Ancient Teamwork

I just stumbled upon a CNN article entitled “Mammoth traps containing remains of 14 of the giant creatures discovered in Mexico”. It went on to say that anthropologists found a man-made trench in Tultepec, Mexico that was 5½ feet deep and 82 feet long. In it were mammoth bones, one even arranged symbolically, as well as the remains of camels and a horse. This trap is said to be 15,000 years old.

Creating something like that took a lot of planning and digging. It required vision. It required trust. It took imagination and teamwork and delayed gratification.

And then once the thing was built, they had to strategize and work together in the hunt. They had to drive these animals toward the trap, most likely with torches. Everyone would have had to have been on the same page.

Afterward, there was a lot of meat to share out. The article states that the tongue of a mammoth alone could weigh more than 26 pounds. And they also used the bones for tools. People would have had to communicate and agree to various work roles and outcomes.

And yet, when we think of “cavemen”, we still tend to imagine them grunting, and living nasty, dirty, brutish lives. Lest we forget, if it weren’t for their survival skills, none of us would be here today. And anthropologists have found art, musical instruments, tools, and ritual burials that attest to their sophistication as well.

These people did more than just grunt. Now there’s a trench in Mexico to prove it.

Photo by HO_INAH_AFP via Getty Images
Photo by HO_INAH_AFP via Getty Images

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Killer Instinct

I have a confession to make. I’m a killer. And I don’t feel the least bit of shame. I’ll do it again, I guarantee you. If a cockroach or a brown recluse spider stupidly breeches my line of chemical defense and enters my house, there to potentially bite me and rot my flesh or ruin my food or spread disease, that sucker is going down.

Upon first sighting, my mind goes all primal. The only thought I have is, “Kill it, kill it, kill it!” I used to then scream for my boyfriend, but the last two I’ve had have been absolutely worthless in this bloodthirsty realm, so now I just try to get above my panic and then go into heartless hunter mode until the deed is done.

And woe be unto the flea who makes the mistake of trying to feed off one of my dogs. There’s nothing more satisfying than hearing a flea’s little body snap between my finger nails. Take that, you blood sucker!

I don’t get people like my boyfriend who find it morally wrong to kill cockroaches. I think nature trumps morality every single time. If you encountered a hungry mountain lion in the wild, do you think he’d feel the least bit guilty about feasting upon your entrails? Most assuredly not. And then the vultures would come and nibble on the less desirable bits, and the worms would devour what’s left.

Rats will even eat their own, leaving hantavirus in their wake, so I have no problem with deadly rat traps. I also don’t mind those who humanely trap and relocate higher mammals, even though many of them spread disease, too. This is partly because I know deep down that this territory I inhabit used to be theirs, and partly because I know if I were locked in mortal combat with a raccoon, I’d most likely lose.

I’m not all bad, though. I have been known to pull my car over on the side of the road to let a lizard hop off my windshield, and I’ve helped more than one turtle cross a highway. I’ll put out birdseed in the winter, and I get heartily annoyed with people who let their cats outside, thus depleting the songbird population. I also let ladybugs fly away home.

And I think people who abuse animals should be locked away forever, in conditions identical to the ones they imposed upon their innocent victims.

So where is the line that I draw? If you will intentionally kill me or make me sick, then you are fair game. I’ll kill you every day of the week and twice on Sunday. If, on the other hand, you are simply trying to live your furry or scaly or slithery little life, and we’ve crossed paths merely by chance, I’ll do my best to help you on your way.

So yes, I’ll kill, and feel no remorse. I think those who refuse to do so would be much better served feeling guilty about doing the things that animals do not do themselves, such as polluting or embezzling or pedophilia.

Perspective.

killer