Jake was a big man, very used to hard physical labor. He had fists like hammers, a neck as thick as a tree and a body as powerful as a plow horse. The only soft part of Jake was his heart. Jake worked with a crew of 5 in the lumberjacking business. One day, while working a ridge of soft timber, Jake put his tender side to good use. The buzz of the big saw was abruptly replaced by a loud creaking that culminated in a sudden, popping crack. The above canopy began snapping. Branches showered to earth everywhere. A sudden big thud was followed by silence as the wooden giant lay still on the forest floor. As the crew of men began lopping off branches, Jake noticed two of the men laughing as they probed at something with a tree limb. "Let’s get it out of there," said one of the men in a low growl. "I hate those things" spat the other. Jake started over to investigate, as did the other men in the group. "Let’s just throw him in the mulcher," said the man holding the branch. "Hold on a minute," Jake barked, "What’s going on? " As Jake got closer he witnessed a porcupine pinned under a section of the downed tree. It was making a pathetic mewing sound, seemingly in pain, confused, and very frightened. One of the larger men approached it and raised his big boot in an attempt to stomp the trapped creature. Jake quickly lunged forward and gave the man a shove. "NO!" he shouted as the man stumbled off balance. A few of the others in the group began to protest. They argued how destructive and disliked porcupines were. Jake held his ground. Everyone knew about Jake’s love for wildlife, and though they disagreed with him, he was respected, both for character, and size. No one truly wanted to challenge him. They all knew that Jake would stand firm, even if it meant a physical confrontation with them all. And so it went, Jake rescued the whimpering animal, and drove him miles to the nearest wildlife rehabilitation center.

This year I received my first porcupine since I began wildlife rehabilitation over a decade ago. I received it as a result of a similar situation. He was displaced by lumbering, and lost his home and territory. "Elmer," was a hand full. I suppose a hand full is an incorrect way of putting it. Actually, this is the type of animal where "hands-off" rehabilitation practices are most advised. Fortunately, Elmer’s injuries were minor, and best left to mend, on their own. Supportive care would be the best course of action. The real problem for Elmer and me would be his length of stay. Because he would have to acclimate to a new territory, find an available food source and shelter, I could not release him until our winter offered a several day stretch of favorable weather. Until then, Elmer would have to be my indoor guest. It is not an easy task to remove an adult porcupine for frequent cage cleanings. Becoming buddies and establishing an understanding just does not happen. You just cannot make compromises with a ball of 30,000 quills and a flailing spiked tail.

I solved my dilemma by housing Elmer in a dual sectioned, homemade hospital cage. A sliding center wall kept Elmer sequestered to one side of the unit so I could clean the unoccupied side unmolested. To clean the other side, I merely had to slide the center wall partially open, and gently coax Elmer to the clean side, with a gentle nudge of a small stick. Elmer would offer protest with a powerful lash of his quill-covered tail, but would yield and waddle for the safety of the other chamber.

The next challenge we faced would be to somehow prevent Elmer from chewing his way out of his plywood prison to the freedom of my basement. Porcupines love to chew plywood. Someone once told me that it was due to their love for salt. Apparently the glue used in the manufacturing of plywood either contains salt, or must taste like salt; I’m not sure which. Anyhow, I supplemented Elmer’s diet with as many salty things as I could think of. This strategy was undertaken in the hope that he would be satisfied with salty food, as opposed to the walls of his enclosure. He loved salted peanuts, Saltine crackers, and salt poured over monkey chow. Every night I fed him monkey chow, which is a totally balanced herbivore diet. He also received a large apple, a banana, salted peanuts, and his saltine crackers. I tried a wide variety of other fruits and vegetables, but he showed no interest in them. The North American Porcupine, (Erethizon dorsatum) is our second largest rodent. The porcupine has lived in North America for over 3 million years. It is slow moving. Although they are not often seen, because they are nocturnal, their handiwork can be observed in the destruction of canoe paddles, wooden tool handles, and other wooden objects handled by man. Salt from perspiration on our hands is transferred to tools. When left outdoors at night, this keen nosed animal makes a feast of these items. In winter, the draw of road salt causes car / porcupine collisions.

Adult porcupines average 10 - 28 lbs. and are about 18 to 28 inches long. They have a small head and small legs, a strong tail and very long, sharp hooked claws as well as creased tough footpads to aid them in climbing trees. The American Porcupine is the only tree climber in the porcupine family. The single most obvious identifiable feature of the porcupine is its sharply pointed quills. Porcupine quills are actually stiff hollow hairs. They have 3 separate layers of hair. The first layer is insulation for warmth. The second layer is designed to keep off rain and snow, and the third layer is the creature’s highly effective defense mechanism. Each animal has over 30,000 quills. The quills are loosely attached to the animal’s skin so that they are easily detached in a defensive encounter. (Porcupine’s cannot shoot their quills!) When threatened, the porcupine will raise and separate its’ quills and curl up in a ball. When attacked, it will swing its tail at any aggressor. Any creature that gets hit with the tail or brushes against its body will be instantly impaled with a bunch of barbed spikes. Normal, healthy adult animals know enough to avoid dueling with a porcupine. This is why an adult raccoon found with a snout full of quills is usually a good indication that the raccoon is rabid. Porcupines re-grow lost quills in about 2 to 8 months. It’s interesting to note that when a baby porcupine, called a porcupette is born, it takes about 30 minutes for its quills to harden. The quills are hollow, making them quite buoyant and able to swim. Each quill is layered with tiny, stiff hairs that grow out in an angle that act as barbs. Muscular movement by the victim can cause a continued inward path through flesh once secured. Without attention, the skewered victim can die from infection or a pierced vital organ. Removing quills is difficult and painful. Bobcats, wolverines, fisher and a few other predators know how to flip the porcupine onto its back, to get to the unprotected undersides.

A female porcupine usually has only one porcupette per season. They remain with their mother until they are 2 months old. In summer, they eat vegetation and fruit. They change their diet in winter to eat the cambium layer under tree bark, as well as the bark, branches and conifer needles. These amazing animals do not only use their quills for self defense. In conjunction with their large strong claws, the stiff quills on the tail are used as a brace to help them stay attached to tree limbs. While resting on a limb, a porcupine will flatten itself and appear to be a tree nest. Now that I have had the pleasure of rehabilitating one of these living pin cushions, I have learned that they are a remarkably docile animal that only want to be left alone. I have looked deep into the eyes of a porcupine and have gained a whole new respect for them.

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