Once I read The MaddAddam trilogy by Margaret Atwood, and in that book, the saints of the vegan organization, the goodies in the book, were people who fought to save the animals before they went completely extinct. While reading this book, I realized that the real saints are not those considered by the church, but the people of this book, who are risking their lives and spending their time to save endangered SPECIES, other creatures that for other people are not at all important. These might be the most incredible people in the world. When I was young I admired idols, not even serious artists, but idols, popular culture idols, especially k-pop idols, after I finished school I started to admire serious artists of the high culture, especially the writers, now I admire biologists, especially primatologists and some psychologists. Why? Biologists see the worth of other creatures and they fight like mad to save them, they are so dedicated and passionate and suffer so much for them, it’s impressive.
I admit that sometimes I found this book boring, I felt like reading the same story over and over again because most species went through the same stages, failures, and then success. But it was all worth it, for these saints it’s worth spending my time reading about them. Many passages made me laugh, Goodall is very funny:
“During my visit with the team, as I came to understand the challenges they faced, I was interested to talk further to Jonathan Proctor about his work with the prairie dogs and the prairie ecosystem. Jonathan explained that one of the main problems for conservationists is that almost no rancher has a good word for prairie dogs. I met one of these old-timers as he drove by Ann’s Motel. The prairie dogs, he said, were a real nuisance. There were all those holes in the ground that caused cattle and horses to break their legs. And, he said, the prairie dogs competed with the herds for the new grass. While no one I talked to had actually encountered any cows or horses with broken legs on the prairie, I listened to his point of view and respected what he had to say. I said it was a shame there wasn’t some way around the problem without poisoning those cute little animals.
“Best prairie dog is a dead one,” he said.”
Then there were times when I literally cried.
“No. 9750 was born the following year in the first cohort of wild-born black-footed ferrets in the Conata Basin. “Their future was uncertain,” Travis told me. “But No. 9750 survived and prospered and became a founder of the black-footed ferret population that now numbers approximately three hundred adults and kits annually in Conata Basin.” No. 9750 lived for four years, which is quite old for a wild black-footed ferret. She had produced four litters and raised a total of ten to twelve youngsters.
In October 2001, Travis came upon No. 9750. She looked exhausted after raising her last litter, emaciated and with thinning hair and deep-sunken eyes. Kneeling to look down at her in the burrow, he knew she would not see another spring. Listening to Travis, I was miles away from the breakfast table, with its empty plates and cups. I was out on the prairie, bleak with approaching winter, with this tough dedicated man who was talking softly, saying good-bye to a very small, very tired black-footed ferret. “I want to say thank you, honey. I know we’ll not see each other again.” I could tell, by his voice, that he was all choked up, but I could not see for the tears in my eyes.”
This was so touching, I was laughing like mad because I kept having in my head Goodall telling me “While no one I talked to had actually encountered any cows or horses with broken legs on the prairie, I listened to his point of view and respected what he had to say.” And when I reached this part suddenly from hysterical laughing I went to powerful crying. This book makes me bipolar.
Now… I loved the most the final part:
There were many people against their projects:
“Jill Jenkins asked, “Can someone tell me what difference it would make in our world as a whole, if this beetle were to become extinct?? I am really thankful our U.S. government wasn’t around to offer grants to keep the dinosaur from becoming extinct. One half million dollars to save a bug when millions of humans are homeless and hungry. We should be ashamed!”
Then someone named J had this to say: “Now I have heard it all! I am getting so sick of our ‘fine’ government making kindergarten decisions like this! We need to save our humans that are inflicted with cancer and other life threatening illnesses before we care about this beetle thing! If I saw one in my house I would smash it!”
I sincerely do not understand this type of people, I would be very sad if only humans were left on earth… What a sad fate that would be. But there will always be saints and there will always be sinners.
Finally, these biologists after they retire dare to admit the truth. They dare to admit that they love these animals.
“Unfortunately in our materialistic world, where all that counts is the bottom line, human values of love and compassion are too often suppressed. To admit you care about animals, that you feel passionately about them, that you love them, is sometimes counterproductive for those in conservation work and science. Emotional involvement with one’s subject is considered inappropriate by many scientists; scientific observations should be objective. Anyone who admits to truly caring about, having empathy with, an animal is liable to be written off as sentimental, and their research will be suspect.
Fortunately, most of the extraordinary individuals whose work is discussed in this book are not afraid of showing that they care. (Particularly those who have retired!) During one of my discussions with Carl Jones, of Mauritius Island fame, he echoed my own belief—that although scientists must have the ability to stand back and observe objectively, “they should also have empathy.” Humans, he said, “are intuitive and empathetic before they are coldly scientific”—and he believes that most “scientists call on these underlying qualities every day.” When he was working to save the Mauritius kestrels, he got to know and understand each bird as an individual. Don Merton waxed lyrical over the black robins, “those delightful, tame, friendly little birds.” Over the years, Don said, “I naturally became very attached—even emotionally involved you might say! I just loved them.” And Len Zeoli, when I asked him what motivated him to keep on working to save the pygmy rabbits, said simply, “How can you see one, know one, and not love these little creatures? That’s what drives us. That is what keeps us going.”
Mike Pandey, while filming in India the barbaric method of killing gentle, harmless whale sharks, came across a huge individual who was dying. “It slowly turned to look at me … beseeching and pleading … the intelligent eyes spoke a million words.” He said he would never forget that look: “Suddenly I was in communication with the majestic creature and there was a deep-rooted bonding.” That was the turning point that transformed his life. He decided to “speak out for the voiceless” and started his long series of powerful films for conservation.
Brent Houston told me of the time when a young black-footed ferret approached him as he sat near the den, in the first light of day. “Without warning, he approached my foot and sniffed my hiking boot … I thought the pounding of my heart would scare him, but I remained still, desperate for some sort of connection. He looked right up at me and at my face, into my eyes. And then the most extraordinary thing happened. This young ferret, looking up at me with his big round eyes, put his little black foot on my hiking boot and he held it there. I looked right at him and he looked at me and he saw me smile. It was one of the most satisfying moments in my long career of observing wildlife. Here was one of the last black-footed ferrets in the world reaching out to me, trusting me, perhaps even asking for my help.”
It is this—this link between the human being and the other animals with whom we share Planet Earth, this connection we can establish with another life-form—that for many makes it possible to carry on. To carry on with work that can be so hard, carry on despite the frustrations and setbacks, and sometimes the outright hostility or ridicule of those who believe that to save any species from extinction is sentimental and a waste of money and resources.”
For this, I held biologists the highest in my regard. Yeah, physicists and mathematicians might be the smartest, but nothing can compare with these biologists’ wonderful hearts. I now regret not studying biology in high school, and university, because I think it’s the most wonderful thing you can do. To me, these are the real saints.