Porcupines are not the fastest moving critters in the universe, but then who needs to be when you’ve got all that armament?  As Teddy shows, they can even be cute, and certainly vocal when someone tries to remove lunch.

For a long time I never really liked porcupines, probably because we had to pull porcupine quills out of our pit bull seven times when I was a kid.  Of course, it wasn’t really the fault of the porcupine – or porcupines, since I’m guessing the dog did manage to find more than one over the course of several years.  We were never sure why the dog developed such an obsession with porcupines, but he certainly never did learn that the porcupine always wins.  We did learn that pit bull terriers are decidedly stubborn and carry a grudge to extremes.

When I worked out of Lake Ranger Station in Yellowstone National Park, there was a porcupine living near Fishing Bridge who discovered that the easiest way across the river was via the Fishing Bridge – usually right down the middle of the bridge.  Since porcupines are usually nocturnal and not noted for setting any land speed records, these nighttime excursions could tend to be hazardous to his health.  Neither car headlights nor honking horns would make him move aside – he’d just stop and rattle his quills.  Getting out of the patrol car and trying to herd him out of the way wasn’t any more successful, he just added vocal mutterings to the quill rattling.  So, more than once, I escorted the slow-moving obstruction across the bridge, red lights flashing, bewildered late night tourists trying to figure out what on earth was in front of the patrol car that required protection. 

One night at Lake, we received a panic call from a pair of campers that there was a bear in their tent.  Rangers gathered up the bear trap and headed to the campground.  The supposedly occupied tent was surrounded cautiously and rangers listened for any sounds of a bear rooting through camping equipment for food.  Mostly silence, except for the growing volume of noise from rudely awakened campers who were coming to see what was going on.  Finally, one ranger carefully approached the tent and came back to report all he could hear from within the tent was a strange gnawing noise.  “Oh, hell,” the area ranger muttered, putting his shotgun back in the patrol car and digging out a shovel.  He marched into the tent, there was a lot of shuffling and scuffling, and pretty soon out marched one very indignant porcupine, propelled at the end of a shovel.  Porcupines love salt, and salty sweat in leather straps makes a marvelous midnight feast.