In Which There Are Muskrats!

The forecast was calling for a snowstorm later in the afternoon, but the weather was to be conducive to travel up until then. So my husband and I seized the opportunity to get out and have a tiny adventure before it hit.

We hadn't had a chance to celebrate this past week's lovers' holiday together yet, so I decided to treat us to a Valentine's Day meal at Jim's in Bellefonte. After that, we would go for a little hike along Spring Creek.

Last year, we found a new place there. We park my car in a little parking lot, and it's just a few minutes' walk to a really lovely wooden bridge with some great, expansive views of the creek. You can walk further than that, and we planned to, but if you could only make it to the bridge, that would be good enough.

We had just gotten out of my car and started walking toward the bridge, when we both saw something small and dark-colored moving on the trail. It waddled like a porcupine, but was much smaller. Bigger than a rat, smaller than a cat. And sort of round looking. My husband hung back a bit, as I slowly walked toward it, taking pictures as I went.

I realized instantly what it was: a muskrat. It was walking slowly and snorfling along, eating little things off the ground. I have seen just a few of them in person - along the edges of water, of course - most frequently at Millbrook Marsh (see here for a Millbrook muskrat story and here for a muskrat picture).

Wikipedia calls the muskrat "a medium-sized, semi-aquatic rodent." An adult muskrat weighs in around 1.5 to 4.5 pounds. It is omnivorous and has a flat tail, which it uses as a rudder when swimming. A muskrat can close its ears when it swims, and can stay underwater holding its breath for about 15 minutes at a time.

The muskrat had a gorgeous fur coat, as you can see above, and it looked very soft and touchable. (Except for its claws, which were impressively sharp looking!) The critter startled a bit as we got closer, and it zipped over to the vegetation along the creek, where it hid itself from us. We laughed a little at it, then went along our merry way for our walk.

On our way back up the creek, we passed the spot where the muskrat had been, and heard a tiny splash as - we assumed - it took to the water. As we passed the bridge on our way back to my car, we spotted yet a SECOND muskrat.

Once again, I slowly walked toward it, and I got many more pictures of the second one than I did of the first one. You may see a front view of the second muskrat in the extras - see how fuzzy it looks?

How could I tell it was a different muskrat? It had a different personality. Its fur wasn't quite as sleek as the first one. And it behaved rather phlegmatically: while the first muskrat evaded us by running off into the weeds to hide, this one would simply stop and stand completely still, as though by doing so, maybe we wouldn't notice it.

It was the best and only double-muskrat-sighting of my life. Wow, what a great experience! I'm not sure why the critters were out walking along the hiking trail. We had a lot of rain the other day and the water was running quite high and muddy.

My only conjecture was that maybe the high water had pushed them out of their holes, but I admit I am no muskrat expert. Or perhaps every February around Valentine's Day the muskrats go out on walkabout, in search of food (like us), or love, or both. Who knew!?

I am going to share two muskrat stories now, one from the Internet, the other a family story. First, here is the online offering of what was originally a Chippewa tale: How did the muskrat save the world?

Now here is the family story. As we walked away from our friends, the muskrats, my husband and I had the following conversation. Yes, everything about this is true.

Me: I'm sure you've heard this story before. . . . When we were little, my dad did some trapping, and when he would bring the muskrats home, my two oldest sisters would put the muskrats in their baby carriages and push them around the yard.
Husband: How did they keep from getting bit by wild animals?
Me: Who?
Husband: YOUR SISTERS. LIVE MUSKRATS IN BABY CARRIAGES!
Me: DEAD! The muskrats were dead!
Husband: *horrified look* YOUR SISTERS PUSHED DEAD RODENTS AROUND IN BABY CARRIAGES? The baby carriage YOU also rode around in when you were little? YOUR DAD LEFT DEAD ANIMALS AROUND THE HOUSE AND YOU ALL PLAYED WITH THEM?
Me: Oh NO. They were just baby carriages my sisters played with. You know, for baby dolls. Grammy always kept them pretty well supplied with baby dolls. And I hadn't even been born yet.
Husband: But still. Dead animals? In baby carriages?
Me: *as though it were the most normal thing in the world* Well, yes, yes, of course. Muskrats are cute! They look so soft and cuddly. Like stuffed animals! They might have even dressed them up and put bonnets on them. . . .
Husband: *hands over ears* You can't ever tell anybody this story. Promise me you won't ever tell anybody this story. . . .
Me: Um, no . . . it's a good story. . . .

So there you go. Muskrats on mid-February walkabout. Muskrats in baby carriages. Muskrats who saved the world. And tales of (possible) muskrat love.

The soundtrack: Captain & Tennille, Muskrat Love.