Oscar is not a grouch

In fact I have it from a somewhat respectable source that Oscar is, in fact, a bit of a ham. To find out for yourself visit the Western North Carolina Nature Center’s otter exhibit at 75 Gashes Creek Road in Asheville and meet Oscar in person or otterson.

Oscar is replacing the recently deceased Otis as Olive’s new companion and confidant — is it just me or does this seem like a year for “Os”? Anyway, unlike Otis who arrived at the WNC Nature Center from the Tennessee Aquarium in Chattanooga, Tenn., as a senior otter-citizen (around 18 yrs. old) in the spring of 2007, Oscar at six months is still wet behind the ears.

Otis succumbed during some dental work on one of his last remaining teeth. But at 18 he was twice the age most otters see in the wild. And according to staffers at the nature center Otis’ last respite with Olive must have rekindled some of those wild genes as he and his maiden were observed in a state of otter bliss. And believe it or not the permanent reminder of that temporary feeling could still manifest.

Otters exhibit delayed implantation, which means the fertilized egg, generally, is not deposited in the uterus for months. Then there is a two-month gestation period so it can be up to a year between copulation and birth. Since otters mate shortly after giving birth, it is thought that the primary purpose of delayed implantation is to give the female adequate time to raise her current brood and then select a good den site for the next litter of two to six pups, the next spring.

However, if the tryst with Otis wasn’t productive, Olive, who at 4 or 5 years old is in her prime, will have to wait for her new beau, Oscar, to mature. Otters reach sexual maturity around 2 or 3 years.

Oscar comes to the nature center from what must be close to otter-heaven, Minnesota — the land of 1,000 lakes. Because, even though dubbed “river” otter, Lutra canadensis, is equally at home on lakes, ponds, marshes and bays. In some of its west coast estuarine habitats, L. canadensis is sometimes confused with its sea-going cousin, the sea otter, Enhydra lutris.

Oscar never got to experience even one of those 1,000 lakes. He was born in captivity and hand-raised. Maybe that’s why he seems as interested in checking out the bipeds at the nature center as they are at gawking at him.

Oscar and his ilk, L. canadensis, are sleek, muscular creatures, highly adapted for their terrestrial/aquatic lifestyle. The otter may reach 3 to 4 feet in length with its long tapered tail making up half that total length. The tail is used for propulsion and steering. It has short legs with webbed feet and clawed toes. Its ears and nose close automatically when it submerges and it has a clear nictitating membrane that closes over its eyes so it can see underwater. The otter can stay underwater for 5 minutes or more, dive to a depth of 50 feet and travel for more than a quarter of a mile. And while it looks somewhat awkward it can travel at 15 mph over land and it often dens some distance from water.

Due to habitat destruction, hunting and trapping, otter numbers have dwindled across the U.S. Reintroduction efforts like those in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in the mid-1990s and more recently along the French Broad and Catawba rivers have had promising results. All these resilient animals need is a chance. They know how to survive — their ancestors date back to the Pleistocene.

If you want to welcome Oscar to the WNC Nature Center you can join the festivities on Nov. 8. Friends of the Nature Center can enjoy a members-only reception at 9 a.m. and the general public is invited at 10 a.m.

Don Hendershot can be reached at ddihen1@bellsouth.net