Kʷiisaḥiʔis (Kwee-sa-hayis), Brave Little Hunter,
happy after a meal of seal meat
In boats, kind people encouraged you
out of the lagoon where you had circled
for so long near where your mother beached:
brave little orphaned whale calf, still nursing
when she died.
You called and called for her
and then grew quiet.
You called and called for her
and then grew quiet.
They saw you roll and flap your tail,
breach joyously when your tummy was full,
but that one meal was not enough
to keep you swimming very long.
It took too long to feed you, too long
to guide you towards the open sea,
your pod by then 100 miles away,
listening for your calls, but so far
they had an inability to hear
your plaintive cries.
I kept listening for messages,
for sightings, with hope
that your brave heart would take you
to your pod.
They last spotted you, swimming bravely
through open seas, in early May.
You were too young to hunt for seal,
and you had only had one meal
since your mama died.
They say it is hopeful you have not been seen,
but I know better. Your silence tells me
all I need to know. But, in my mind,
I keep you swimming bravely
through open seas, Brave Little Hunter.
Let your story be your courage,
your young, brave and hopeful heart,
who sparked such hope in me
that you'd survive.
Kʷiisaḥiʔis (Kwee-sa-hayis), Brave Little Hunter, was orphaned in a lagoon up the coast, where access to the ocean was difficult, affected by the tides. The amazing thing is she survived weeks after her mother died, without being fed. Experts tried various plans to help her out of the lagoon but nothing worked. They hesitated to feed her for fear of her becoming habituated. But they knew she couldn't last long without the seal meat she was too young to hunt.
Then, after five weeks, members of the Ehattesaht First Nations gave her a meal of seal meat. She got really happy, and the meal gave her strength, as they gently encouraged her, to follow them and leave the narrow inlet towards open seas. They say she came to their boat, after, as if to thank them, then started swimming strongly.
I hoped against hope, since she had such a brave heart, that she would reunite with her pod, but by that time they were 100 miles away. It had all taken too long for the small whale. The pod was sighted again in June but she was not with them. She was last seen May 10th, which tells me she just couldn't carry on, unable to feed herself. I hold onto the memory of her swimming through open seas, Brave Little Hunter, searching for her pod.
Life can be heartbreaking sometimes. Especially when animals suffer and die.
for Shay's Word List
I am so pleased you voice the story of The Brave Little Hunter - I love your connection to the natural world with both the joy and realities it brings - Jae
ReplyDeleteThis is just the saddest story... I hope that little orca is alright and all her survival instincts have saved her, but yes, the despair of not knowing for sure... and all the other species we will lose as we hurtle towards 2C... thank you for giving voice to all earth's creatures, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteI know this event touched you deeply, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteVery heartbreaking, Sherry. I know how much you hoped for a better ending. Life is cruel sometimes.
ReplyDeleteOne of this spring's kittens is like that. Dora the Explorer. I don't think she came into this world to stay, but every time I think her chemical sensitivity's making it impossible for her and it's inhumane even trying to keep her alive, she does something that shows that she's here to be loved and enjoyed for every minute that she *is* here.
ReplyDeleteThe other three kittens in the litter are male and started to fall in love with their own tomcat odor. They're too little to be outdoors at night so I moved them into a full-sized cat cage instead of the little baby kitten box in the office closet. Dora spent a few nights alone in the box. She seemed to miss her brothers, but she liked middle-of-the-night and early-morning time alone with her mother--extra milk. (She's tried eating dry kibble but I don't think she keeps it down very well.)
Then she found the crack at the back of the nest box and bounded out of the box to find me, purring her head off, pleased with herself as only a calico kitten can be. So she spent some nights in the cage with her brothers. She seemed to like their company...but...
Last night she ran into the office when the door was open. "If you want to bounce about, you have to be in the cage where you can climb and swing," I said. Dora sat down on a box and purred, "I'll stay right here." And she did. For six hours. Until her mother and her aunt came to the door looking for her, and she leaped out the door and dashed off in search of cat milk.
There are brave young hearts surging forward into life everywhere, in Spring.
I would love to read that you'd adopted a young family, or a few families, that need a good dog in their lives, and were passing your "Wolf Medicine" down to them. The world will always need young people who can respect and appreciate animals.
PK
You tell the story well, Sherry. It is sad she seems not to have made it.
ReplyDeleteHeart breaking - i feel your loss in these words.
ReplyDeleteSuch a sad ending to this little whale's saga, Sherry. I got teary reading your poem, especially "But, in my mind,
ReplyDeleteI keep you swimming bravely
through open seas, Brave Little Hunter" -- which tells me that this brave heart has left us enough of himself to make our hearts braver. Quite a legacy.
Brave orphaned whale! So sad.
ReplyDeleteThis made my cry. Lost lives before they live.
ReplyDelete