Canis lupus hominis

From Ornithological biography, or, An account of the habits of the birds of the United States of America (1831) :

The pleasant days of spring have arrived, and the trees vigorously shoot forth their buds ; but the opossum is almost bare, and seems nearly exhausted by hunger. It visits the margins of creeks, and is pleased to see the young frogs, which afford it a tolerable repast. Gradually the poke-berry and the nettle shoot up, and on their tender and juicy stems it gladly feeds. The matin[g] calls of the Wild Turkey Cock delight the ear of the cunning creature, for it well knows that it will soon hear the female, and trace her to her nest, when it will suck the eggs with delight. Travelling through the woods, perhaps on the ground, perhaps aloft, from tree to tree, it hears a cock crow, and its heart swells as it remembers the savoury food on which it regaled itself last summer in the neighbouring farm-yard. With great care, however, it advances, and at last conceals itself in the very hen-house.

Honest farmer ! why did you kill so many crows last winter ? aye, and ravens too ? Well, you have had your own way of it; but now hie to the village and procure a store of ammunition, clean your rusty gun, set your traps, and teach your lazy curs to watch the opossum. There it comes ! The sun is scarcely down, but the appetite of the prowler is keen ; hear the screams of one of your best chickens that has been seized by him ! The cunning beast is off with it, and nothing now can be done, unless you stand there to watch the fox or the owl, now exulting in the thought that you have killed their enemy and your own friend, the poor crow. That precious hen under which you last week placed a dozen eggs or so, is now deprived of them. The opossum, notwithstanding her angry outcries and rufflings of feathers, has removed them one by one; and now, look at the poor bird as she moves across your yard ; if not mad, she is at least stupid, for she scratches here and there, calling to her chickens all the while. All this comes from your shooting crows. Had you been more merciful or more prudent, the opossum might have been kept within the woods, where it would have been satisfied with a squirrel, a young hare, the eggs of a Turkey, or the grapes that so profusely adorn the boughs of our forest trees. But I talk to you in vain.

There cannot be a better exemplification of maternal tenderness than the female oppossum. Just peep into that curious sack in which the young are concealed, each attached to a teat. The kind mother not only nourishes them with care, but preserves them from their enemies; she moves with them as the shark does with its progeny, and now, aloft on the tulip tree, she hides among the thick foliage. By the end of two months they begin to shift for themselves; each has been taught its particular lesson, and must now practise it.

But suppose the farmer has surprised an Opossum in the act of killing one of his best fowls. His angry feelings urge him to kick the poor beast, which, conscious of its inability to resist, rolls off like a ball. The more the farmer rages, the more reluctant is the animal to manifest resentment ; at last there it lies, not dead, but exhausted, its jaws open, its tongue extended, its eye dimmed; and there it would he until the bottlefly should come to deposit its eggs, did not its tormentor at length walk off. ” Surely,” says he to himself, ” the beast must be dead.” But no, reader, it is only ” ‘possuming,” and no sooner has its enemy withdrawn, than it gradually gets on its legs, and once more makes for the woods (pg. 455-456).

Now, that’s some good nature writing!

I don’t think Audubon recognized that opossums also ate vegetation, but it is interesting that he recognized that human depredations against wild birds– in this case, crows and ravens– often drove the opossum to raid the chicken coops.

I don’t know how much opossums rely upon the nests of corvids for their sustenance, but this observation does suggest a certain level of ecological awareness on the part Audubon, even if it may not be entirely correct. In this analysis, Audubon clearly thinks that a human activity– shooting too many crows and ravens– causes the opossum to raid hen houses.

I don’t know if it’s true or not, but it does show a rudimentary sense of ecological understanding on the part of Audubon.

Not something one would expect from someone writing in the early part of the nineteenth century.