Dispatch #27: There is a Beaver-Related Metaphor for Everything Happening in Trump’s America
You're reading Dispatches from East McJesus. Living in East Machias, Maine, can be a bit lonely, so I write to save my sanity. The mission may not succeed, but let’s try to enjoy it.
In case you didn’t know it, I am obsessed with beavers. I love their industriousness and how incredibly cute their babies are. I have been known to stalk them, but only at safe distances with a camera. I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point many years ago I started using “beavered” as a verb and “beavering” as a gerund. For example, below are photos of two beaver snacks Geof brought home to me for my collection. These pieces of art were once trees that got beavered. Beavering results in free home décor for me. As I was considering what to write about for this Substack, I was torn between some sort of ode to beavers and more commentary on American politics, and then I thought, why not both? 🤷♀️ So I’m giving it a shot!
Here we go...
A lot of people in downeast Maine really don’t like beavers because they alter streams on private property in ways that result in things like washed-out driveways. When I dared to make a positive comment about beavers in a local Facebook group, I was immediately attacked for being one of those liberal animal lovers who doesn’t know shit about real life. I was informed that beavers should be exterminated or relocated. That is like what just happened at the Department of Education. Most of the adults were kicked out of the building last week and now all that’s left behind is maybe three blonde interns and a small nest of squirrels holding down the fort.
Beavers are nature’s engineers! I love that about them, even though lots of other people don’t. Here’s what’s weird, though: Our national parks are being destroyed and our public forests are and being clear-cut. When Republicans do that, America is being made great again, but when beavers do it, people are angry and get rid of them. I just want to know why we can’t trap and relocate Elon Musk back to South Africa. Or to Mars.
Geof has a heat-seeking camera. We used to go around taking infrared photos of beaver lodges in the early spring so that we could try to determine if there were babies in the lodges. Well, it was mostly me that wanted to know that, but Geof was willing to go along with it. Sometimes we’d see these little bright reddish-purple blobs next to a big reddish-purple blob and we would debate whether that was a mother and her pups. I was always sure that it was, and Geof was always skeptical, but I know that it was. This all reminds me of the forced vaginal ultrasounds women must endure in order to have abortions in a lot of red states, except that procedure is much more invasive than infrared photography. Mama beavers are treated better than a lot of American women.
One time Geof and I were driving down Route 1 in Salisbury, MA, and we noticed a very sad sight. A huge dead beaver was on the side of the road and I gasped when I saw it. Geof stopped the car, put on some work gloves, and gently moved the beaver’s body off the road and down by the stream behind the guardrail. Geof gave that poor beaver more dignity in death than RFK jr. gave a dead bear cub and a decapitated whale.
I follow a beaver group on Facebook that is run by a guy named Mike who basically lives among the beavers of Saskatoon like Jane Goodall lived among the chimps in Tanzania. He just observes them and they don’t notice he is there. This is like Jeffrey Goldberg being a silent witness to the Signal chat.
I remember reading a great story once about a man in Belarus who was killed by a beaver. Ooh, I found it — here it is. Note: The beaver was minding its own business on the side of the road when the fisherman decided to harass it for a selfie and it went for the guy’s jugular. This is one of my very favorite beaver stories. It reminds me of the killer bunny that attacked Jimmy Carter while he was fishing, except that Carter was acting in self-defense. The man in Belarus made an unforced error that cost him his life, much like Herman Cain did at a Trump rally in Oklahoma.
Whenever I see a beaver swimming in a pond, I scream “BEEEAAA-VERRRR!” like some people scream Fiiiire! Screaming beaver across a pond is the good kind of screaming, and there is often a pleasant echo. Most of the other screaming I do is less fun. I have spent more time than is reasonable (and truly, any amount of time is unreasonable) thinking about screaming.
Beavers are extremely motivated, which is another thing I like about them. They build dams and lodges, and they don’t rest until their work is done. Similarly, Canadians are known for their resilience and civic-mindedness. I hear they are using beavers to build a wall along the American border to keep our fentanyl from flowing into their country.
Once I was in Lubec foraging for mushrooms when I saw three bald eagles standing on top of a beaver lodge. I thought it was an incredible sight! When I got home and mentioned it to Geof, he asked me, “Don’t you know why they were doing that?” I kind of tilted my head, not having a clue what he was getting at. And then, OH NOOOOO. It dawned on me. They were hoping to prey upon the young beavers when they swam out of their lodge. And this is exactly like what the masked men of ICE are doing on college campuses.
Readers, how’d I do?
Hey, you nailed it! The polar opposites of people's beaver sentiments ('Whoopee, beavers!' vs 'Exterminate those varmint vermin!') is a metaphor for all things blue vs red - right? Or is it left?
Another good Sunday morning laugh, Lori - many thanks!!
You did great! I, too, am a beaver fan. We have a lodge in the river right across the street from our front door. Love watching them swim across the river to what I believe is a family member’s lodge in the summer around dinner time. I recently had a discussion about beavers with an attorney who was updating my will. She doesn’t like them for the reasons you mentioned. I very nearly came home and sent her a picture of Nibi hopping in glee while building her baricade at Newhouse Wildlife Rescue. She’s, as I’m sure you know, is an educational beaver now. She needs to visit Maine!