Canis lupus hominis

I saw a mink yesterday evening. It had rained all afternoon, and after the rain had stopped, I decided to go for a walk.  After it rains, all sorts of creatures come out. The rain makes it difficult for the prey species to smell their predators coming or hear them approaching. When the rain stops, they come out to feed. I see the most deer and rabbits right after a good rain, especially if the rain stops just in time for dusk.

The meadow where I saw had just been mowed, so this mink was probably searching for small organisms that get chopped up by the mowing machine.

It was also within 20 yards of a farm pond. I’m sure it checked the pond for any dying fish or those that have already expired. However, I doubt that it found any. This pond has its own predatory fish that cull the sick, and those that die from other causes wind up food for a few channel catfish that have been stocked for that purpose.

The mink saw me approach. Mink know fully well what our kind thinks of them. We either see them as predators that raid our chicken coop or as luxury fur coats.  It knew that a person meant danger, so it galloped off in its rocking weasel gait for dense thicket on the opposite side of the meadow.

However, I knew that this thicket abuts a neighbor’s property, and I also knew that this neighbor keeps a flock of chickens and several Guinea fowl. Mink are known to prey on domestic poultry, and they have also been known to surplus kill. I know that it is just a matter of time before this mink kills one of his birds, and then it will be the end of the mink.

But I enjoyed seeing this little predator, even though I just caught a fleeting glimpse of its chocolate-brown form scurrying into the thicket. This species is quite widespread in North America. It has even colonized Europe through accidental and intentional introductions.

I should state here that the European mink is now classified with the ferrets and polecats. In fact, a European mink has been bred with a European polecat to produce hybrid offspring.

The only close relative of the American mink was the sea mink, which was either a subspecies of the American mink that lived on the coast of New England and the Maritimes or a unique species that made use of the tidal zones to make its living. It went extinct in 1894, when the last specimen was captured on an island off the coast of New Brunswick. It was said to have a superior coat to the American mink. Its coat was reddish brown to tawny in coloration, which is roughly the same color as the American marten’s coat. That’s probably why it was referred to as the “water marten” or “sea marten” in early colonial texts. It was said to have a distinctive musky odor that was of a different type than that of the American mink, and it was roughly a third larger.  It also may have had a lighter build than the American mink, for Sir Humphrey Gilbert described the sea mink as  “fyshe like a greyhound.” (In those days, of course, a fish was anything that lived in the water.)

The sea mink was trapped to extinction for its lovely red pelt. When it went extinct, taxonomists had not fully determined whether it was a subspecies of the American mink or a distinct species of weasel.  We may never fully know its exact taxonomy. This animal is unfortunately lost to the sands of time.

So I hope this dear mink makes out better than its coastal cousin. Its species is far from extinction, but this animal’s life could be in danger. We can only hope that it avoids the poultry houses and chicken coops.