mink — males are 15 to 20 percent larger than females — can measure 2 1/2 feet from nose to tail tip. It might weigh nearly 3 pounds.

While a 3-pound mammal might not seem like much, in the case of the mink, it’s Genghis Khan, Jack the Ripper and Attila the Hun rolled into a well-furred, tubular package. Just ask a muskrat. Even though these aquatic rodents can significantly outweigh a mink, they often fall prey to the voracious predators.

Streams and wetlands are the bailiwicks of mink. The animals play an important role in the food chain, taking fish, amphibians, small mammals, birds and other such fare. Would-be victims are in a tough spot if they land in the sights of a hungry mink, which has speed and the ability to swim and even climb trees.

Few predators will attempt to take a mink, although coyotes and great horned owls might try.

A mink that finds itself among prey aplenty adopts a kill-and-cache strategy. It’ll dispatch everything it can and attempt to hide the uneaten victims. On occasion, the owner of a poorly secured chicken coop learns about mink killing frenzies.

Come early spring, minks become amorous. As befits such a savage animal, the mating process is not lovey-dovey. The male seizes the female, pins her and often bites her neck and head. After she’s survived that rough romance, she’ll deliver four or five pups in an underground burrow.

Humans who act like minks are likely to be institutionalized, and good thing. But we have nothing to fear from these fascinating beasts, although we can be grateful they’re not the size of bears.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com.

Mink: long, low, and slinky

A young mink, Neovison vison (formerly placed in the genus Mustela), snarls at your blogger from a grassy roadside verge. I made this photo a few years ago, along the entrance road to Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge. Yes, the minklet looks "cute" but rest assured he/she is every bit the savage predatory tubular sausage that is the stuff of which lesser creatures' nightmares are made.

Photo: Bill Fisher

In an utterly remarkable coincidence, I was motoring down the causeway that bisects Magee Marsh Wildlife Area last Sunday, when a gorgeous adult mink shot across the road. The Magee causeway is only a few miles from where I made the first photo, of the juvenile mink. That was quite cool indeed, as I probably see only one or two of these weasels a year, at best.

But the proximity of my two Ottawa County mink sightings was not the remarkable coincidence that I speak of. At almost the exact time that I watched last Sunday's mink tear across the road, my Droid chimed to let me know of an incoming email. I checked it a bit later, to see that it was Bill Fisher sending along a stunning series of... mink photos!

Bill is Director of the Crawford County Park District and an enthusiastic outdoorsman. He was in the park system's Lowe-Volk Park on Friday, April 13th, when he encountered the beast in these photos and Bill was kind enough to allow me to share them.

ASIDE: The Crawford County Park District is relatively young, but it ranks among Ohio's top park systems in terms of creativity and activity. Thus, it was fabulous news when Crawford County voters easily passed a 0.4 mill, 10 year levy last month to support the park district. Its passage speaks to the quality of the Crawford County Park District, and the connections its employees have made with the county's citizenry.

 Photo: Bill Fisher

In Bill's first photo, the mink is entering a crevice between a few rocks. It may be hunting, but I wonder if that is its den site. Such a cranny would be perfect for a mink nest, and hopefully Bill and/or Josh Dyer and/or Warren Uxley can keep tabs on the situation. With a bit of luck and good timing, they might get to photograph some "cute" minklets such as the one in the first photo.

Mink seek out fissures between rocks, gaps between tree roots and similar sites for denning. A bit more grisly is their not uncommon appropriation of muskrat lodges for such purposes. You've seen muskrat lodges - they're those roundish heaps of cattails piled in the waters of shallow marshes. If a mink decides it wants to commandeer a 'skrat lodge, it enters and kills the rightful owner.

 Photo: Bill Fisher

Like the rest of its weasel brethren, mink are voracious predators and strict carnivores. They'll run down everything from fish to frogs to birds to rabbits. To go totally anthropomorphic, mink are like low-slung mammalian homicidal psychopaths, and nothing smaller is safe from a hungry mink on patrol. Every now and again, one manages to weasel its way into someone's chicken coop, and the aftermath isn't pleasant. Chances are good that the mink will kill every chicken in there. Can't blame the mink, though - they're just doing what minks do. And they were here long before coops stuffed with tasty chickens.

Photo: Bill Fisher

I love this shot. Major kudos to Bill and his camera work. Having some knowledge and experience with these mammals in the wild, I can attest to just how difficult it is to get one in the camera's view finder long enough to make such a photo. It's behavior in allowing such an approach makes me wonder all the more if its den isn't in those rocks. This is the time of year when they are raising young, too.

As can be surmised from this mink's damp fur, these animals are highly aquatic and nearly always found in close proximity to water. The pelt is water-resistant and has wonderful insulating qualities. Its cloak of dense silky fur allow the mink to operate throughout the winter, shunning the hibernatory ways of less hardy mammals. The fur is also coveted by humans, and a mink coat is regarded as a major status symbol in some quarters. A well made full length mink coat can fetch upwards of $10,000. Wild trapped mink pelts are currently trading for about $21.00. Most mink fur today comes from so-called "mink ranches", and that's a whole other subject and not necessarily a pleasant one. I'd far rather see my mink in the wild, and mink fur harvested responsibly from wild animals.

Thanks to Bill Fisher for sharing his fabulous photos.