Opinion: Can our evolving political landscape learn a lesson from a Colorado ferret de-extinction program?

On a cloud-dappled Tuesday in late October, something of a miracle is unfolding on the remote and brutally windy prairies of southeastern Colorado. 

As part of an effort to restore a thriving ecosystem to the region, the private, non-profit Southern Plains Land Trust, or SPLT, is releasing 33 critically endangered black-footed ferrets among the reserve’s prairie dog communities. It’s not only a real opportunity for reestablishing shortgrass prairie biodiversity but also a viable solution for environmental protection in our ever-divided nation.

I have driven more than seven hours to join in this historic endeavor. Our three “release groups” are each responsible for introducing 10 of these chittering, masked predators to their new homes. Born the previous spring and raised at the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s National Black-Footed Ferret Conservation Center in northern Colorado, these young “kits” have arrived in individual carriers containing some shredded paper bedding and a corrugated plastic tube that mimics the burrows they will soon inhabit.

The release technique is fairly straightforward: put on protective gloves, open the crate door, carefully transfer the ferret-in-a-tube to the prairie dog hole, watch each vanish, and finish by tossing in a dead hamster as the ferret’s last free meal. Celebrate. Repeat. Rarely does the process actually go this smoothly, of course, but after bouncing over the dirt roads to SPLT, most ferrets are eager for freedom.

The prairie dogs do not share our elation. Within minutes of dropping each ferret into a mound, panicked prairie dogs pop up from other holes, sounding alarms as if keenly aware that their entire world has just been rocked.

Black-footed ferrets (Mustela nigripes) once ranged across the vibrant prairie habitats unfolding across the center of the North American continent. Small and weasel-like, these sable-furred mammals weigh about 2 pounds and are just over 18 inches long. A distinctive dark cape drapes across their back followed by a 5-inch, black-tipped, bushy tail. Short, black legs sporting razor-sharp claws, triangular, black-lined and erect ears, and a sooty Zorro-like eye mask complete the look.

The sole endemic North American ferret is deceptively cute. Utilizing the warren-like burrow systems of its primary prairie dog prey as home and hunting ground, black-footed ferrets annually devour more than 100 prairie dogs each, an appetite that comprises 90 percent of their diet.

But the consequence of ferrets’ specialized carnivory meant they were highly susceptible to eradication once 19th century American expansion westward prioritized ranching, agriculture and settlement. By the early 20th century, relentless campaigns of trapping and poisoning accompanied by development, habitat loss and diseases had devastated black-footed ferret numbers.

A Hail Mary listing of them as endangered in 1967 was too little, too late. In 1979, the Fish and Wildlife Service declared black-footed ferrets extinct. 

They were wrong.

Instead, sometime in the night of Sept. 26, 1981, a ranch dog named Shep brought home a dead black-footed ferret “prize” in Meeteetsee, Wyoming. The Fish and Wildlife Service soon collected all 18 remaining individuals in the colony to begin a captive breeding and release program. Ravaged by canine distemper and sylvatic plague, these remnant ferrets became the foundation of a significant rewilding campaign.

Their small numbers, however, created an exceedingly shallow gene pool; just seven females form the foundation of all captive-bred black-footed ferret genetics today. SPLT’s ferrets were born of this same genetic constriction, but unlike previous releases, this particular group of five males and five females will have a slight advantage. Prior to the ferrets’ arrival, SPLT staff have completely enclosed this particular 200-acre prairie dog colony with an electric fence in an effort to keep ferret predators like coyotes, badgers, and swift foxes at bay. 

The third release of the day is mine, a female kit born of “Maybelline,” so I privately call her L’Oréal. Within seconds, she has popped up in a neighboring hole, indicating she’s already learning the geography of her new environment.

If de-extinction of these and other reintroduced black-footed ferrets is to succeed, they will have to diversify genetically. To address this bottleneck, scientists turned to cloning and in November of this year, they announced that a cloned mother named Antonia had successfully given birth to viable kits with three times the genetic diversity of any living ferret.

SPLT’s rewilding and de-extinction efforts are ecologically significant at scale. Their big-tent program currently cooperatively owns or manages more than 60,000 acres of conservation easements across one of the most threatened habitats in America. 

This “New Conservation” model also offers a rare political win-win scenario: SPLT’s valuation of private enterprise and the free market attracts supporters across a broad political spectrum and ensures the protection of critical species and intact ecosystems. This is a way forward in our evolving political landscape.

Sara Dant, of Santa Fe, New Mexico, is an award-winning writer, environmental historian, emeritus professor and avid outdoor enthusiast.

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