The Southern Pride is gone. 

Just two years ago, we watched this magnificent pride of lions that ruled the Sabi Sands region of Kruger National Park for decades.  At that time, it numbered over a dozen lionesses and one powerful male. We spent hours watching five cubs, playing, eating, tumbling over their mothers, aunts and cousins.  There was even a bachelor group of three male lions on the periphery that clung together, sometimes hunting together, other times at odds, but always lost, not sure of where they belonged. As children of the pride, they would have to move on, but they weren’t quite ready.  

The southern pride was so renown that a lodge was named after it.

How could such a stable and strong pride disintegrate?  It just took the cessation of just two heartbeats.

The male went up north one day and never returned.  Park officials assume that he was killed in a battle with another lion.  Then the matriarch died of old age. The confused pride hung together for a while but when no leader emerged, they disbanded.

I know how quickly this can happen.  Four years ago, my life fell apart after my husband succumbed to a rapacious cancer.  A series of tragic events enfolded including loss of my career (to care for him), loss of aged pets, health issues, and a long series of financial struggles. No one would have foreseen that.  I had an important career, strong roots in my community and a busy life as a mother, wife and volunteer. But when my husband’s life was extinguished, I found myself wandering, not sure where I was going or where I belonged.

The cessation of two heartbeats obliterated a pride that had ruled for decades. 

The end of one life changed my life forever.

But recovery is the other side of loss.

Authorities were hopeful that the Southern Pride would be able to regroup. Five new males had been spotted in the Sabi Sands region.  Authorities discovered a strong lioness from the pride who had remained with her cubs and an older daughter. They held out the possibility that this lioness, her cubs, her daughter and one of those males would be able to rebuild the Southern Pride.

But we learned that only two of the five males had returned from a sojourn up north, both badly beaten and weakened.  This spelled the death knell for the Southern Pride. It would not be able to re-form.

Sometimes things break forever.

Note to Readers: This is the last of the Africa series—Thank you for reading!

Angela Rieck, a Caroline County native, received her PhD in Mathematical Psychology from the University of Maryland and worked as a scientist at Bell Labs, and other high-tech companies in New Jersey before retiring as a corporate executive. Angela and her dogs divide their time between St Michaels and Key West Florida. Her daughter lives and works in New York City.

There are too many elephants in Kruger National Park in South Africa.

What?  That cannot be!

I know that this flies in the face of the dire predictions that we receive from wildlife foundations.  

But it is true.  South Africa and its bordering countries have too many elephants.

It is estimated that Kruger National Park can support about 7,000-8,000 elephants.  Experts estimate that there are 20,000 elephants and the herds are growing rapidly. Elephants are destroying the trees, bushes and the entire landscape of the park.

Due to anti-poaching efforts, fences, and the unfortunate value of rhinoceros horns, elephants have no natural enemies and are able to live long lives and reproduce at will.

So, if you are riding through Kruger and it looks like a tornado hit it, don’t worry, a herd of elephants has simply ambled through another landscape.  

South African officials don’t know what to do about the elephants.

In the 1990’s, they allowed hunters to pay hundreds of thousands of dollars to “cull” (read massacre) some herds.  While they attempted to obliterate entire families, some elephants escaped and reported what had happened to other elephants.  Soon elephants began attacking humans. 

At another lodge, the owner asked a ranger to roust the elephants from the lodge using a white Range Rover. From then on, the elephants attacked any white Range Rover that drove on park land.

Don’t mess with an elephant’s memory. 

As authorities learned more about elephant intelligence, language and familial bonds, they lost their appetite for “culling.” 

So fortunately, that option is “off the table.”

Another possible solution would be to transport elephants to countries that need them.  That is problematic as well. Elephant family bonds are so strong that breaking up a family is simply cruel.  They would have to move the entire clan. But even if South Africa had the funds to do so, bordering nations have too many elephants. The elephants would have to be shipped great distances to countries that do not protect elephants. In short, sending them to their death.

So, they don’t know what to do.

We are the beneficiaries of this “problem” and we got to observe elephants almost every day.  

One night, I watched an elephant obliterate a poor tree in the backyard of my hut.  He ripped off the branches so that he could dine on the leaves. He balanced himself by putting one foot on my tiny deck. I watched it through the glass doors, it was very dark, a little scary, but thoroughly mesmerizing.

On one dusk game drive, we encountered three bull elephants. All three slowly plodded over to our parked open-air Land Rover.  The elder one wanted to connect with us and walked around our vehicle several times, brushing against the rear bumper. He stopped to look each of us in the eye. He kindly paused in front of me until I realized that I was still wearing my sunglasses. After I removed them, he looked into my eyes and then slowly and peacefully resumed walking around our vehicle and observing us.  After a final nod, he peed next to the Range Rover and slowly ambled away, signaling to the other bulls to do the same.  

As I watched those mammoth creatures slowly slip into the night, listening to the crunching sounds of their footsteps in the bush, I wondered what that elder elephant was thinking.  I don’t know if my presence had any impact on him, but his sure had an impact on me.

Angela Rieck, a Caroline County native, received her PhD in Mathematical Psychology from the University of Maryland and worked as a scientist at Bell Labs, and other high-tech companies in New Jersey before retiring as a corporate executive. Angela and her dogs divide their time between St Michaels and Key West Florida. Her daughter lives and works in New York City.

Last week I wrote about nature’s choreography, how the different species worked together (but not in agreement) to take what nature provided. The behavior of each species was crucial to its survival and the survival of the park. Nature behaved flawlessly.

But, like humans, nature isn’t perfect.

It was hard not to be in awe of nature at Kruger National Park in South Africa. We rose before dawn, grabbing whatever warm clothes we can find in the darkness to dash to our waiting Land Rover. No one was late. No one wanted to miss the African sunrise.

The sun rose quickly, a fierce red ball blazoning the cloudless sky. The dried landscape welcomed its arrival and the dry, cold air, quickly warmed. Africa smelled different, its pollution-free, dry air carried a musky scent from bushes, animals and plants that held the soil in place until the rains arrive in December. The sun spread its warmth and light onto the landscape and its creatures, most resting from their night of foraging and hunting.

With the exception of wild dogs, most species hunt at night. Lions and leopards lay in wait for the spectacularly camouflaged antelope, resting warthogs and unprotected babies.

At dusk, hippos rose from their cool river sanctuary to spend the evening consuming grasses. Their skin would blister in the hot sun and their bodies overheated quickly, so during the day we could only observe their bulging eyes and pink nostrils on the surface of the watering hole. When the air cooled, they emerged from their watery refuge. On our evening game drive, we heard the splashes of their large but agile bodies and listened to their deep grunts and groans as they began their feast.
Hippopotamuses have been cartooned as adorable, fat creatures wearing tutus, a wide flat-toothed grin and a sweet, clumsy nature. Never has an animal been so mischaracterized.

Hippopotamuses are the most dangerous animal in the bush, an estimated 500 people are killed by hippos each year. That’s right, more dangerous than lions, leopards, elephants and even rhinos. Those flat teeth you see have been sawed down by zookeepers.

Why are they so dangerous? Hippos are grouchy, unpredictable and quick. One afternoon a young impala leaped into a watering hole to evade a pack of wild dogs. Annoyed that this poor guy jumped into the river, the hippos simply drowned him…just because. The dogs would have eaten him, but the hippo herbivores just killed him. Hopefully his body made it to the shore in time for other carnivores to be fed.
But hippos weren’t the only ones who flouted nature. During our 6-day safari, we were able to observe a number of leopards. Leopards are a solitary bunch, the mother has the sole responsibility for childcare and as soon as the cubs are grown, they leave their home and have only sporadic reunions.

We observed a newcomer to the park. He was an ominous, young, magnificent, powerful male leopard. He had already seized territory from other leopards…but that wasn’t enough. We watched him obsessively sniffing, wandering, clearly on a mission. Our ranger explained that he had caught the scent of young leopard cubs and was searching for them…to kill.

From nature’s perspective, it made no sense. There was nothing to be gained by killing these cubs, there was plenty of territory with few leopards to occupy it. And if he was unsuccessful, he would likely mate with the female cubs that he was trying to kill.

The next day, we saw the mother relaxed and resting after consuming half of a large Kudu that she snared singlehandedly. We searched for her cubs, but she wouldn’t give away their hiding place. Several years before, she had been beaten by a male leopard and had to watch him kill her twin cubs. She was older now, and we left hoping that she was wiser, too.

The most endangered species in the bush are rhinos, but in Kruger, we were able to see almost a dozen. Rhinos are so seriously endangered that anti-poachers risk their lives every night patrolling the park (to date over 1,000 anti-poachers have been killed by poachers). Still, many male rhinoceroses die each year from injuries sustained during a fight with another male.

It shows that nature can be as slow to adapt as we are. Despite dwindling numbers of leopards and rhinos, they haven’t changed their aggressive behavior. And hippos, they kill just because.

Oh well, we all make mistakes.

I recently returned from Kruger National Park in South Africa.  In the next few columns, I will cover what I learned from the master teacher—nature.

Kruger was created in the late 1920s and is one of the largest national wildlife parks, approximately the size of New Jersey.  Kruger differs from the East and Central African savannahs because has some woodlands and offers a wider variety of animals but in smaller numbers.  

As one of South Africa’s greatest assets, Kruger is highly respected, spotlessly maintained, with no litter, few bones and even fewer skeletons.  

Winter is the dry season in Kruger, so the bushveld savannah is thick with dried grasslands, thirsty bushes and bare trees.  

And it can be cold, especially on the 3-hour morning open-air game drive, commencing at 6 a.m. with temperatures hovering in the 50s.  At 3:30 p.m., we hopped into the open-air land rovers for the 3-hour afternoon game drive. A ranger drove the land rover and a tracker sat in a jump seat in the front to spot the abundant wildlife and provide protection, in the very rare instance of danger.  

While these are wild animals, they have become quite used to humans, and view us as a curiosity, an annoyance or simply an irrelevance.  For that reason, we were able to get within a few feet of the animals without impacting their behavior. For example, when observing prides of lions, not even the cubs bothered to look in our direction.  

Seeing animals in their natural environment is breathtaking.  In one instance we were able to watch rare wild dogs consume their kill. 

Wild dogs are beautiful creatures.  Their faces resemble German Shepherds.  They have large rounded ears like hyenas. Their slim, slightly built bodies are covered in a beautiful camouflage colored fur.

Wild dogs are endangered, so observing them is a real treat.  They travel in packs of 7-10 and move quickly, often crossing national boundaries in a matter of days.  To feed the pack, they must hunt twice a day. Due to finely tuned, flawless cooperation, they are the most effective hunters in South Africa, boasting success rates as high as 90% (compared to 25% for lions and 17% for wolves). In Kruger they feast on antelope such as Impala, Kudus, Nyalas, Duikers and Steenboks.

We had the incredible fortune of encountering a pack within 10 minutes of killing a young male impala.  

The dogs worked flawlessly as a group, taking turns feasting on the antelope while others guarded the kill. There were no disagreements, just a silent understanding of their roles.  

Aware that hyenas would immediately pick up the scent of the kill, they ate quickly. Sure enough, within minutes, two hyenas appeared, intent upon stealing the kill.

Each hyena was twice their size, and had the hyenas used a coordinated attack they would have been able to steal the kill.  But the hyenas bickered among themselves, allowing the smaller dogs to keep them pinned.

The coordination among the pack was amazing, each instinctively knew their roles, didn’t bark, growl or yelp (I wish they could train my dogs).  As soon as the hyenas arrived, other members of the pack stopped eating to assist the guards.  

Despite their nasty reputation, hyenas have one of the most important roles in the bush.  Their strong jaws can crush and consume large bones that even lions cannot break.  

We observed one hyena steal the impala’s head and crush and swallow it in a single bite. Hyenas eat so much bone that their scat (a euphemism for you know what) resembles white chicken eggs.

We watched while nature continued to do its dance. While the dogs ate, vultures hovered in the bare trees. A few brave ones began to pick around the feast. But for the most part, they waited for the hyenas and dogs to finish.

One by one the dogs silently crept back to their den, knowing that their pups were vulnerable to hyenas, lions and leopards, they were careful to escape unnoticed.  Back in the den, the pack would regurgitate some of their food for the pups. 

After the dogs departed, the hyenas grabbed the large bones and the vultures wandered around the site eating any remaining morsels of flesh.

Within ½ hour all signs of the kill were gone, anyone wandering onto the scene would see only matted grass and perhaps a wandering hyena or vulture searching for scraps.

So what did nature teach me?

1. The dogs acting collectively were able to beat a greater foe.  
2. The vultures, believing there would be enough for them, patiently waited their turn.
3. The underappreciated cleanup crew of hyenas and vultures left the place spotless. Without them, the bush would be filled with rotting corpses and skeletons. 

It was nature’s play where everyone understood their roles. Their life and death struggle choreographed into a flawless dance.  

Angela Rieck, a Caroline County native, received her PhD in Mathematical Psychology from the University of Maryland and worked as a scientist at Bell Labs, and other high-tech companies in New Jersey before retiring as a corporate executive. Angela and her dogs divide their time between St Michaels and Key West Florida. Her daughter lives and works in New York City.

Euphemisms…long may they reign

Every year my large family gets together and with so many of us (at last count 37), we need to make decisions and act quickly. Also, in my family, no one gets a pass on a mistake.  Often these mistakes result in funny stories that are told and retold, and a lot of laughter, and sometimes an addition to our vocabulary. 

While vacationing in Vermont one summer, a server brought over a tantalizing, bounteous display of breakfast sweets.  Rarely have I seen such a selection of doughnuts, Danishes, sticky buns, and, frankly it was overwhelming. My sister who had to make the first choice, chose a jelly donut.  After the server left, my sister quietly admitted that she didn’t really like jelly doughnuts but was so overwhelmed that she just picked one. After guffawing for days, it became a euphemism for making a mistake when overwhelmed with options.  Rather than saying I screwed up, one of us will say, I had a “jelly donut moment” and we nod in understanding. I takes the sting out of making an unfortunate choice.

It is such an effective phrase that our family uses it as part of the vernacular. I have used it with friends and acquaintances. After explaining the origin and its meaning, some want to use it too.  It is just a good phrase for something that we often do.

That is one of the reasons that I like euphemisms.  They take the sting out of unpleasant events. Just think about how many words we create to describe bodily functions.

But what makes these euphemisms so cool is that we can admit mistakes, embarrassment or whatever, and everyone nods knowingly without judgement.  Over the years, euphemisms accumulate, but the sting does not. My father liked the phrase “All folks ain’t like some” to accept that we will disagree.  My brother is particularly good at coming up with new words and phrases to describe things. It keeps us laughing.

So maybe we all should create more euphemisms that might help bring the temperature of these political clashes down.

Angela Rieck, a Caroline County native, received her PhD in Mathematical Psychology from the University of Maryland and worked as a scientist at Bell Labs, and other high-tech companies in New Jersey before retiring as a corporate executive. Angela and her dogs divide their time between St Michaels and Key West Florida. Her daughter lives and works in New York City.

I got another foster dog last week. Jocko is a 3-year-old purebred Havanese and since he is non-shed I will be able to rehabilitate him.  

It will take a while because, despite assurances to the contrary, he was a puppy mill breeding dog.  Jocko’s purchasers had been told that Jocko was no longer needed for breeding and that he had “lived in the home, played with children and toys, was housetrained, and a shy but, sweet dog.”

The family realized that they had been duped when Jocko’s promised blankets and toys arrived with price tags on them.  Jocko was underweight and had never played with any toys or even slept on a blanket. For three years, all he had was a small cage in a kennel and a hard, cold concrete floor. 

Unaccustomed to homes and people, Jocko was unable to assimilate, and I offered to take him. I knew that Jocko needed a dog to teach him how to be a dog.

Since Jocko had little contact with humans, he can be uncomfortable when approached (typical signs of a puppy mill breeding dog). He is not house trained.  He is afraid of things that go bump in the house, the appliances, the street noises, the cell phone ring.  

Like most puppy mill dogs, he gets along great with other dogs. Jocko will learn how to live in a home by watching how my dogs behave. 

I lost count of how many puppy mill moms and dads I have rehabilitated over the years, probably over 50.  For that reason, it is hard for me to see the purebred and hybrid dogs on my walks, knowing that most of these dogs came from puppy mills.  

Advocates estimate that 90%- 95% of puppies sold on the Internet and pet stores are from puppy mills. An estimated 2 million puppies are purchased each year from the 10,000 puppy mills.  Puppy mills mass produce the most desirable dogs including purebreds and the “in dogs” which are now poodle mixes.  

How can you tell if your dog was purchased from a puppy mill? 

Not from the breeder! Breeders will assure you that the moms and dads live in their home and the puppies run free on rolling hills of rich green grass.  

But here is what to look for if you want to avoid purchasing a puppy mill puppy.

• Stay away from the Internet, some classified ads and, of course, pet stores. A relative bought a puppy from a pet store and believed their assurances that their puppies came from reputable breeders—that is—until she saw that her puppy had been shipped from Romania. 
• Puppy mills typically have puppies available at any time.
• Puppy mills usually offer more than one dog breed. 
• Most of the hybrid puppies (e.g., poodle mixes, “doodles,” puggles, etc.) are from puppy mills.  For that reason, the original breeder of labradoodles now regrets creating the breed.
• The states with the most puppy mills are: Pennsylvania, Arkansas, Missouri, Kansas, Iowa, Nebraska and Oklahoma.
• Breeders from the Amish and Mennonite communities (particularly in Ohio, Indiana, and Pennsylvania) are notorious for running puppy mills.
• Bottom line: You cannot be sure unless you visit the facility and meet the parents. If the parents are shy and skittish, chances are they spent their life in a kennel.

Puppy mill breeders will do everything they can to assure you that, unlike the others, THEY are not a puppy mill. Right, and they also may try to sell you the Brooklyn Bridge.

How did I learn so much?  About 20 years ago, I bought a cockapoo puppy from the Internet. I have been trying to pay it back ever since.

I get it.  It is so easy to use the Internet to find the right puppy just when you want it. Legitimate breeders don’t usually have puppies available and carefully evaluate if you would be a good home for their puppy.  It is harder to buy from a legitimate breeder than to click on that cute puppy that is available today.

Some people are under the misconception that buying a puppy from a puppy mill “saves” that puppy.  Sadly, it does not. While most of the puppies live amazing lives; their moms and dads live in squalor, suffering horribly until they are rescued or killed.  

One of my dogs, Annie, is a puppy mill mom. She was kept in the bottom cage.  

What does that mean? 

In many puppy mills dog cages are stacked on top of each other, packed with barking, neglected dogs and (so that the “miller” doesn’t have to clean them) the “floors” are wire grates. Since Annie was on the bottom, she was covered in the urine and excrement from the dogs above her.  Her feet are permanently splayed from living on a wire floor. She weighed 12 pounds (normal weight is 18 pounds) when she was rescued. She still suffers from PTSD.  

Other parts of Annie’s story are too horrible to speak of.

But she is one of the lucky ones.  Most mothers are killed at six years old because their breeding capabilities decline. Before that, they will give birth to two or three litters a year.  The dads are kept in cages for 8-10 years until they are killed or rescued. Most facilities lack electricity so the temperatures can be extreme. Dogs are fed minimal, non-nutritious food, and receive little or no veterinary care. All day they must crouch in small, overcrowded wire cages listening to the incessant barking of dozens or hundreds of tortured souls.  

The puppy that I bought (mistakenly) from a puppy mill was one of the best dogs I ever had.  She was adorable, sweet, kind, beautiful, a special, special dog; we adored her. But I still cringe knowing where she came from.

Little Jocko watches my dogs.  They will teach him how to bond with people.  They will teach him how to chase squirrels. They will teach him how to bark and annoy my long-suffering neighbors.  

Housetraining puppy mill breeders is not for the faint of heart.  These dogs have learned to live in their feces and urine. Teaching them about personal care takes a while.  (Annie took 6 years!)

As I start to pet my dogs, Jocko lines up behind them, while they jostle each other to get more affection, he watches them.  Finally, it is Jocko’s turn and he steps up to me, as if called to attention by a drill sergeant. I softly pet him and scratch him behind his ears.  He looks up at me with his sweet, questioning eyes that seem to ask, “do I like this?”

And I smile at him and whisper into his ear. 

“You will.”

Angela Rieck, a Caroline County native, received her PhD in Mathematical Psychology from the University of Maryland and worked as a scientist at Bell Labs, and other high-tech companies in New Jersey before retiring as a corporate executive. Angela and her dogs divide their time between St Michaels and Key West Florida. Her daughter lives and works in New York City.

At the end of the story about Noah and the great flood, a rainbow appears as a symbol of God’s promise that this will never happen again.  But there is a better reminder of a force that protects us every day…the Aurora.

Observing the Northern Lights has been on my bucket list; but that took a tumble down the list when I discovered that they can only be observed at the earth’s poles (I knew that) in winter (didn’t know that).

So how are the Northern Lights a sign that we are being protected?

The story can be told by comparing Earth and Mars  development. Earth and Mars were very similar when they formed over 4 billion years ago. Both had an atmosphere, chaotic activity, water and carbon, the key elements for life.  Even more important, both had geothermal vents which many scientists believe is where life began. 

Mars was once a blue planet with a vast sea that covered 1/5th of its surface.  Large, freshwater lakes on Mars survived for hundreds of millions of years. It had a 2 ½ mile deep waterfall!

Yet today, Mars is a cold, red, dry, dusty planet and its neighbor, earth, is a blue planet teeming with life and water. 

What happened?

Approximately 3.7 billion years ago, the chance for life on Mars evaporated with its atmosphere.  

Scientists believe the atmosphere was removed by solar winds.

Solar winds are streams of charged particles from the sun that can strip away the atmosphere. Unlike Mars, Earth is protected by a strong magnetic field that forms around it like a shield. Earth’s magnetic field invisibly surrounds our planet; but on some wintry days near the poles, we can see it in action—the aurora.

Our auroras are a visible spectacle of our magnetic field protecting us from the solar winds…all in a mysterious and beautiful display. Technically, the aurora is a result of disturbances in the magnetosphere caused by solar wind, but I like my description better.

So why does earth have this protection and Mars does not? (As it was explained to me) Planets’ magnetic fields are formed by the liquid iron in their cores. Earth’s size means that it has enough liquid iron to generate a formidable magnetic field.  Mars, on the other hand, is a much smaller planet, so it generated a weaker magnetic field. The combination of Mars’s distance from the sun and its relatively small size destroyed its magnetic field, allowing solar winds to gradually rob Mars of its chance for life. Billions of years ago, it stole Mars’ oxygen and hydrogen and eventually its lakes, oceans and waterfalls. To this day, the solar winds continue to strip away Mars’ remaining atmosphere.

So, the aurora is not only beautiful and surreal, but it shows us in a dramatic fashion how our magnetic field is protecting us like a winter jacket from the solar winds. 

Maybe I’ll buy a warmer jacket and move it up on my bucket list. 

Note:  NOVA on PBS has a summer series on the planets for all of those interested in these stories and more.  

Angela Rieck, a Caroline County native, received her PhD in Mathematical Psychology from the University of Maryland and worked as a scientist at Bell Labs, and other high-tech companies in New Jersey before retiring as a corporate executive. Angela and her dogs divide their time between St Michaels and Key West Florida. Her daughter lives and works in New York City.

In Tidewater Tales, John Barth likens our reaction to death to chickens in a chicken coop at the mercy of a large black snake.  When the snake kills a chicken, the other chickens squawk and run around nervously, but they soon return to their usual routine of eating, clucking and laying eggs. This is also a fair analogy for our responses to mass shootings.  The “chickens” (us), talk, criticize and demand gun control measures; while the NRA and its congressmen, lay low (like the black snake) until we quit squawking.

Today I am one of those squawkers.

I had hoped that after Sandy Hook, where 20 first graders and 6 adults were killed in a horrific act of gun violence; we would pass legislation to protect ourselves.

But the black snake just waited us out. 

In fact, after the Sandy Hook shooting nearly every state implemented new gun laws and almost two-thirds of those laws made access to guns easier (NY Times 2013). Two states that passed gun laws encouraging gun ownership were, you guessed it, Ohio and Texas.

Then I hoped that reforms might happen after the Parkland High School shooting which left 17 dead.  Some students took off from school to go around the country advocating for gun laws to protect us.  

But the black snake just waited.

Statistics show that there is little about gun ownership that is safe.  

The risk of homicide is three times higher in homes with firearms. Over a dozen studies have found that increasing guns in homes increases homicides or violence. States with the most guns and the most favorable gun laws report the most accidental shooting deaths. Accidents made up 1.3% of the 36,247 U.S. shooting deaths in 2015.

The most recent Walmart shooting put to bed the canard that the best weapons against gun violence are “good guys” with guns. No gun owners in Texas, a strong open carry state, were able to stop the rampage. It turns out protecting yourself and protecting others using guns are two completely different skills, according to law enforcement officials.

Most of us want responsible gun controls, 57% favor a ban on assault weapons, 90% approve of background checks. The NRA’s extreme positions and recent scandal demonstrate that they do not represent the rights of responsible gun owners.

Which causes me to be frustrated and wonder why responsible gun owners (who represent the vast majority of gun owners) are not incensed by how they are being used by the NRA. The NRA today is little more than a shill for gun manufacturers.  

Despite its obvious ties to gun manufacturers, the NRA has effectively sold fear, convincing its members that there will be a “domino effect” if we pass any laws to restrict gun ownership. Some have been convinced that the “government” will swoop down and take their guns away. (It is estimated that there are almost 400 million guns in America. Have you ever seen the government in action?  Does anyone really believe that that the government could do this?)

But something must be done.  While many of the proposed solutions such as; red flag laws, background check and a ban on assault weapons, will do little to bring down the number of deaths; IT IS A START.  

Can we let common sense prevail? Gun owners are already protected by the constitution. 

Something as simple as banning assault weapons would have had a significant impact on the death toll in the Ohio shootings, where the shooter was able to kill 9 people and injure 27 others in less than a minute. He fired at least 41 times before six officers responded and killed him. And in El Paso, police responded within six minutes, by then the gunman had fled, leaving 22 people dead. The police have been able to respond very quickly and effectively to many mass shootings (the glaring exception being Parkland), but assault weapons are faster, than, well “a speeding bullet.”

There is an inconvenient truth here, the 10-year ban on assault weapons which ended in 2004 had no impact on the number of gun-related deaths.  This is because there are so many gun related deaths each year and only a tiny fraction of gun deaths are the result of mass killings.

But what if a ban on assault weapons saved the life of one innocent victim, as it would have in Ohio or Texas or Sandy Hook or the nightclub shooting in Florida…would it be worth it?  

Now back to my chicken coop analogy, the good news is that we are not chickens.  We can sign petitions; we can notify our representatives and we can write checks and keep up the pressure in the hopes that someday our lawmakers listen to the voice of the majority. 

We can find where that black snake is hiding.

Angela Rieck, a Caroline County native, received her PhD in Mathematical Psychology from the University of Maryland and worked as a scientist at Bell Labs, and other high-tech companies in New Jersey before retiring as a corporate executive. Angela and her dogs divide their time between St Michaels and Key West Florida. Her daughter lives and works in New York City.

I am a gardener, so I know suffering.

I am not sure who said, “nature abhors a garden” (it has been attributed to author Michael Pollan). I don’t know about that, but I do know that “nature abhors MY garden.”

By midsummer, I wonder if I should put my suffering plants out of their misery. The hot, humid summer has reduced my hydrangeas to wilted leaves, dried flower heads and rust spots.  

My lawn has dried up, some annuals have browned and even one rosebush died.  I don’t blame them, I wouldn’t want to stay out in this heat either.

Even the blackbirds have tired of taunting me and headed to more productive farmland.

It is just me and my spent flower heads, tired bushes, wilting hydrangea, dried up daylilies, brown loosestrife, slug-eaten hosta, suffering annuals, powdery mildew-stained coreopsis and other unhappy plants. 

My underground sprinkler system couldn’t keep up while I was away on vacation and some of my thirsty plants, like astilbe, just dried up.

My pots are annoyed as well, the caladiums, used to Florida weather, appear to believe that this climate is worse.

To be fair, some plants are doing well, crab grass, wild violets, wild grape and other weeds appear to be thriving.

Autumn gardeners may be enjoying the grasses, sedum, mums, and asters.  But my garden lacks the sun and space necessary for those plants.

So being a gardener, I know that I must continue to suffer. I go out in the early morning, dutifully weeding, watering, snipping off dead flower heads, removing dead leaves and pretending that my garden will recover.  

No, we gardeners cannot give up.  

After all, there is always next spring.

Angela Rieck, a Caroline County native, received her PhD in Mathematical Psychology from the University of Maryland and worked as a scientist at Bell Labs, and other high-tech companies in New Jersey before retiring as a corporate executive. Angela and her dogs divide their time between St Michaels and Key West Florida. Her daughter lives and works in New York City.

Last month I got a robotic vacuum and I am a little obsessed with it.  

If you haven’t seen one, a robotic vacuum cleaner is small, round and automatically vacuums the floors for about 2 hours. Its 2 ½” height allows it to vacuum under beds and furniture and it knows how to hug the perimeter.  When the battery gets low, it returns to its recharging station.

So why I am enamored with it (besides loving how clean my floors are)? I used to write code and I am fascinated with its programming.  In truth, my robot is not particularly intelligent, its route around my house appears to be random and it keeps getting stuck in the same places. It also takes a circuitous route when it returns to its home base for recharging.  It appears to leave virtual breadcrumbs and retraces its steps rather than go directly back to its charging station. Once I left the front door open and it followed me outside, attempting to vacuum the lawn.

In researching robots, my first question is what is the difference between a robot and an ordinary machine?  Bottom line, there is no consensus. Wikipedia defines it as “a mechanical or virtual intelligent agent that can perform tasks automatically or with guidance, typically by remote control.”

But children’s toys, drones, TVs, computers, Alexa, cars and even some everyday appliances could fit in this definition. I have chosen to define robots as moving objects that perform programmed functions that do not require continuous human monitoring.

The earliest robot in history depends on your definition of robots.  But my definition would credit the first robot to the Muslim scholars of the 8th, 9th and most famously 12th century.  

These scientists apparently learned the basics from the Greeks but moved past water clocks to automata. The Arabs were the first to use the concept of robotics to aid humans.  The most prolific scientist, Al-Jazari, used hydropower to create an automated peacock, a waitress who could serve drinks, and other interesting machines. Al-Jazari published The Book of Knowledge of Ingenious Mechanical Devices, which described his work, otherwise it would have been lost. As it was, with limited communication capabilities, his work was relegated to obscurity.

It took years before it was rediscovered and European hobbyists developed automata, which were featured in the charming movie Hugo.

But the name “robot” didn’t appear until the 1920’s. A Czech playwright produced a play about a humanoid mechanical creature and called it a “robot”.  “Robot” is actually derived from a Czech word which means “forced labor”.

The invention of the transistor, sensors and computers have accelerated robotic development.  Robots are famously used in factories and self-driving cars are not far behind.  

The biggest problem with the humanoid type robots is movement.  It turns out that walking has been notoriously difficult to recreate.  While robotics is advancing quickly, we still have a way to go before we can recreate Rosie of the Jetsons.

I recently got another robotic vacuum for my other home.  I chose a different brand so that I could study its movements.  This one’s movements are flashier; it likes to spin more but it shares the same limitations as my other robot.  

There are a number of robot competitions and PBS featured one in a NOVA episode.  RoboCup and DARPA are the most prestigious competitions. Contestants are provided with a series of tasks that their robot must perform and the contestant team is free to build any kind of robot that they choose.  It is truly an International competition, usually by teams who are associated with a University. Each year DARPA changes the focus. One year, it was firefighting. This year, it will be automobiles. The DARPA contest winner is awarded $2M and it is fun to watch the “creatures” that they fabricate.  

We are on the brink of this new technology making our lives easier, self-driving cars are almost there.  I don’t fear them taking over, I welcome integrating them into my life. We have a long way to go, but it will be fun watching the journey. 

Angela Rieck, a Caroline County native, received her PhD in Mathematical Psychology from the University of Maryland and worked as a scientist at Bell Labs, and other high-tech companies in New Jersey before retiring as a corporate executive. Angela and her dogs divide their time between St Michaels and Key West Florida. Her daughter lives and works in New York City.