Jeffrey A. Gordon

At times I’m suspicious of the whole idea of humans rescuing wildlife. We cause so much harm to native plants and animals in nearly everything we do that aiding an individual animal in distress can seem like the exception that proves the rule; one step forward in the course of a headlong retreat.

Still I can’t help but feel something of a charge when the opportunity to help out a fellow creature presents itself. If nothing else, one gets to spend a little time studying an animal up close and perhaps gain a bit deeper appreciation of the perils faced by all life on this planet.

Here are three instances during the just-completed Panama La Verde press tour where we may have been able to do some small good by moving animals out of harm’s way:

Above, Bill Thompson III climbs a ladder to free an owl butterfly from a window where it was steadily beating itself to death. My previous efforts to scoot it to freedom using a pool skimmer had failed, so Bill went up after it. Below, he examines this spectacular insect before releasing it.

Later that morning, as we were birding Cerro Azul from a private reserve called Birder’s View, one of the staff came out carrying something sizable in his hand. It turned out to be none other than a White-tipped Sicklebill, a spectacular foothills hummingbird that I’ve only seen once before. Sadly, it had struck a plate glass window, despite the liberal use of falcon silhouettes by the reserve owner.

It exhibited the droopy-eyed pose collision victims so often do. I was thrilled to see this magnificent bird so closely, but it was horrible to think that its life might end so senselessly.

We put the sicklebill in a bush, where it gripped tightly–a good sign. We gathered around to shoot a few last photos. Below, Kees Van Berkel snaps a final shot.

After just a minute or so on the perch, the sicklebill shook its head, threw out its wings, and flew off into the forest. That’s far from a guarantee of recovery–it certainly could have sustained injuries that caused it to die soon afterward. But I sure hope not.

The final story actually happened the day before, Saturday, when we visited the Achiote Road/San Lorenzo area on the Caribbean coast just west of the northern entrance to the Panama Canal. We were on the road into Fort Sherman when we saw a small tourist bus pulled over and several people huddled over something in the road. Something furry.

I was afraid that they were looking at some sort of roadkill. Unfortunately, the relatively intact forests and generally good roads of central Panama combine to produce a lot of highway wildlife carnage. We had just seen a dead Northern Tamandua, or Collared Anteater, a few hours before. But of course, very few tour groups would stop for a dead animal. This one was very much alive.

It was a Brown-throated Three-toed Sloth. The odd orange and black patch in the center of its back marks it as a male. As we approached it, it regarded us from the blazing hot asphalt, trying to gauge our intent.

Of course, it would have been least disruptive to simply leave him alone, but doing so would have carried an extreme risk of his having been run over by other vehicles–sloths don’t move very quickly to say the least. In fact, a sloth out of a tree is nearly the definition of vulnerability, though its claws and teeth are some defense in case of attack. So our local guide, Luis, carefully hoisted the sloth by the armpits and hustled him across to the relative safety of the road shoulder.

Unbelievably, sloths subject themselves to perilous trips to the ground on a regular basis, where they defecate and urinate. Why, why, why? If you’re well adapted to arboreal life, why not just pee from a tree? No one knows for sure–it’s one of those mysteries of tropical ecology that make visiting a place like Panama as stimulating a mental exercise as can be had anywhere.

Did we do anything good for this butterfly, this hummingbird, or this sloth? I honestly don’t know. Life on earth is a complicated, messy affair, to be sure. Perhaps we could have helped out wildlife most by simply staying home. I think not, but it’s certainly an arguable position.

What isn’t open to debate is that these small acts helped us, the participants on the trip. They helped us to know more and to feel more. And that, I think, is reason enough.

Tags: butterflies, hermits, hummingbirds, panama, panamalaverde, sloths

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