Early on the morning of
In the middle of the previous evening she had come out of her house to collect firewood from her stack. It was very cold, dry and dark. She was close by her front door when she heard a strange repetitive squeaking and then out of the gloom came a young otter cub.
It walked right to her feet and stood there, still squeaking, looking up at her and certainly in need of some help. Where it had come from was a bit of a mystery; Kim lives at the top of a large hill around half a mile from the nearest natural water.
Kim was of course a little taken aback at this and whilst thinking about how to help the poor youngster she retreated back to her house; she may have been thinking of how to capture the cub but it seemed to read her mind and followed her through her front door and into her house and saved her the effort!
Shortly afterwards the young animal was tucked up for the night in a comfortable dog crate with water, some rainbow trout and two pigeon breasts which, although not typical otter food, seemed to go down very well.
The following morning Kim rang us and we went over to see how we could help. The cub was a fighting fit 8 or 9 week old with no obvious illness or injury, we didn’t manage to sex it (after the third bite on my arm I thought it probably wasn’t that important anyway).
We had a chat with Michael, Kim’s neighbour, who knew that otters had been seen recently playing under a nearby bridge in an isolated location and we decided to try and reunite the cub with its mum there. Mandy and I did this once before and our feeling was that because otter mothers are so devoted she was unlikely to leave the area without searching for her offspring. If we acted quickly enough she was still likely to be hanging around.
We all travelled down to the bridge in question and searched for signs of mum, but if she was there, she wasn’t going to make it easy for us to find her. The cub wasn’t helping much either, it was in a small cat box we had brought with us sleeping off its large breakfast under a very colourful old towel.
The box cannot be opened from the inside by the cub but it can be opened from the outside by mum if she pulls it towards herself which is what most otters do. She was also the only otter likely to be in the near vicinity as our British Otters are territorial animals. So with that in mind we decided to leave the cub in the box near to the riverside and return to it at dusk.
Several hours later three of us returned to the site and from a distance the box looked exactly as we had left it; there were no signs of mum.
I approached the box and as I neared it I could see the towel inside, about the size of the cub and the right shape and I thought that the cub was still in there. But as I got even closer I could see that the red door had been pulled open and that there were large muddy paw prints both on and inside the box. Just to be sure I picked up the box and it was far too light to contain the cub. The cub was clean as a whistle when we put it in wrapped in the towel so the mud had come from something else. We are very confident that mum had returned and collected her baby. A very satisfying result and well worth the efforts of all those involved.
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