animal tracking – Page 3 – Linda J. Spielman

Squirrel Marking

Some animal communication is just for the moment, gone as soon as it is created, and some is more permanent. Whether it’s a patch of earth pawed by a deer, a scat deposit carefully positioned by a fox, or a twist of grass left by an otter, messages left in physical media can convey information long after the author has left the area. Squirrels are especially adept at this type of messaging, and their medium of choice is something they are intimately acquainted with–wood. Tree trunks, branches, roots–all can serve as bulletin boards for intra-species communication. One of the best times to observe squirrel marks is early spring, after the snow is gone but before new leaves limit our view through the forest.

The photo below shows an opening into the trunk of a large red maple. Hollow trees provide critical winter shelter, and this one must have been prime real estate because the hole has been bitten around the edges by a squirrel. Gray, red, and flying squirrels (of both sexes) use their incisors to declare ownership of desirable nesting spaces. Theoretically the sizes of the gouges should tell us which species did the marking, but the hole was about thirty feet up, and it’s hard to measure tiny things like tooth marks when you’re that far away.

The creature claiming possession of the tree in the next photo is easier to determine. Gray squirrels, primarily males, make vertical marks called stripes to assert territorial claims. They seem to prefer rough-barked trees like the white oak pictured in the photo, and the stripes are generally found on large trunks between 2 and 6 feet above the ground. I’ve also seen gray squirrel stripes on red oaks, chestnut oaks, hickories, and tulip trees. After marking, a squirrel may rub its cheek on the bitten area to leave its scent. You can see from the varying degrees of weathering that this tree has been marked repeatedly over several years.

Red squirrels also have distinctive ways of creating messages, and one of the easiest to find is the branch marking associated with conifer middens. Middens are accumulations of discarded cone scales and cores found below habitual feeding perches. The photo below shows a midden at the base of a Norway spruce. Most conifers, with the exception of some pines, tend to retain lower branches for years after they have died, and these provide perfect feeding perches. The oversized cones (up to 8 inches long) produced by Norway spruces are prized by red squirrels, and the middens came become quite large.

If you examine the branches above a midden you’ll probably find bite marks like the ones shown in the next photo. The image shows a Norway spruce branch which extends horizontally about four feet up the trunk. The upper surface of the branch is adorned by numerous bite marks. You can see the midden (out of focus) on the ground below the branch.

Red squirrels also make marks at or near ground level. In the photo below you see a Norway spruce root which has crossed over and been lifted over the years by the swelling root crown of a neighboring tree. This tree was part of a plantation that dated from the 1960s, and the trees were close enough together that horizontally spreading roots often passed close to the bases of neighboring trees. This also happens in other conifers when they grow in crowded stands, and the small lateral roots have thinner bark than the trunk and the larger roots.

A closer look, shown in the next photo, shows that a red squirrel has bitten through the bark of the lateral root. The light colored gouges are recent marks and the whitish ones are older, probably made the previous year and covered with dried resin.

Norway spruce plantations were established throughout the east during the Depression and also later in the 20th century. With their large crops of oversized cones, stands of Norway spruce are preferred habitats for red squirrels and are great places to investigate red squirrel marking. Other conifers were also used for reforestation projects, and if they support resident red squirrels you’ll probably find evidence in the form of marking and middens. Both branch marking and root marking are the animals’ way of defending their underground larders of winter food.

Squirrels also use their incisors for purposes other than marking, such as debarking trees to get at the living cells of the cambium. The photo below shows a staghorn sumac that was fed on by a gray squirrel. I found this a few years ago in early March, and the color of the exposed wood indicated that it had been done not long before. Late winter and early spring can be a time of scarcity; stored food supplies may be exhausted and squirrels may be forced to turn to foods which are less nutritious or harder to access. I’ve occasionally found similar cambium feeding by squirrels on sugar maples.

Squirrels, both red and gray, also tap trees when the sap flows in spring. The animals choose vigorous trees, and bites are made in living, thin-barked branches by anchoring the upper incisors and drawing up the lower ones. This creates what Sue Morse calls a d0t-dash pattern. Two fresh bites on a sugar maple branch are shown below, and above them there’s an older bite. Interestingly, the sap is not consumed immediately, but is allowed to dry. Once the water has evaporated the squirrel returns to lick up the crystallized sugar.

When we find a mark made by a squirrel, we can infer something about the availability of food or the presence of a desirable nesting site, but for other squirrels there’s much more involved. The associated cheek rub or saliva deposit is unique to the individual and carries information about its sex, health status, and possibly other characteristics. Even though receiving these messages is beyond our abilities, I enjoy finding squirrel marks and imagining the messages they convey to their neighbors.

Gray Fox Affairs

It’s been a strange winter. In my neck of the woods we had some significant snow early in the season, but no big storms since then. Temperatures have been up and down (more up than down), and with all the melting, the snow we do have has consolidated into a dense, icy layer. Much of the time the conditions have been terrible for tracking, but every once in a while something wonderful has happened: warmth and liquid precipitation have been followed by dropping temperatures and a change from rain to snow. When this happens, snow that falls while the air is still relatively warm becomes bonded to the crust. As the temperature drops and additional snow falls, it forms a soft layer on top. The result is a non-slip and easily navigable surface that is a perfect medium for recording tracks.

A few days ago I encountered just such conditions: an icy base covered by a thin layer of soft snow. I was in an extensive natural area, and both the forest road I was following and the surrounding landscape offered beautiful tracking conditions. Animals of all sorts had been moving easily over the snow, and there were tracks everywhere. I found myself following the trail of a gray fox. The animal went for quite a distance at an easy trot, but then it did something that was quite puzzling.

The photo below shows the fox trail as it goes from upper left to lower right. (You can also see a coyote trail to the right of the fox trail, and a mountain bike trail to the right of that.) As it entered the frame the fox was walking (the first three tracks at the upper left). In the next section (between the last walking step and the edge of the tree shadow) the pattern was very different, and following that the trail looks unlike either of the previous sections. I wanted to know what was going on and why the middle section looked so different.

In a situation like this the first thing to do is identify each track. The zig-zag of the walking section helps us to tell right and left, and the fact that the front foot is larger than the hind foot distinguishes front from rear. The next photo shows a gray fox front print on the left and a gray fox rear print on the right. You can see the difference in overall size and also the difference in the sizes of the middle pads.

The photo below shows just the puzzling middle section, and if you compare photos you’ll see that the front and rear in the photo above are actually the first two tracks in the middle section. It’s pretty clear that the first four prints in the photo below are left front, left rear, right front, right rear. After that it gets harder. The track just above the right rear is smaller than the one to its right, so those two prints must be left hind, left front. Three tracks from the right side come next, and it looks to me like the sequence is right rear, right front, right rear. The final two before the tree shadow are the left front and the left rear, and at the edge of the tree shadow there’s a right front with a right rear partially superimposed on it.

In the next photo I’ve added labels showing my take on right/left and front/rear. If we start at the beginning of the whole sequence, the animal was trotting (those tracks aren’t seen in the photos) and then slowed down to a walk (the first three tracks in the distance shot). The next section shows that the fox slowed even more to an overstep walk (the first four prints in the photo below), then slowed even more to an understep walk. There’s an extra right hind that’s puzzling, but I’m guessing the fox just repositioned its right hind foot. Then the overstep walk reappears after which the fox picked up the trot (the two impressions at the lower right in the first photo). Notice that the step lengths in the overstep part are shorter than the regular walk steps that preceeded them, and the step lengths in the understep part are shorter yet.

That analysis was rather involved, but it leads to a picture of what the fox actually did. As it trotted along something it detected made it slow down, first to a walk and then almost but not quite to a standstill. It was probably sniffing and listening intently as it moved very slowly. Once the animal concluded that it was okay to move on, it resumed its journey at a trot. It’s impossible, without more evidence, to know what caused the fox to react the way it did. It may have been a threat, but it could also have been something that interested it for a different reason. It is, after all, mating season for wild canines.

And the fox I was following was definitely tuned in to mating season. Farther on I found a spot (shown in the next photo) where the animal had detoured to urinate on a small spruce branch. If you look in the center of the frame you’ll see a squiggle of urine that runs horizontally from the upper edge of the spruce branch. Because the urine wasn’t squirted out the side of the tracks we know this was a female. She would have lifter one hind leg forward and supported herself on the other hind leg (plus two front legs) as she urinated. The relative depths of the tracks tell us that the supporting rear foot was the left. Its track is in the prominent double impression above and to the left of the urine.

I’ll never know what made the gray fox slow down and leave the pattern discussed in the beginning of this article. It could have been a threat–there was certainly a coyote in the neighborhood, or it could have been the mountain biker. A fisher (whose tracks I also found on that day) would have made the gray fox nervous. And there were red fox trails as well. But the trail shown in the photos above doesn’t suggest alarm so much as cautious interest. The fox didn’t change direction but just continued on. Was it another gray fox, one she was familiar with, or one she had mated with in a previous year? We have a small part of the whole story, and we can only speculate about the rest, but it’s fascinating just as it is.

Mouse Maneuvers

The mouse–not most people’s favorite creature, to put it mildly. Certainly the house mouse can be a serious pest, but wild mice are different creatures altogether. To start with, they are more attractive than the drab house mouse, as you can see from the portrait of a white-footed mouse which heads this post. The white-footed mouse is one of two species which inhabit the northeast, the other being the deer mouse. They are closely related (both belong in the genus Peromyscus) and are so similar they can’t be distinguished from tracks or sign. Habitat may indicate which one we’re dealing with, but from the tracker’s perspective it’s not really important, since they have similar characteristics and behaviors. White-footed mice prefer deciduous and mixed forests at low and moderate elevations. The trails shown below were most likely made by deer mice, which are more common in boreal and high elevation forests.

Both deer and white-footed mice are hunted by just about every predator in our region, so they stay hidden whenever they can. In warm months they find safety within woody debris, shrubs, blowdowns, rocks, log piles, and sometimes human structures. In winter, snow usually provides ample cover. Mice are able to tunnel through snow if it’s not too dense, and deep snow actually contributes to their survival. Within a deep snowpack the temperature is highest at ground level and decreases toward the surface. The temperature gradient causes ice crystals in the lower levels to sublimate and recrystallize at higher levels, leaving spaces where small animals can find safety and warmth. Hollows at tree bases, among rock outcrops, and under downed logs and branches allow mice to move between the surface and the lower regions (the subnivean zone). That’s why the trails in the photo above radiate from the base of the tree at the upper edge of the photo.

The next photo shows a steep, snow-covered embankment at the edge of a groomed snowmobile trail. A mouse (it could have been either a white-footed or a deer mouse) bounded from the lower left across the packed snowmobile trail toward the slope. The mouse turned to the right and then went under a slight overhang where it found (or dug) a tunnel leading to safety in the deeper snow bordering the snowmobile trail.

Look under the log in the next photo and you’ll see mouse trails. Notice how the mouse trails run into (or out of–or both) the cavity at the upper left, a mouse-sized hole at the lower right, and unseen openings under the lower part of the log. As long as these openings are maintained, mice can move easily between the snow surface and the subnivean realm. The log also provides protection from aerial predators.

In soft snow mouse trails on the surface often lead to holes that connect to tunnels deeper in the snow.

Both deer and white-footed mice store nuts and seeds in cavities in logs, standing trees, and rock piles. Once winter comes any space protected by deep snow makes a good feeding area. The midden of black cherry seeds in the next photo shows where a mouse fed beneath the snowpack at the base of a tree. The neat round holes are reliable indicators of mouse feeding.

Mice use logs as travel routes, but we only see evidence of this when a light covering of snow coats the log surfaces. In the photo below you see a jumble of mouse tracks, a few of which show toes clearly enough to reveal the direction of travel. There’s a rear print at the lower left that points toward the left, and you can see a few front tracks near the upper edge of the snow with toes pointing toward the right.

There are other small mammals, voles and shrews in particular, whose trails can be confusingly similar to those of deer and white-footed mice, especially when they are bounding. But the bounds of voles and shrews are less regular and have more variable foot placement than the bounds of mice. Voles and shrews also use a greater variety of gaits than mice, including walks, trots, bounds, and lopes. Voles especially are likely to make frequent gait transitions, and often use a perplexing gait sometimes described as a shuffle. Mice can walk but it’s rare, and I’ve never seen evidence of a mouse trotting, shuffling, or loping.

Deer and white-footed mice are relatively long-legged and athletic, and they sometimes make long leaps. Voles and shrews, with their chunkier bodies and shorter legs, can’t jump nearly as far. So if you find a trail with leaps like those in the photo below, you can confidently assign it to a mouse rather than a vole or shrew. The tail marks are another clue. Mice have tails as long or longer than their body length. Both the short-tailed shrew and the woodland vole, the two species most likely to be confused with deer and white-footed mice, have very short tails and wouldn’t leave long tail marks like the ones in the photo.

The white-footed mouse trails in the next photo show the typical consistency of pattern and leap length, but the one on the left demands a second look. It begins at the bottom, a little to the right of center, goes upward for a few leaps, and then takes a hard turn to the left. After a few more leaps the trail circles back to the right and proceeds toward the top of the photo where there’s a fallen branch sticking out of the snow (just outside the frame). Each time it turned the bounding mouse flung its tail to the outside for balance, leaving conspicuous tail marks. There’s a pile of snow that was kicked toward the rear where the mouse turned left, and where the trail curves back toward the right the landing/takeoff depressions are deeper. These observations suggest extreme bursts of energy.

We’ll never know for sure, but the most likely explanation is that a threat spooked the mouse. There’s no sign of an actual attack, so the mouse evidently survived, but it must have been alarmed by something. Deer and white-footed mice, along with other small rodents, are in constant danger of predation, and we sometimes find evidence of a successful hunt (see my post for March 1, 2022). But most of the time mouse trails tell us they survived to live another day.

Possum Puzzles

The opossum is a humble animal, slow moving, shy, and generally of a placid disposition. But opossums can present surprising challenges to the tracker, not the least of which is getting a handle on the tracks themselves. To understand opossum tracks it may be helpful to see the animal’s actual feet, so let’s take a look. The photo below shows the underside of the left rear foot of an opossum–it resembles a human hand with a large, widely angled thumb and four additional, finger-like toes. If you hold up your left hand with the palm facing you, you’ll see the resemblance. Try to imagine your hands as the rear feet of the animal.

In the next photo you see the opossum’s left front foot–very different from the rear. The five toes of the front foot are somewhat finger-like and similar to each other in shape, and the middle pads are quite bulbous. Both front and rear feet are adapted for climbing but are less ideal–especially the rear feet–for moving on the ground. This, combined with the animal’s heavy body and relatively short legs, means opossums are not very agile.

Now let’s look at opossum tracks. In the photo below the right front track lies on the left and the right rear track lies behind it on the right, both tracks oriented toward the left. The spreading toe indentations of the front track radiate from a compact grouping of middle pad impressions. In the rear track the thumb points to the side (downward in the photo), and the other four toes are closer together and angled to the opposite side (upward in the photo).

Because the opossum rarely moves faster than a walk (or sometimes a trot), front and rear prints are often partly superimposed, and that’s another source of confusion. (The animal whose tracks are pictured above was drinking at a puddle, so it left some nicely separated prints.) In the photo below you see a left rear and a left front track, oriented toward the right. The two tracks are so close together it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. If you look at the right side of the frame you’ll see five similar toe marks radiating outward from four closely set middle pad impressions. That’s the left front track. The hollow made by the thumb of the left rear track sits just behind the front middle pads, and above it you can see the middle pad and toe indentations of the left rear track.

The indirect register walk is the opossum’s preferred gait, so we often see sequences of front and hind prints like the ones shown above. In the photo below an opossum walked from the lower left to the upper right, leaving the zig-zag pattern typical of the walk. Each angle of the zig-zag is composed of front and rear prints from one side, and in each of these couplets the hind print lies just behind the front print. The sequence of tracks is right rear, right front, left rear, left front, right rear, right front, left rear, left front.

When tracks are less distinct, possum trails can be downright perplexing. The next photo shows another walking opossum trail, again proceeding from lower left to upper right. The rear feet fell farther behind the front feet at each step, but the zig-zag pattern can still be seen. A few of the prints are recognizable as possum tracks, and the rest are just weird looking.

If an opossum needs to move a little faster it shifts into a trot, leaving a trail like the one shown in the next photo (oriented from lower left to upper right). It’s harder to sort out front and rear tracks in this trail because the snow was dry and the faster gait created more disturbance. But if you look closely you’ll see that the rear tracks are consistently just behind the front tracks. The sequence of prints is right rear, right front, left rear, left front, right rear, right front, left rear, left front.

We know it’s a trot because the trail is straighter than the walking trails shown in the previous photos, and the distances between the sets of tracks are slightly greater. There must have been a slight hitch in the gait of the animal that made this trail, because the claws of one of the right feet (it’s hard to tell whether it was the front or the hind) seemed to brush the snow each time it moved forward to the next landing spot.

You may have noticed that none of the possum trails I’ve shown so far have tail drag marks. Opossums don’t drag their tails as often as people may think, but it does sometimes occur. Here’s a photo of a possum trail (oriented from upper left to lower right) with a nice tail drag mark. Don’t worry if the direction of travel isn’t obvious–it’s hard to tell from the photo because of the angle. A fox left a galloping trail on the left side of the frame, moving from bottom to top.

Much of the opossum’s winter diet comes from scavenging on carcasses, and the animals don’t generally move very far away while a food source lasts. So if you come across a possum trail it’s worth following–you may find a feeding site, or even a den like the one shown in the next photo. I had to climb through and around lots of tangles and thickets, but I eventually found the den the opossum was using while it fed on a deer carcass not far away.

Opossum tracks and signs give us a window into the lives of the animals. But I’m fond of them for an additional reason: the tracks are just so quirky. In fact, the consistent peculiarity of possum tracks is one of the clues to their identity. So be alert for weirdness, and when you find it, consider the opossum.

Where Do The Bones Go?

Have you ever wondered what happens to all the bones? Animals are dying all the time, and when they die their soft tissues are eaten by predators and scavengers, picked off by birds, ingested by insects, and decomposed by microorganisms. This leaves just bones, like those of a rabbit shown below. But we don’t see bones littering the landscape, so what happens to them?

First let’s consider small animals. When a tiny creature such as a vole is killed by a predator, the catch is swallowed whole and the bones are crushed and partly assimilated. Undigested bone fragments are eliminated in scat (or pellets if the hunter was a hawk or owl). You can see small bone fragments in the red fox scat shown below–there’s also plant material, tiny hairs, and what appears to be a whisker. Scat like this will eventually be weathered and dispersed into the soil. Even if a small animal isn’t completely consumed immediately, its remains will be broken down, dispersed, and probably hidden from our view by its surroundings.

But what of larger animals whose carcasses would be more obvious? Deer immediately come to mind, but the question also applies to bears, coyotes, woodchucks, raccoons, and other similar sized animals. We do occasionally see the remains of recently deceased animals, like the deer carcass in the next photo, but why don’t we see piles of old bones lying around everywhere?

The answer has to do with the nutritional value of bones. The deer femur in the next photo was cracked open by a coyote to get at the marrow. (I say coyote because the only other animal in our region which is powerful enough to break a deer leg bone would be a bear, and there were no bears in the area where the bone was found.) Toward the upper end of the larger piece you can see some striations which were probably made by the coyote’s molars as it worked at the bone.

We sometimes see evidence of the utilization of bones this way in scat. The coyote scat in the next image contains an abundance of deer bone fragments and deer hair. The hair would have cushioned the sharp bone edges and prevented injury to the animal’s digestive system. It wouldn’t take long for bone fragments like these to be hidden in the upper layers of soil.

In addition to marrow, bones contain calcium, phosphorus, and other minerals which may be lacking in the diets of wild animals. Mineral deficiencies are especially likely for herbivores. Many animals supplement their nutrient intake by chewing on bones, and they usually choose less daunting ones such as scapulas, ribs, and vertebrae. The bones of birds, reptiles, and smaller mammals such as rabbits can also be utilized by less powerful animals. Even deer have been observed chewing on bones. This kind of chewing may not leave obvious signs–just ragged edges, missing ends, or random gouges.

Rodents also gnaw on bones, and the evidence of their activity is often more conspicuous. In the next photo you see a segment of deer leg bone lodged on a midden at the base of a Norway spruce tree. Middens, piles of discarded cone cores and scales, are created when a red squirrel repeatedly uses a favorite perch to feed on cones. The red squirrel that claimed this tree must have used the same perch to work on the bone.

In the next photo you can see the grooves made by a squirrel’s incisors as it chiseled off bone shavings.

Smaller rodents, like voles and white-footed mice, leave finer grooves like the ones in the next photo.

These creatures weren’t after marrow, since the bones were relatively old and the marrow had been removed long ago. This behavior is probably driven in part by the need to supplement their mineral intake, but rodents also chew on bones (and antlers as well) to maintain their teeth in good condition. Their incisors grow constantly, and are subject to malocclusion if not shaped and worn down with regular gnawing. The same is true for rabbits and hares, which are also known to gnaw on bones.

As time passes carcasses are pulled apart and bones are cleaned of soft tissue, scattered, broken, crushed, pulverized, chewed, and ingested by many different animals. Rather than piling up as useless cast-offs, animal bones gradually disappear as they are utilized by living creatures. Animals are part of the web of life both while they are alive and after they are dead.

Conspicuous Communication

If you’ve ever found a pile of feces perched in a conspicuous spot, you’ve encountered a message from an animal. Canines are especially likely to communicate this way, and they’ll use any location that makes a good exhibit. The photo below shows red fox scat displayed on the base of a fallen log. There’s both recent and older scat–recognizable by its lighter color–indicating that this location has been used more than once. One older chunk is nestled in the center of the new deposit and another rests below it on a shelf of wood.

Our olfactory abilities are too limited to appreciate the complex bouquet of chemicals in scat, but for canines–and probably other species–each deposit conveys information. The specific content of the communication could be establishment of a territorial boundary, advertisement of mating availability, or reinforcement of group cohesion. Scat can also indicate the health, status, and identity of the animal which produced it. The coyote scat in the next photo was in the center of a road rather than on a raised object, but it’s placement made it noticeable nevertheless. I found this in June, when we would expect coyote parents to be leading their offspring on short explorations, and my best guess is that the message was territorial in nature.

Important locations may accumulate a number of deposits. The rock in the next image must have been significant, because there are four different scats on the rock and several more which fell off to one side and aren’t visible in the photo. All of the deposits were left by red or gray foxes, and the contents include apple skins and seeds, hair and small bones, and insect parts. The most intriguing one is the chunk at the lower right.

A closer look shows that it contains porcupine quills.

An ant mound formed the pedestal for the red fox scat in the next shot. I found it in early spring, so the ants would still have been deep underground when the animal stood on the mound and dropped its feces directly on top.

Manhole covers can provide suitable display locations. The red fox that left the scat in the next photo had dined on a small rodent, as indicated by the short hairs and small bones it contained. The manhole cover was in a grassy trail and allowed the scat to stand out in the uniformly green surroundings.

Sometimes scat seems to represent an assertion of confidence. Coyotes will kill foxes, so the smaller canines are usually careful to avoid encounters. In the photo below a recent gray fox scat (at the lower right) sits on an older accumulation of coyote scat. The deer hair in the coyote scat shows that the animal had scavenged on a mostly cleaned out carcass, while the gray fox had eaten meat from a fresher carcass.

Any protruding object is a potential platform for canine scat. The photo below shows a deposit of coyote scat on a pile of horse dung.

In the next photo you see one of my most surprising finds. A gray fox had deposited scat on top of a rock cairn which marked a trail junction. This must have required a delicate balancing act, because the pile of rocks was tall enough that the fox would have needed to place at least one rear foot on the cairn.

The conspicuous locations often chosen by wild canines mean that we often notice the scat left by wild canines. We’re less adept at interpreting the messages contained therein. But even if we miss what’s most important to the animals, it’s fun to enjoy the creative and sometimes whimsical positioning of the scat of foxes and coyotes.

Seeing the Forest And the Trees: Lessons from Raccoons

Details versus the big picture–in tracking we need both, but sometimes one can get in the way of the other. We can focus too closely on the small details and miss the overall view, or we can see a larger pattern but miss the crucial fine points. The tracks of the raccoon present challenges on both levels, so they can be helpful for balancing both perspectives.

In the photo below you see two raccoon tracks, a left rear (on the left) and a right front (on the right), oriented toward the top of the frame. Both tracks have the five finger-like toes characteristic of the raccoon. Indentations made by the claws can be seen ahead of each toe, and the undivided middle pads show behind the claws. There are also heel impressions in both front and hind tracks. They’re not as deep as the impressions of the toes and middle pads, but they show up because their texture matches the texture of the other parts of the tracks.

Compare the left rear track shown above to the left rear print in the next photo. In the image below the toes are also finger-like, and they’re held even more tightly together, but the middle pad looks different–it’s shaped like a trapezoid rather than a C. There’s also no heel impression.

The next photo shows a right front print. It’s toes are similar to the toes of the right front in the first photo, but they spread less. And the middle pad is not quite the same; instead of being symmetrical it extends farther back on the outside of the foot. Another difference is the lack of a heel impression.

In general front tracks are smaller than rear tracks and have more spread in the toes. The middle pads of front and rear prints also differ: those of the rear tracks are generally broader with more gently curved front edges than those of the front tracks. Because of these differences it’s usually possible to tell front from rear prints in the raccoon.

It gets trickier when the tracks are incomplete. In the photo below of a right front raccoon track (oriented toward the left) only four toes show, and they’re not very finger-like. The middle pad impression is faint, and you need to look closely to see the curved leading edge. This kind of track could easily be mistaken for that of a different animal.

But we don’t want to miss the forest for the trees. The arrangement of a series of tracks is as important as the details in the individual tracks. The image below shows the typical pattern of a raccoon moving at a pace-walk from right to left: tracks in sets of two, each pair composed of a front from one side roughly next to a rear from the opposite side. This is different from the regular walk commonly seen in deer, house cats, dogs, and wild canines, in which the superimposed front and rear tracks from the same side form a zig-zag pattern. In the raccoon trail shown below the details of track structure that were covered in the preceding paragraphs allow us to distinguish front from rear prints. For instance, in the pair of tracks at the upper right the rear print (larger with a broader middle pad) is above and a little ahead of the front print (smaller with a narrower middle pad). The sequence of tracks, starting from the right, is left front, right rear, right front, left rear, left front, right rear. In each pair the rear print is a little ahead of the front. This position isn’t a constant–the relative placement of the two tracks in a pair can vary, but is usually maintained unless the speed or attitude of the animal changes.

With that pattern established, let’s look at an interesting variation. The photo below shows a similar pace-walk pattern, again proceeding from right to left. Although the track details aren’t as clear the relative sizes suggest that the sequence, starting from the right, is right front, left rear, left front, right rear, right front, left rear, left front, right rear. But what are those extra marks? In each of the left rear prints ( the ones in the first and third pair) there’s a deep gouge behind and some light claw drag marks ahead of the actual track. And the right rear tracks (the ones in the second and fourth pair) seem to be connected by continuous drag marks. Grooves and drag marks like these are not usually seen in raccoon trails and indicate that the animal was injured.

This close-up shows the details better.

By the way, you may have noticed a few gouges in the snow in the first pace-walk photo. These aren’t foot drag marks because they don’t connect with the tracks. The best explanation is that the raccoon was carrying something, probably a prey animal, that hung down and touched the snow at every other couplet of tracks. We see this kind of evidence more often in canines and felines, but raccoons will take small mammals if the opportunity presents itself .

Now that we’ve explored raccoon tracks at both detailed and big-picture levels, here’s a final example. When thaws or seasonal changes create seeps in the winter snowpack, raccoons are quick to explore them for edible items. In the photo below a raccoon made two trips between seeps, leaving muddy drips and beautiful mud tracks on top of the crusted snow. The upper trail goes from left to right and the lower one from right to left. In each trail the pace-walk pattern is clear, with the larger rear prints falling slightly behind the smaller front prints. The track details show nicely: the finger-like toes, the narrower middle pads of the front tracks, and the tighter arrangement of the rear toes.

The forest and the trees–both the big picture and the fine details are necessary in tracking. And it’s even more complicated, because there are more than two levels. There are details within details, and larger views beyond large views. The ability to move among many levels is not only essential for effective tracking. It adds depth and excitement to any tracking experience.

Dust Baths

The photo above (by Rajesh Kalra) shows a house sparrow in the throes of a dust bath. By rolling, wiggling, and scooping up dust with its wings, the bird covers itself with dust, then shakes vigorously to fling the dust in all directions. You can see a dust bathing bird in action here. It’s believed that dust bathing helps to clean dirt and excess oil from feathers and skin, and to suppress parasites. Without this kind of maintenance the bird’s health would suffer and flight efficiency would decline. Dust bathing is a common behavior in many birds.

Once the bath is finished and the bird is gone, the evidence remains in the form of body-sized hollows. Dust baths sometimes appear as roughly circular cleared spaces surrounded by vegetation, as in the photo below. The diameter of the sandy hollow (15 inches) strongly suggests turkey.

Sometimes feathers provide definitive evidence of who the dust bather was. The dust bath in the next photo is ornamented with a few body feathers belonging to a ruffed grouse. There’s also a partial track below the feather. At roughly 8 inches across, this dust bath was the right size for a grouse. The bird had chosen an inactive ant mound, and the finely processed soil was a perfect medium for a good cleansing thrash.

In the next photo you see a dust bath that holds definitive evidence of the bather. A turkey tail feather lies on the lower left side, and a clear track sits in the center. Finding tracks as good as this one is unusual, because they are generally obscured as the bird shakes the soil off. The whole area was large, about three feet across, but the hollow made by the turkey’s body was about 18 inches across.

Some bathing spots don’t seem very enticing. The grouse dust bath shown below was located in a gravel road and couldn’t have been very comfortable. The hard surface must have yielded very little dust, so I wonder how much benefit the bird’s effort yielded. Maybe it was the best site the grouse could find.

Birds aren’t the only creatures that take dust baths. Large herbivores such as bison and elk often roll and wiggle in dusty spots, and small rodents are frequent dust bathers. Rabbits and cottontails also enjoy an occasional roll in the dirt. The next photo shows a snowshoe hare dust bath. Rear tracks show as sets of claw marks on the left and indistinct shapes on the right.

Another mammal that likes to roll in sand or soil is the otter. The animal that made the roll shown in the photo below had just come out of the water, and part of its motivation was to dry its fur. The sand bath also probably helped to clean the otter’s fur and remove excess oil. You can see flattened areas where the sand was pressed down by the otter’s body, and there are some tail marks on the left. The disorganized collection of tracks in the center is interesting. It looks to me like the animal shook itself vigorously to throw the sand off, lifting and placing its feet several times in the process. It then proceeded on its way toward the top of the frame.

Dry, loose substrates are preferred for dust bathing. Dusty roads or trails, sandy deposits, fine humus, and decomposed logs are likely places to find dust baths. Small birds and mammals often choose hidden locations for their hygienic activities. Turkeys usually establish dust baths in open sites where escape is not hindered by obstacles. But wherever you find them, you should check out any strangely hollowed or cleared spots you come upon. You might have found the location of a seldom seen part of a wild creature’s life.

Red Squirrels and Norway Spruce: A Special Relationship

The staccato warning call of a red squirrel is a common sound in our northeastern forests. These feisty animals are extremely protective of their territories, and they seem to react to the presence of people as much as to other squirrels. Red squirrels are found in both hardwood and coniferous woodlands, but their numbers are highest where there are extensive stands of conifers. In the Northeast one of their favorites is the Norway spruce (Picea abies). These majestic trees are native to northern Europe, but were planted extensively during the 19th and 20th centuries. Their tolerance of poor soils made them ideal for degraded sites, and many stands were established on abandoned farm land during the Depression.

Open grown Norway spruce trees are impressive for their height and form. The specimen shown above exhibits the large cones (up to 6 inches long) and the drooping branchlets that help to differentiate Norway spruce from other spruce species. In plantations the huge cones littering the ground reveal the tree’s identity, and even fairly young trees show drooping branchlets like those in the next photo.

Red squirrels feed on the cones of many different conifers, but they find the large fruits of the Norway spruce especially attractive. Cones are stored in underground larders and supply the animals with sustenance over the winter and often well into spring. Red squirrels like to feed on perches, and in winter they favor low branches located above or near their larders. Years of use can result in impressive middens of discarded cone scales and cores like the one below.

Conifer cones reach maturity in late summer, and the period between the exhaustion of the previous year’s provisions and the ripening of the new crop can be a lean time. Tree buds, berries, underground tubers, and insects help to carry red squirrels over this stretch, but conifer cones are their go-to choice. For most conifers species the cones don’t provide much nutrition until they have reached nearly full size, but Norway spruce is different. Because of their size, even immature cones attract hungry red squirrels. I’ve found evidence of red squirrels extracting tiny seed meats from the current year’s cones as early as late June. At this stage logs and stumps are often used as feeding perches. The red squirrel that left the remains in the next photo found a perfect picnic table.

In the close-up below you see the partly processed cone and some of the cone scales and seed remnants. Squirrels work on cones starting at the base, tearing off each scale and biting a hole in each seed coat to extract the nutritious contents.

Sometimes the accumulations of cast-off cone scales and seed remnants can be quite colorful. In the photo below there’s a pile of cone scales in the upper left and a scattering of winged seeds in the center. At the very top of the frame you see the outer aspect of several scales. Their exposed tips are bright green and the parts that were overlapped by the scales below are tan or reddish. Below and to the left of those, there are several scales with their inner sides showing. The green ovals outlined with red show where the seed wings were positioned. In the center of the photo you see what remains of the seeds, tan seed coats attached to the maroon seed wings. Ragged openings in the seed coats show where the meat was extracted.

The next two photos show the inner aspect of a single cone scale. In the first shot there’s one winged seed on the left, still lodged where it formed. The squirrel extracted the meat by biting into the base of the seed without displacing it. For the next shot I removed the seed so you can see how it rested against the inside of the scale.

As red squirrels begin to feed more and more on the current season’s cone crop, brightly colored discards pile up on the brown remains from previous years.

In a month or so red squirrels will begin the serious business of putting up stores of cones for the coming winter (see my post, Bounty From Above, September 14, 2020). If you do some investigating when you come across stands of Norway spruce you’ll get a look into the lives of red squirrels and the seasonal cycles which have shaped their behaviors.

Knowing Coyote Tracks

Coyotes are one of our more common predators, but when we find a possible coyote track it can be difficult to identify it with certainty. Could it be a fox? Or maybe a bobcat? And there’s also the possibility of domestic dog. Dog tracks show up almost everywhere and are often mistaken for coyote. In this post I’ll share some thoughts on how to separate coyote prints from some confusing look-alike tracks.

First let’s deal with felines. The bobcat track below is a right front print, oriented toward the top of the frame. Like coyotes, bobcats have four toes and an undivided middle pad, but unlike coyotes (and other canines) bobcat tracks are asymmetrical. They have a leading toe (the second from the left in the photo) and a trailing toe (the right-most one), and the middle pad is canted to the outside. Try this simple test for symmetry: Imagine a vertical line which passes through the center of the track, and then imagine folding the right half of the track over onto the left half. You’ll see that they don’t match up. Now do the same thing with the track in the next photo, a coyote front print, again oriented toward the top of the photo. You’ll see that the right half matches almost perfectly when folded onto the left half.

Both the bobcat and the coyote prints pictured are clear and complete, but because of varying conditions some bobcat tracks–especially rear prints–appear more symmetrical, and canine tracks sometimes have an asymmetrical look. Fortunately, there are other features that can help to distinguish the two. An important feature is the shape of the ridges between the toes and the middle pad. In the coyote track the large ridges between the toes and the middle pad form an X, and at the central point of the X there’s a dome. The major ridges in the bobcat track don’t form an X–they could be described as a squashed H or a partly rotated C-shape with some kinks. Another characteristic to look at is the relative sizes of toes and pads. In bobcat tracks the toes are small in relation to the overall track size, and the middle pad is large. In coyote tracks it’s the reverse: the toes are larger and the middle pad is smaller in relation to the overall track size. In the coyote track there are some delicate claw marks, two close together ahead of the leading toes and a lighter one on the left outer toe. Claw marks are absent in the bobcat photo. If more grip is needed a cat may extend its claws, but claw impressions are much less common in bobcat tracks than they are in coyote (or other canine) tracks. Bobcat prints also tend to be rounder, and coyote prints are more oval or egg-shaped.

Then there’s red fox, whose tracks overlap with coyote tracks at the lower end of the coyote size range. The next photo shows a red fox front print, oriented toward the right side. It’s similar to the coyote track in being symmetrical, and in having the canine X and dome, but there are some features that separate it from coyote. The hair that covers the underside of the fox’s foot shows as striations in the toes and middle pad. This hair gets worn down as the season progresses so it may be less conspicuous in late summer and fall, but in early winter a new growth of thick hair develops. Red fox tracks in snow often have a blurry appearance because of the dense hair. The undersides of coyote toes and middle pads are bare of hair in all seasons, so the toe and pad impressions have smooth surfaces and crisp outlines.

In the middle pad of the red fox print there’s a curved indentation (vertically oriented in the photo) made by a ridge of tough skin that protrudes through the hair. This bar or chevron (present in the front foot and very rarely in the rear foot) is unique to the red fox and, when visible, separates it conclusively from the coyote. In the preceding photo of the coyote track you can see that the bar is absent.

Distinguishing coyotes from domestic dogs can be the toughest challenge. Dogs are so variable that there aren’t any absolute criteria, and many dog tracks are similar to coyote tracks in size. The photo below shows the rear (on the left) and front (on the right) prints of a coyote, oriented toward the right. As in most canines the rear track is smaller than the front. Note the absence of claw marks except for the delicate, closely set pricks ahead of the leading toes of the front foot. Both front and hind tracks are oval in overall outline, and their middle pads are small in relation to the overall track size.

Coyote rear (left) and front (right) tracks

Comparing those tracks with the dog tracks in the next photo, we see some clear differences. The front track of the dog (above) is more rounded and has a larger middle pad. The claw marks in the front print are more robust and are present ahead of all four toes. The rear print of the dog (below) is slimmer than the front but has a conspicuous middle pad, and there are claw marks ahead of all four toes.

Domestic dog front (above) and rear (below) tracks

Dog tracks like the front print below (oriented toward the top) are even easier to identify. The large middle pad and the thick claw marks are strong indicators, but the most striking feature is the spreading of the inner and outer toes. Many dogs have “floppy” feet. Because they are not as active their feet lack the muscle tone of wild canines, and their toes spread more. The inner and outer toes and claws may point to the sides rather than straight ahead. Dogs that get plenty of exercise, like the one that made the tracks in the preceding photo, may not show this spreading.

Varying conditions can affect the appearance of coyote tracks, and this is where things can get confusing. The coyote front track (facing to the right) in the next photo doesn’t look as neat and tight as the coyote tracks shown in previous photos. There are claw marks ahead of all four toes, the inner and outer toes aren’t as tightly tucked in behind the leading toes, and the claw marks are more divergent. This animal was trotting on soft, moist sand, so it allowed its toes to spread slightly for support. But the track still shows the small middle pad and the delicate claw marks that point toward coyote rather than dog.

Faster movement can have an even greater effect on tracks. The print shown below (a front, pointing toward the right) was made by a galloping coyote. The toes are spread, the claw marks are deep, and the middle pad looks asymmetrical. But even this track shows coyote rather than dog features. The claws are sharply pointed and the middle pad is small compared to the overall track size.

There will always be times when making a firm identification is difficult. The tracks may be distorted or degraded, or there may only be partial tracks. But even if we can only come to a tentative conclusion, we can still observe and learn as much as possible. And the more we struggle with challenging situations, the better we will be at knowing coyote tracks when we see them.