My Apologia....Continued

"Rusty! What in God's name are you doing?" my mother yelled as she walked out of the front door. I pleaded, "Can I keep it?" My baffled mother responded, "Rusty, the rabbit is dead; you can not keep it." I then defensively replied, "It won't eat much and I will take it for a drag everyday."

Obviously, I did not grasp the concept of decomposition at that time. I could not understand why such a beautiful animal would not stay as beautiful after it had died. As you read on, you will discover I have since learned my lesson about decomposition.

After my mother convinced me that we must give the rabbit a proper burial, it was ceremoniously placed to rest in peace next to a willow tree in our back yard. Soon after the funeral I had to be enlightened on the requirements for burial, when my mother caught me burying everything I could find, whether it was dead or alive. That rabbit was my first recollection of loving "life". From then on I have been enamored with the wild creatures that share the planet and hold a curious fascination in observing how we humans co-exist with them.

During the third grade, another life altering situation occurred. While enjoying outdoor recess one spring afternoon, I was searching the school property for snakes. My grammar school sat at the base of a small mountain called Snake Hill. Every spring, the stream that meandered between Snake Hill and my school, teemed with frogs. The immense frog population made it a prime feeding ground for snakes. That particular afternoon it was unseasonably chilly and I did not find any snakes. But in a marshy outcrop from the stream, I found a beautiful leopard frog. As I approached the frog I noticed it was in the process of laying eggs. As she floated within a submerged tree branch she laid over 5,000 tiny black eggs which loosely attached to the twigs of the submerged branch.

As the frog continued to lays eggs, two of my classmates approached from behind and asked, .What are you looking at?. "A leopard frog laying eggs." I responded.

"Where?"

"There", I said while pointing her out as she floated just below the surface of the water.

"Catch her." one classmate said.

While still watching the frog I replied. "It is not a good idea to pick up frogs if it is not necessary. Handling them removes a coating of slime on their skin that helps protect against virus and disease. When released back into the wild after being handled, this disturbed barrier is "disarmed" and they can easily get sick and die."

"Well can the slime protect them from this?" one classmate yells. I turned my head toward them, confused by what he said, and saw them both hurling softball-sized rocks at the frog. Before I could respond, both rocks splashed into the water, one of them on top of the frog. Shocked by what had just happened, I quickly jumped into the water and removed the rock off of the frog. She was dead; her flattened body floating with her string of eggs still attached to her. As the two classmates were uncontrollably laughing, I yelled, "You killed her, you stupid %@$$@%@s." Then I picked up one of the rocks and prepared to throw it at them. One classmate thought I was bluffing until I hit him in the chest with the rock. As he fell down with the wind knocked out of him, his buddy made a run for it but I was able to "peg" him in the back with the same rock. Suddenly, several teachers grabbed me as if they were the Secret Service and I had just assaulted the President of the United States.

The principal threatened me with suspension and promised to inform my mother of the violent outburst (With the zero-tolerance in schools today, I probably would have been charged with attempted murder). Although I had never been suspended in the past, I hated school and entertained the possibility of not being able to attend class with joy. Telling my mother was not much of a threat either; I felt my mother would understand my actions once she was told why I did it.

I was not suspended for my rock throwing. But the Principal did call my home, and informed my mother about her son's behavior. That evening my mother talked to me and I gave her my side of the story. She responded by saying, "I understand why you became so upset with your classmates, but I do not agree with your actions."

"Well, what was I supposed to do, they killed her!" I sternly replied.

"Why do you love animals?" she asked while she started to prepare dinner.

"I don't know, I just do."

"How do you know you love animals?" she added.

I quickly responded, "Because the more I learn about them, the more I like being around them...And the more I am around them, the more I want to learn about them." Then my mother said, "Some people have never learned about animals, and because they do not know anything about them, they do not care about them. Perhaps, instead of throwing rocks at the children, you could have shown them how great frogs are, and they would understand them."

With that advice I returned to school the following day armed with a field guide and not a rock. By the time recess came, I had most of the class prepared for their first wildlife expedition. That day my classmates and I spotted more than three different species of frog and counted over thirty frogs within a half-hour. Two weeks later, I amazed both of the "reformed frog "squashers, when I brought them back to the scene of the crime and showed them the dead frog's eggs as they began to hatch.

I have not kept in touch with those two classmates but I am sure they remained "reformed frogs squashers." When I thought about it later, I realized it was not only them killing the frog that bothered me, it was the fact that the children who did it were both normal everyday kids with great acceptance among their peers. One would expect such actions from the "troubled classmates" but from normal everyday children? Unfortunately, ignorance has no prejudice, and will afflict anyone who allows it to exist within them.

Throughout my school years I not only tried to learn all I could about the natural world, but I felt great accomplishment when I transferred the wonders of nature to people not yet connected to it. This passion developed throughout my school years and became a vital support when school became difficult.

As I previously mentioned, I hated school. This strong negative emotion towards standard academia was well earned; I have Dyslexia and Aphasia. Both of these "disabilities" affect one's ability to read and remember information. I was not diagnosed until my last years of high school. Before then, teachers were generally unaware of learning disabilities, so I was more generically labeled as "lazy, not applying myself, and not trying hard enough." While in grammar school, my parents noticed I was having learning problems, but when they approached my teachers about it many stated, "Oh Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, don't worry about Rusty, he is a good kid.. And my parents replied over and over again, "Yes, we know he is a good kid, but he can't read, write, or spell."

Because I never lit fires on school property or flushed M-80.s down their toilets, I was pushed through barely passing by the skin of my teeth. I received little extra help or support from my school system, with the exception of several very caring and dedicated teachers with whom I have remained friends to this day. I will admit I sometimes was my own worst enemy. I did not want to admit I had a "problem" and would rather not hand in an assignment at all if I knew all the answers were wrong.

It was my mother who tirelessly worked with me to help me get through school. Sometimes, with me wearing headphones to block out any "distractions", we would read through my homework assignments by taking turns one sentence at time so I would not become too tired and frustrated. She brought me books on any subject I even showed a remote interest in and tried to get me to read, read, read. In time, read I did if it was about nature. When I would get frustrated with myself, she would tell me, "You are not stupid, you just have to find another way to learn."

Then on June 25, 1989, after countless opinions, tutors and meetings with teachers, student counselors, doctors, allergists, and optometrists my parents consulted with, a miracle happened; I graduated high school. I was so tired from celebrating my accomplishment the night before, I ended up on the front page of our city newspaper, in my cap and gown with my chin on my fist; sleeping. The caption below the photo read, Graduate Rusty Johnson in his thinking pose. I can just imagine what some of my teachers were thinking too! Graduating was a high point of my life after 12 years of "confinement" I was now free. I do not think it was a high point for the school system. They did not know I graduated with a second grade reading level and I was not about to tell them. Looking back, maybe they did know.

It was through these difficult times I would find myself spending more time around animals and the outdoors. Even while attending classes, I was always known to have a snake nearby or a ferret sleeping in my book bag. It was a comfortable outlet and confidence builder, something I knew well.

During my last year of high school, I met a naturalist who lectured with his animals at schools. While working with him I became licensed in falconry (training hawks, falcons and eagles). While practicing falconry, I gradually obtained a number of wild animals and began giving lectures at schools, museums and universities.

Through the years my lecture series snowballed into a full-time business, with me conducting as many as 250 lectures per year. It became the perfect occupation. I spend every day surrounded by wild animals, while opening the eyes of thousands of people to creatures many would never otherwise see. I am my own boss, doing what I love, and I get paid for it!

As for my "job title" I consider myself more of a conservationist than an environmentalist. Much of the environmentalist movement revolves around the notion that humans are"blight" on the earth, where the conservationist movement believes man can co-exist with nature.

Although I do agree with the former on many points, I must side with the latter. But foremost, exceeding any "job title", I am a humanitarian struggling to preserve mankind's quality of life. This lifestyle also has provided many exciting opportunities. I have had the pleasure of appearing with my animals on the Today Show, Late Night with David Letterman, Live with Regis and Kathy Lee, and Late Nite with Conan O'Brien. I have trained a falcon for magician David Copperfield and on numerous occasions I have had the honor of working alongside Jim Fowler of Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom. He is a man who has personally enlightened my view of the natural world as well as entertained my entire family for generations via television every Sunday evening. Of course I will never forget Johnny Carson's perfect impression of Jim's "boss" Marlin Perkins. "While Jim wrestles the two-horned rhino in heat, I will make martinis for the tribe's women."

Through the years I have lived with a number of animals, hawks, eagles, owls, falcons, condors, vultures, snakes (cobras, vipers, pythons, some weighing over 200 lbs), and alligators, to name a few. I have also had the opportunity to interact on a one on one basis with other animals including elephants, tigers, lions, bears, and chimpanzees. But none of the wild animals I have ever possessed or worked with, was ever considered a .pet.. They are ambassadors for their wild cousins. They are the "voice" of their species and form a connection between their kind and society. This connection can only be achieved by a human seeing an animal in the flesh and looking into each other's eyes. That animal becomes real; its individual personality shows through and captures the observer's soul. A photograph or documentary can not achieve this.

While conducting 3,000 lectures over the past 18 years, hundreds of audience members have asked, "Why don't you write a book?" Never wanting to respond with the truth, "I am lucky if I can read, much less write." I would simply reply, "In due time."

When I felt I was ready to write a book I began the writing process. While developing my limited writing skills, I would begin writing a book then throw it out, not because of the "technical difficulties" in writing, but because the books simply were not original. They were nothing different than what overwhelms any bookstore shelf. I did not want to write a book for the sake of writing a book.

The idea that created The Twilight of the Wild came to me several years ago while I was sitting on a cliff watching a crow feed her young. The crow landed on her stick nest which held her three chicks. In her mouth was an unidentifiable piece of meat which the chicks aggressively wrestled for until it was devoured. Then the mother crow flew back into the forest.

Twenty minutes later she returned to the nest with a dead snake swinging from her beak. As she landed on the nest, all three of her chicks pinched their beaks around the snake and began to brawl over it. The smallest of the three chicks was pushed aside while the two larger siblings each swallowed an end of the dead snake. After a violent tug of war, the dead snake snapped in half and they both swallowed their ends.

By the time the snake was ingested, their mother had already left to search for more food. Several minutes had passed when I saw the mother crow returning to the nest with something large in her beak. The unrecognizable prey seemed to violently flutter in the crow's mouth, yet the crow seemed to have no difficulty flying with it. When she landed on the nest I was able to see what the prey was; it was a Burger King bag.

The three baby crows squawked for food while their mother stuck her head into the bag, pulled out an empty hamburger wrapper and threw it off the side of the nest. She then would repeatedly stick her head back into the Burger King bag, grab a beak full of french fries and feed her chicks one by one. When the fries were finished, the mother crow pushed the bag off the edge of the nest. As the paper bag lightly fell between the branches below, the mother crow flew back into the green forest. This mother crow was either heavily connected in the food industry or she discovered the Burger King bag on the side of the road, thrown out by a passing motorist. Crows in general, are extremely intelligent and opportunistic feeders, taking advantage of almost any possible food source. Yet, the thought of a crow associating a paper Burger King bag as a possible source of food, made me realize that we are living in The Twilight of the Wild.

As we begin the 21st century, we enter a time where the modern world is expanding at its greatest rate ever. As our human demands expand, so do our "habitat" demands. Consequently, we are losing our wild lands day after day, as well as our precious wildlife. For the past 200 million years, the average rate of extinction was roughly 90 species per century. Currently we meet that number every two weeks.

We must ask ourselves, what kind of life do we want for our children and grandchildren? Quality or quantity...a garden or a junkyard.

Do we want to create a world full of concrete and steel, people crammed next to one another, noise deafening our living space while polluted air continuously attacks our lungs with every breath and our polluted waters poison our children? Or, with consideration and effort, would you rather create a world where nature and man coexist in a symbiotic relationship, a balance benefiting both, resulting in the best of both worlds. If the world were footwear, would you prefer to walk on Birkenstock sandals or flip-flops?

If this trend continues, as it appears it will, it means that today is the best it is ever going to be. My daughter's generation will have a poorer quality of life than my wife and I have had and our future grandchildren's quality of life will be even poorer. In addition, as third-world cultures and governments strive to get their piece of the action, the flames of conflict are fueled. Like over crowded animals, we battle for ownership, territory, and resources. Because human behavior is so similar to "animal" behavior and plays such an overwhelming role in our quality of life, I include the human animal in this book many times over. Because of my fascination with this reality, I decided to study and experience The Twilight of the Wild for myself and pass the adventure on to others. That is what this book is about. This is not a scientific evaluation of our future or a manifesto of an impending doom. Above all, this books aims to entertain, and if it opens minds or encourages people to appreciate life, all the better. And in response to all those who inquired, "Why don't you write a book?" The time is due... Welcome to The Twilight of the Wild.