The fox and the field mouse

I look forward to Mondays when I get to wait in the car to pick up my son from his piano lessons. I have around ten minutes between my arrival and when my son's joyful face appears from the piano teacher's house. Her house is situated in a golf community on a cul-de-sac, with a golf course behind it and a view of Mount Sopris, often lit by the setting sun at that time. While I wait, I often spy wildlife, catch deer nibbling on aspen tree shoots, and occasionally, I would see a fox. Last Monday, as I sat there taking in the view, I witnessed a National Geographic scene unfold. On the left side, I saw the fox. On the right side, a small rodent, maybe a gopher or a prairie dog (gotta brush up on my field animal knowledge). A field mouse, most likely. My view was unobstructed.

The fox walked along gracefully, then it crouched down, it must have smelled or saw the gopher - stalking its prey. The fox slowly zigzagged its way closer to the gopher, its eyes fixed on her prey, preparing to pounce. My heart rate picked up as I could almost sense the fox salivating, grinding its teeth, and plotting its dinner.

Meanwhile, the gopher in the field went about doing its gopher thing, collecting seeds it looked like, from a nearby bush. It suddenly halted, sensing the danger nearby, and it froze, minimizing all movement. As the fox approached, the gopher appeared to collapse. Is he playing dead? I wondered.

The fox, now near the field mouse, seemed put off by the motionless prey. It picked up the gopher, tossed it aside, swished its tail, yawned, and moved on.

I fight the urge to go check on the little dude, I kept my eyes on the fox, admiring her graceful walk I wondered if she would find dinner that night.

After some time, the mouse begins to stir, starting with a small movement. I imagined it opening its eyes, sniffing the air, and slowly twitching its ears. It must sense that the threat is gone. The mouse moved its head and legs, gradually rising, looking around, and then shaking vigorously before scuttling away under the nearby bush.

Who do you find yourself rooting for? Is it “run mousey run”? Or “get him fox”?

Professionally, I am currently working on a project that involves understanding the autonomic nervous system states (the Fight, Flight, Freeze, and Fawn responses) and I was fascinated by what I saw play out in the field and seeing the nervous system responses that the scene illustrated.

There tends to be this moral judgment on killing and predator behavior but it is so natural. The fox doesn’t go on killing more than she needs to survive. She might even have cubs to feed. As humans, we need to be able to occupy both extremes of the nervous system spectrum - the predator and the prey. Bring home the bacon and also play with our cubs, fight when we can, flee when we can’t, and appreciate the kindness of the freeze repose. It anesthetizes us, when in freeze the pain (physical or emotional) is numbed.

The gopher froze and collapsed - this is not a conscious decision but a survival instinct, his nervous system considered fleeing as an unviable option for survival and opted to freeze instead. Genius - the collapse also numbs any potential pain.

I marvel at the ability of wild animals not to be traumatized. The gopher/mouse shook off the stored energy of its inability to flee and goes on living its rodent life (for now), not avoiding the bush or the field. No PTSD. It doesn't avoid the field despite the previous encounter with the fox. It continues to live its gopher life.

This gave me an idea to share with you all. I can see these nervous system states super clearly in my children. Once I understood what these nervous system states look like in my kids - I see when they make conscious decisions to misbehave and when it is just their animal body reacting to circumstances. I will delve into this topic further in the next articles.