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Dec. 20, 2007, 11:55AM COMMENTARY Uproar over burro plan
By LISA FALKENBERG Copyright 2007 Houston Chronicle
The legendary donkey tale is surely one of the most impressive animal rescue stories ever told.
In 1979, after learning that the National Park Service planned to exterminate hundreds of wild burros, descended from the
gold rush days and living in the depths of the Grand Canyon, Cleveland Amory and The Fund for Animals organized an operation
to airlift them to safety.
Using helicopters and expert ropers, the groups successfully lifted 577 burros from the 7,000-foot canyon and dropped them
on their very own refuge in East Texas. Today, the Black Beauty Ranch in Murchison is home to 330 wild burros, including a
beloved tottering old lady donkey named Friendly who is one of the original Grand Canyon evacuees.
Years later, the wild burros of Big Bend Ranch State Park haven't been as lucky.
The feral population, which wanders back and forth from Mexico, are deemed a nuisance by state parks officials and some
wildlife biologists. They compete with native species, such as mule deer, for resources, they say, and threaten a plan to
reintroduce Desert Bighorn Sheep into the park.
Culling controversyOfficials with the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department say attempts to trap and remove the burros
failed, or were deemed too expensive. So, another policy was discreetly — critics say covertly — implemented.
They started culling them.
Beginning in October 2006, state officials shot to death 71 wild burros in the state's largest park, prompting an internal
investigation into allegations of animal cruelty against some senior officials in the department.
It wasn't just the killing of the revered beast of burden that caused the uproar; it was the way it was done.
The animals were shot "opportunistically" by two high-ranking agency officials as they happened upon the burros while roaming
the park's backcountry. In some cases, the officials, both skilled marksmen, shot the animals from the road in their vehicles.
The burros' carcasses weren't removed, but left to rot in various locations across the 300,000-acre park.
Employees upsetAt one point, the officials used a helicopter to shoot several aoudad sheep. And several burros were
killed even after the agency's Austin-based deputy director of operations, Scott Boruff, told them to stop, according to affidavits
obtained through an open records request.
The officials — deputy parks director Dan Sholly and West Texas regional director Mike Hill, of Fort Davis —
apparently neglected to communicate their shooting plans to park staff, who describe in affidavits how they were saddened
and disturbed by foul-smelling carcasses they discovered over the past year.
"Everywhere I go, the employees are talking about the burros being shot. The employees are very upset about it. They don't
like just shooting the animals and leaving them to lie," said wildlife biologist Antonio Manriquez, a unit manager for the
parks department. He said eradicating the burros by shooting them was "inhumane" and "against the mission statement of our
department."
Luis Armendariz, the park's manager at the time, has said he ordered an investigation to find out who was shooting the
burros.
"The burro carried the mother of the king of kings on their back," Armendariz was quoted as saying in The Big Bend Sentinel.
"We should respect them for that."
Robert Garcia, the parks officer who Armendariz asked to investigate the matter, has told the Big Bend paper that some
of the animals suffered, that foals were orphaned and some burros were shot in the belly or hip, without a kill shot.
Garcia retired earlier this month in protest of the burro issue, the Sentinel reported, while Armendariz, who had been
with the agency for 35 years, retired last month after refusing a forced transfer. TPWD officials say the transfer wasn't
related to the burros.
The two shooters, Sholly and Hill, maintain that the killings were about protecting the native habitat and never for sport.
Sholly said they tried to kill the burros quickly but couldn't guarantee there were none wounded. He called the shootings
an "extremely sad and distasteful thing to do." He said that when he was a boy he had a burro named Croppy.
"We were trying to do what needs to be done quietly, without attracting attention," Hill said.
Last week, the department's internal investigation cleared the two of animal cruelty allegations and said they had not
violated any state laws, although they failed to notify proper authorities, according to agency policy.
If the shooters had aimed their rifles at burros in Big Bend National Park, it would have been a different story. The animals
there are protected under the Wild and Free-Roaming Horses and Burros Act of 1971.
There's a reason these protections exist. Horses and burros aren't viewed the same way as feral pigs, no matter how many
times the parks agency mentions them in the same breath. We don't eat equine. And horses and burros are enduring symbols of
the American West and rural life.
Since the story broke, Richard Farinato, who runs Black Beauty Ranch, says his group has reached out to TPWD to offer help.
A California rescue outfit is planning to visit soon.
Boruff, the state parks operations director, said he's willing to work with the groups. He said the agency has declared
a moratorium on shooting the wild burros and is planning to seek public comment through its Web site and in statewide hearings.
All this communication and public involvement is a good thing, but it could have come a bit earlier — before state
officials started opening fire on wildlife in public lands without the permission of the public.
 American Herds is devoting the month of December to the American Wild Burro, a species in significant decline whose populations
under “federal protection” have continued to plummet to near Endangered Species status. While much of the
public’s attention has been centered around their love and passion for the preservation of the American wild horse,
our wild burros have often been forgotten and treated as little more than an after thought. Advocates would be wise
to realize that wild burros, their stories, their treatment, and their decimated habitats and herds potentially hold the key
to saving what’s left of our wild horses – nothing better illustrates the cumulative impact of what managed extinction
looks like under the auspices of federal protection than the American Wild Burro. For many that have had a
wild burro touch their heart, their life has been transformed by their magical presence and the passionate devotion that these
special beings have inspired has caused their advocates more heartbreak and tears than can be imagined as they have had to
bear witness to these precious and unique herds being systematically destroyed. In effort to honor those that have
been irrevocably lost, to increase awareness of what little herds still remain and to those few individuals who have chosen
the lonely path of trying to preserve and protect them, American Herds presents Decemburro as tribute - in rememburroance
and in love.
Wild burro from Johnnie Herd Management Area, NV captured in January 2007 and found on July 18,
2007 at BLMs Wisconsin Rehabilitation Facilities for struggling WH&Bs - downloaded
from BLM Internet Adoption Site www.blm.gov
71 wild burros killed Internal investigation clears TPWD officials of cruelty
By STERRY BUTCHER
PRESIDIO COUNTY - Two
Parks and Wildlife officials have been cleared of animal cruelty allegations in
the shooting deaths of 71 feral burros at Big Bend Ranch
State Park.
According to a Parks and Wildlife Internal Affairs report released
this week, Regional Park Superintendent Mike Hill, of Fort Davis,
and Deputy Director of Parks Dan Sholly killed the animals over a 12-month period beginning in October
2006.
“Dan Sholly and Mike Hill did not
violate the animal cruelty criminal statute or any other criminal statute regarding the shooting of burros at Big Bend Ranch
State Park,” the report states. “All burros were killed as quickly as possible, and not intentionally left to
linger, die slowly, or made to suffer in any way.”
The burros of Big Bend
Ranch State Park are wild and hardy, but they’re
a non-native species that compete for water and forage with native mule deer and pronghorn. They also reside in rugged and
remote habitat that’s desired for the eventual re-introduction of desert bighorn. Several hundred burros are thought
to live in and around the park’s 300,000 acres. Unlike the herd of Longhorn cattle that is managed by the park, the
burros disregard fences and move freely across both sides of the Rio Grande. Burros
can live to be 45 or older.
“For over a decade, the agency’s policy has been to remove
feral animals because they’re extremely destructive,” said Parks and Wildlife Deputy Director of Operations, Scott
Boruff. He’s the designated spokesman for the agency on the feral burro issue.
Past roundups of burros proved ineffective, he said, and shooting
them by qualified personnel is in accordance with a 1975 Sierra Club policy on feral burro management.
“Animals like hogs and burros and aoudads are hurtful to the
environment,” Boruff said. “We have a policy that when the opportunity arises, we should
try to remove those animals by means that are humane.”
Hill and Sholly were carrying out that
policy when the Big Bend Ranch burros, and six aoudad, were shot, he said.
No one ordered the men to begin shooting the burros, according to
Boruff. Both Hill and Sholly are certified by Parks and Wildlife in the
humane disposal of feral animals. They were frequently at Big Bend Ranch to help staff implement a new public use plan.
“As we sent more staff there to support the local staff, there
were opportunities that burros were seen and shot,” said Boruff. “It’s not something
that someone planned.”
Regardless of the agency’s long-standing policy, there are
aspects of the burro shootings that are unsettling. Burros are more appealing and likeable than feral hogs and more familiar
than the exotic aoudad sheep. While they are non-native, burros have been present in the Big Bend and
northern Chihuahua for centuries. The agency’s feral burro policy, while
it’s been on the books for years, is not widely known by the public. The revelation that burros – 71 of them –
were shot in the park and their carcasses left to decay is shocking to many.
A series of depositions was taken in the course of the internal investigation.
Again and again, the employees of Big Bend Ranch talk about their own dismay at the shootings.
“I feel bad about the burros being killed,” park employee
Raul Martinez told investigators. “I think they are beautiful. I think they are an attraction for the people
that visit the park….The person that shoots a burro in the park does not have a heart. I do not understand why someone
would shoot a burro in the park.”
Big Bend Ranch employee Samuel Marquez told investigators, “It
made me feel sorry that the burros had been shot. It made me sad. The burros were not hurting anything….There are other
ways of removing them from the property without shooting them.”
And from Antonio Manriquez: “Everywhere
I go, the employees are talking about the burros being shot. The employees are very upset about it. They don’t like
just shooting the animals and leaving them to lie. They say it is just not right, even though it is an animal. Everybody believes
they, whoever ‘they’ are, are trying to eradicate the burros by shooting them….I am a wildlife biologist.
I do not believe in wasting anything; shooting something and leave it lying. It is inhumane to do this. This also brings down
morale of the employees. You are working trying to do a good job for the department and then someone comes in and just shoots
something to kill it.”
Hill and Sholly, in their depositions,
state that the shooting was not recreational. Both men have marksmanship experience.
“We never deliberately went out to hunt the burros,”
Hill said in the report. “We started it because of the bighorn sheep plan for restocking at the park. We needed to get
the competitors out and burros are a competitor.
“We also saw the need to get the burros out before the new
public use plan goes into effect at the park and public use increases,” he said later in the report. “We were
trying to do what needs to be done quietly, without attracting attention.”
He acknowledged that it occasionally took more than one shot to kill
an animal, but asserted that they took care to dispatch wounded animals.
“I do not like it much that we have to shoot the burros,”
he went on. “There is no fun in it. It is slaughter….It is not the burros’ fault that they are here. It
is the people’s fault for not rounding them up.”
The quietness that Hill references is among the complaints Big Bend
Ranch former employees have expressed.
Luis Armendariz was the park manager until his retirement November
30. He learned of dead burros in the park in mid-summer and, because he did not at first know the shooters were Parks officials,
Armendariz ordered an investigation that led to the internal affairs investigation.
Hill states in the report that he’d told Armendariz and another
staffer about killing the burros; when he told them is not clear. More and better communication was in order, according to
the findings of the internal report.
“State Park personnel do have the authority to control exotic
and nuisance animals within Park property,” it states. Park managers are the personnel to implement and direct staff
in the control of feral and nuisance animals.
Notification of a coordinated effort should be made to local and
regional Parks and law enforcement, according to the report. No notification was made in the burro case, “although some
general discussions occurred between the Wildlife Division and State Parks.”
Some follow up memos were also not forwarded to the correct Parks
and Wildlife offices.
Armendariz claims that his investigation and displeasure over the
burro killings led his superiors to reassign him – after 35 years on the job – to a new position in Fort
Davis. Instead of taking the new job, he retired.
Robert Garcia is the peace officer Armendariz ordered to investigate
the dead animals. He retired on December 9 in protest of the burro issue.
“I knew they’d try to cover it up,” he snapped
when he learned that Hill and Sholly were exonerated. “It’s a cover up because initially
they didn’t tell the park manager what they were doing. Secondly, by eliminating [Armendariz] as my supervisor, they
eliminated my point of contact and my enforcement powers.”
He’s fuming mad. Despite the report’s findings, Garcia
said some animals suffered – that foals were orphaned, and that some burros seemed to have been shot in the belly or
hip without a kill shot.
“I get mad that these animals were killed inhumanely,”
he said. “Why didn’t they give them away? Why did they have to shoot them? And why keep it hush-hush? Being a
peace officer, I think I should be notified they’d be doing that.”
Boruff adamantly denies that any Big Bend
Ranch employees were reassigned because of the burro issue. Some staff members were resistant, he said, to changes necessary
to implement the new public use plan.
“My belief is that Sholly and Hill
did this in the course of other business out there consistent with the policy that had been outlined in the State Parks division
– and some staff out there didn’t like the policy,” he asserted. “It’s my belief that the individuals
that were asked to be relocated were because of management issues, not because of anything that has to do with the burros.”
“No effort was made to hide the information that we took the
opportunity to shoot the burros,” he said. “Did everyone hear about it? They may not have. Was there an effort
to cover up that we shot burros? Absolutely not.”
A reprieve exists, for the time being, for the burros of Big Bend
Ranch. Boruff ordered a moratorium on shooting the animals in October. It will stay in effect for
some time; Boruff announced that public input will be sought on the agency’s feral animal
policy both online and at public hearings, dates for which have not been set.
Some of the animals will be removed for adoption – at least
that’s the hope. The country’s largest burro rescue outfit, Peaceful Valley Donkey Rescue of Tehachapi, California,
was forwarded this paper’s first story on the burro extermination nearly 500 times by readers. Now they’re involved.
“We’ll meet with Mike Hill on January 14 to go over the
park,” said Mark Meyers, of Peaceful Valley.
“We capture and remove wild burros where they’re under the threat of being shot or losing habitat.”
Peaceful Valley
is a non-profit and will basically underwrite the rescue process, he said. It will take months to habituate the burros to
humans, bait them with alfalfa, pen them, and haul the animals to a site in Miles, Texas
to be gentled and eventually adopted out.
Meyers has heard of the extreme ruggedness of Big Bend Ranch’s
terrain, which has stymied the park’s one or two past attempts at round ups.
“It’s a massive undertaking,” he said, and volunteers
and contributions would be helpful. “We’ll have to raise private donations. It costs us about $750 for every burro
we take out of the wild; it’s expensive work. If by the end of 2008 I can 100 out of the park, that’s doing good. We would like to see this as a Texas project and for
Texans to help us with this.”
Boruff added that anyone else with a plan
or ideas for burro removal is encouraged to contact Parks and Wildlife.
On Tuesday, Armendariz, the former park manager, was working a field
of alfalfa with his tractor. He remains steadfast in his belief that the removal of feral burros in Big
Bend Ranch State Park was mishandled.
“What’s right is right and what’s wrong is wrong,”
he said. “There’s better ways of doing things. If they think it’s right what they
did, that’s their prerogative. I still say it’s wrong and I bet there are people who agree with me.”
The Presidio International
December 6, 2007
PRESIDIO COUNTY – A strategy to improve the habitat of
native animal species has led to the killing of wild burros at Big Bend Ranch State Park and sparked two investigations
on how the matter was handled.
At least 18 feral burros, and maybe more, were destroyed inside the park in
recent months.
"Over the last seven months, state Parks and Wildlife personnel have periodically killed feral
burros while conducting other business at the park," Parks and Wildlife Communications Director Lydia Saldaña acknowledged
on Wednesday, December 5. "Management actions have been utilized to control these populations. The methods include humanely
killing the animal with a firearm by a properly trained employee."
Saldaña's admission comes on the heels this
week of allegations made public by Luis Armendariz, the former park manager for Big Bend Ranch who retired November
30. As manager, he officed in Presidio and oversaw the overall operation of the Sauceda unit of Big Bend Ranch, the
Barton Warnock Environmental Education Center in Terlingua, the Fort Leaton State Historic Site, and Chinati Mountain
State Natural Area. He first heard of the burro deaths in July and instructed a Parks and Wildlife peace officer to
investigate.
"You do the investigation and take it where it needs to go," Armendariz said he told the peace officer.
"I thought it could be anybody. I thought it might be hunters coming in through Fresno Canyon, which is why I told
law enforcement to investigate. Once law enforcement takes care of it, it's off my hands."
The burros at Big Bend
Ranch State Park are wild in the sense that they are wary of people, they move, graze and breed at will, and they
are not handled, nor doctored. Like the aoudad sheep or feral hog, they are also not a native species, and the burros
compete with native desert bighorn, antelope and deer for the available water and forage. The settlement of the Big
Bend and northern Chihuahua was made possible, to a significant extent, by the sweat of the burro and its ability
to work and live in sometimes meager conditions. The population in Big Bend Ranch is descended from domesticated animals
that escaped or were let loose over the years. They've thrived on their own, though the number of burros living in
the park is not clear.
"They tend to stay near water," said Armendariz. "Some may be coming from Mexico; they
come and go."
The in-house investigation continued over several months and, according to those involved in that
process, what it revealed was disturbing. Armendariz is retired and feels free to speak about the burro issue; another
source aware of the case will remain anonymous.
Eighteen burros, some found as recently as October and November, were
discovered shot, according to this source.
"There are a whole lot more out there," the source said. "It was inhumane."
In
one instance, said the source, "a female was shot and the baby was still trying to nurse on her – and she was dead."
Early
in the course of the in-house investigation, the identities of the alleged shooters became known. Both are Parks and Wildlife
officials with ranks higher than Armendariz. The former parks manager said he'd not been notified that the burro eradication
was going to occur.
In November, investigators from the Parks and Wildlife's internal affairs office took over
the case.
"There were allegations made and an internal affairs investigation," Saldaña confirmed. "The report
will be out in the next couple days; I can't release it until it is final."
Feral equines on federal lands are
protected by the Wild and Free- Roaming Horses and Burros Act of 1971. It mandates that these animals shall be prohibited
from capture, branding, harassment or death. Their populations on federal lands are kept in check by a round-up and
adoption system. Old, sick or lame animals are to be "destroyed in the most humane manner possible," the law states.
No
such adoption system seems to be in place for feral animals on state lands.
Saldaña emphasized that the management
of burros, aoudad and feral hogs at the ecologically fragile Big Bend Ranch is necessary for native species to flourish.
"Our
overriding concern is the negative impact on native plants and animals and water supplies, especially in West Texas,"
she said. "The removal of these depredating animals is a high priority."
Hunting is big business in Texas and is
especially important to the perennially under-funded park system. Nearly 80,000 tickets were bought for chances at
the agency's Big Time Texas Hunt, the grand prize of which includes a desert bighorn hunt. The raffle sales brought
in $798,150 in gross revenue to support wildlife research, habitat management and public hunting, according to Parks and
Wildlife. Very few desert bighorn hunts are permitted each year; raffles or auctions for a desert bighorn permit alone
bring tens of thousands of dollars.
A restoration of desert bighorn to the park is in Big Bend Ranch's future.
"It's a long-term goal," said Saldaña. "And part of the restoration plan is the removal and continued population
control of feral and exotic animals that include burros, aoudad and feral hogs."
Armendariz is now gone from the
office and moved from the state- owned house his family occupied. A Presidio native and lifetime resident, Armendariz
spent 35 years and six months with Parks and Wildlife. His exit from the job and the burro investigations are not coincidental,
he claims. The former park manager alleges that the state director of parks, Walt Dabney, in a conference call that included
Parks and Wildlife legal counsel and a human resource director, informed Armendariz that he'd been re-assigned as the
assistant to the regional director in Fort Davis. The reassignment came in November, after the internal affairs investigation
had begun.
"He let me know on a Thursday and wanted me to report on Monday," said Armendariz. "It was to keep
me away from the area."
Rather than start the job 90 miles away in Fort Davis, Armendariz put in for three weeks
of vacation and retired. The killing of the burros, and the way he believes it was handled, nags at him.
"The shooting
bothers me," he said. "The burro carried the mother of the king of kings on their back. We should respect them for that."
Burro ambassador visits patients
Just a few days after he was adopted, "Pockets" the burro was a hit at last year's Lake Isabella Christmas Parade.
A few months later, he made a splash at the annual Whiskey Flats Parade in Kernville.
"Pockets loves to see the horse trailer stop in front of his stall," says adopted "mom," Nadia Lane. "He knows that he's
going to get to go somewhere fun, and he jumps right in!"
That outgoing personality gave an idea to Kathy Rall, who has helped the Lanes with their BLM mustangs and burros
for the past eight years. Why not "invite" him to visit the residents nursing center where Kathy's mom lived? 
Above: Kathy Rall (left) introduces Pockets to her mother, Peggy, as the Center's activities assistant Sam Mathieu (in
overalls and hat) scratches Pockets under the chin. "This just feels so good for all of us old guys!" Peggy said.
Below: Pockets "smiles" for the camera. He dressed up for the occasion with a red bandana -- and Sam wore overalls and
a straw hat to complement his look:
Kathy recently became an official BLM horse and burro volunteer (she's wearing her BLM horse and burro program volunteer
cap in these photos). Kathy and Sam Mathieu coordinated this first 'Donkey Day' at the Kern Valley Health District's Skilled
Nursing Center in Mt. Mesa.
"Pockets couldn't wait for the door to open so that he could stroll in and meet his admirers," says Nadia. "It was really
neat to see the faces of these people light up when they saw him!"
"Pockets is glad to share his fuzzy forehead with all who want to scratch on it," says Nadia:  When Pockets gets a little fidgety inside the center, Kathy leads him outside. In a matter of minutes, everyone
follows him out onto the lawn for more visiting time. Stella Carlson was petting Pockets when he decided to "taste" Stella's
finger. Stella said, "That's just love nibbles." 
Joe Lane (Pocket's adoptive "dad") was making sure that Pockets got a chance to visit some of the other residents. 
Pockets saying hello to another resident at the center.

Nadia shares a little more of Pockets' history:
Since we adopted him last November, Pockets has been back to the Ridgecrest corrals for their last three adoptions,
visiting with lots of his friends who remember him. Pockets was actually born in the corrals at Ridgecrest on August
6, 2006. His mom did not "connect" with him, so one of the volunteers took little Pockets home in the back seat of her
truck and raised him on her couch.
When he was four months old, we adopted him - which was probably the most exciting bidding war in history, fetching
the largest bid ever of $1,050!!
Pockets also took part in the Desert Empire Event, sponsored by the California BLM horse and burro
volunteers last April at the Ridgecrest Fairgrounds. He was dressed up as a packer in training, sporting a pack saddle,
canteen, red bandana and a little hat to keep the sun out of his face.
We are having soooo much fun with him, even if he does break a few things here and there!
- Nadia Lane, 8/07
They Also Served - So long, Mojave burros By Deanne Stillman, Courtesy of LA Weekly,Jan. 31, 2006 issue
There’s a statue of Brighty the burro in the Grand Canyon
Lodge. Brighty lived at the Grand Canyon from 1892 to 1922, along with countless other burros whose ancestors had come with
the Spanish and carried the ensuing parade up mountains, across deserts, into mines and history. Named after the Bright Angel
Creek in the canyon, Brighty originally belonged to a gold prospector. When the prospector was killed, Brighty was adopted
by the park service. He helped build the canyon’s first suspension bridge across the Colorado River and carried Teddy
Roosevelt’s packs on a hunt for mountain lions. He was an icon of the West when he died, and it would seem only fitting
that the government honor his life by making sure that others of his kind could flourish in their desert home.
Passage of the federal Wild Free-Roaming Horses and Burros Act
in 1971 did exactly that — but in spirit only. It gave authority for mustangs and burros to the Bureau of Land Management,
which meant that other agencies such as the National Park Service could make their own policy toward these animals if they
lived on NPS land. To the park service, burros were not free-roaming but non-native, which meant that they had to go. In 1979,
the extirpation began — with Brighty’s descendants. Because getting them out of the Grand Canyon would be difficult,
all 577 of them were to be shot. The late writer and animal defender Cleveland Amory intervened, along with his organization,
the Fund for Animals, putting together a daring and complicated rescue in which the burros were airlifted from the canyon
and taken to his Black Beauty Ranch in Texas, which he founded for this occasion.
That was the beginning of the end for the burro in national parks
and preserves, which the park service oversees. Since then, NPS has continued its policy of “direct reduction,”
and thousands of burros have either been shot by contract hunters or harried to their doom or into overcrowded government
adoption pipelines in cruel airborne roundups. From 1987 to 1994, the park service shot 400 burros in Death Valley alone —
just one of various burro sites all over the desert West. When Death Valley went from monument to park status in ’94,
the park service amped up its plans to remove burros — and Death Valley’s remaining wild horses.
But another friend of the burro stepped up, just in time. This
was Diana Chontos. In 1990, the longtime rescuer of burros had taken six of them and made a two-year cross-country wilderness
trek through California to draw attention to their plight. When she heard what was about to happen to the Death Valley burros
in ’94, she approached NPS with a plan. After lengthy and difficult talks, she and NPS came to an agreement: The agency
would not shoot burros if her organization, Wild Burro Rescue in Olancha, California, just to the west of Death Valley, would
organize, pay for and remove the burros itself.
And that’s what she’s been doing ever since. “These
annual live captures are conducted in hazardous conditions in rugged and remote mountain wilderness,” she says. She
almost died of renal failure at a recent capture because she just couldn’t get enough water over a six-day period. There
were only two people aiding in the capture — Chontos and her late partner, Tom Allewelt, who trimmed the hooves of the
rescued burros and horses and helped to gentle them at their sanctuary in the Owens Valley.
There are still a few burros in Death Valley and soon, perhaps
sometime this year, another capture will be planned — if Chontos can raise the funds and head off a park-service hunt.
In 2006, the last of the Mojave Preserve burros may be taken
off the land forever. Then the burros will be gone, visible only as statues at parks, or ancient greeters of tourists in ghost
towns. For the park service that runs the Mojave National Preserve has now turned its sights on the last remaining burros
in that part of the desert, including the Clark Mountain herds, whose home turf is the highest peak in the Mojave Desert at
7,929 feet. This is on the north side of the preserve, and sometimes, if you’re driving east on I-15, you can see them
hanging out at Excelsior Mine Road. As with wild horses, there’s a dispute about exactly how many burros are left. Locals
say maybe 30; NPS says 200 to 300.
Last fall, another herd was taken off the preserve , and — according to the desert grapevine — two burros may have been shot in the process. There are photos of
one burro with a bullet to the head circulating in the ether. The rumor is that he died a very slow and painful death as the
contractors stood by. Not surprising if true; I have heard and seen evidence of a staggering amount of tax-subsidized government
abuse before, during and after roundups of wild horses and burros. Two years ago in Nevada, six mustangs, presumably rounded
up to keep them from dying of thirst during a drought, died of thirst in a BLM corral after a worker forgot to turn on a spigot
and then left for several days; a couple of months ago in Colorado, six more died after eating a poison weed in a corral where
they should not have had access to toxic plants; and since October 2005, 46 wild horses at the BLM corral in Susanville, California,
have died of strangles, an upper-respiratory infection that can kick in after a horse is stressed — or after, for instance,
being run too hard during a helicopter roundup.
“The preserve has designated the elimination of the burro
from within its borders as a top resource-management priority,” NPS announced a couple of years ago. Of course, there’s
always a reason. In this case, the burro, like the wild horse, is seen as an animal that destroys habitat — habitat
that should only be destroyed by cattle — but of course that’s not how NPS frames it. As this organization sees
it, the burro is an enemy of the endangered desert tortoise. But according to the late Barry Breslow, who was an advocate
for the Eastern Mojave and Death Valley burros, the animals “pose no threat to the tortoise. There is no documented
sighting of a tortoise that has been stepped on by a burro. Burros do not eat tortoises. Burros typically roam in the high
country, while the tortoise is in the low flats.” Still, since the tortoise is a California native, it takes priority
in the what-to-save contest.
I have no argument against protecting the desert tortoise —
to me, it’s a living totem and, with the Desert Protection Act of 1994, it was given a slim chance of surviving decades
of predation and unchecked development. But the answer is: Let’s manage the burro, not wipe it out. If government strives
for diversity in human population centers, then why not in parks? There’s plenty of room for burros, tortoises and even
one or two cows. Moreover, the non-native argument is disingenuous, given that NPS violates this rule when it feels like it.
On the Cape Cod National Seashore, for instance, it releases non-native pheasants for sport shooting.
“They are destroying our Western heritage,” says
Jennifer Foster, a 23-year resident of Hesperia, near the preserve. Jennifer is one of a small group of high-desert locals
who are planning a legal action to stop this impending and most final act. “The Clark Mountain burros are special,”
she says. “They’re the last of their kind.” Any sort of lawsuit, however, could take months, if not years,
and meanwhile, burro sanctuaries around the region are counting on new arrivals in 2006 as the NPS gets ready to wipe Brighty’s
descendants off the map.
As Diana Chontos says, burros have much to tell us. In 2000,
she rescued a burro from Death Valley and called him Yaqui. “He was respected by all of the younger jacks — the
male burros — and they didn’t chase him from food or water. He loved to be brushed and hugged. But one day he
began to grow weak and could no longer get up from his naps without being helped, and toward the end we rigged a blanket for
shade and called a ‘vet’ to ease his passing. One by one, all 32 jacks came by and touched him some place on his
body, then went back to their hay. Shortly after the last jack paid his respects, Yaqui took a deep breath and died.”
He was 50 years old, the vet said, the oldest equine he had ever seen. Had he helped a miner named Pegleg Pete find water?
Maybe he had once led a lost pilgrim back to the trail. Or maybe he just lived in the Mojave Desert — for a long time,
until he had to go.
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