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Plague is emerging as a threat to humans and wildlife throughout western North America. Sylvatic plague, caused by the bacterium Yersinia pestis, is maintained within a network of mammal species and their fleas. No ‘classic’ reservoir has been identified; no resistant host species is known to develop sufficient bacteremia to support vector transmission. Epizootics are detected through the observation of mass mortality in conspicuous species like prairie dogs. Prairie dogs have key effects on both the ecological and epidemiological dynamics of prairie communities. The diversity of small mammals is lower in prairie dog colonies, despite higher densities of certain species on colonies relative to other grassland sites. This pattern suggests increased competition or apparent competition in colonies, perhaps through shared use of prairie dog burrows. Graphical models demonstrate how the ratio of interspecific to intraspecific interactions may be altered in colonies, affecting the potential for plague transmission in complex ways.

Prairie dogs were in many ways as central to the prairie economy as bison, but unlike bison they lived not just on the prairie but in it as well. Prairie dogs spent their lives literally under the feet of bison. A prairie dog town is more dug than built. They create tunnels too small for most predators to enter and so make homes that are more secure and also, being underground, more temperate. The closer the blade is to the roots, the higher the percentage of protein and the lower the percentage of cellulose it contains. Closely cropped grass is a necessity for prairie dogs and a treat for bison. So bison spend a lot of time in prairie dog towns. Meanwhile, prairie dogs depend on bison to get the grass short enough for them to live there.

The black-tailed prairie dog, the most abundant of four prairie dog species in the United States, had shrunk in number to perhaps 2 percent of its original population and continued to decline because of plague and poisoning. This chapter describes the attempts to protect and conserve prairie dogs. The National Wildlife Federation, a respected mainstream conservation group, had submitted a petition to list the black-tailed prairie dog as a threatened species. Most states agreed to work in a loose organization called the Interstate Black-tailed Prairie Dog Conservation Team. However, campaigns about the prairie dog's destructiveness sold their eradication to the public. In 2004 an incumbent U.S. senator from South Dakota fell to a challenger who built a platform partly on prairie dog control. That same year the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service dropped the black-tailed prairie dog from its list of candidate species.

Most colonies of black-tailed prairie dogs had been exterminated in southwestern New Mexico. This chapter narrates the prairie dog restoration project proposed by the author. It also discusses both the positive and negative implications of prairie dogs. Prairie dogs reduce rangeland condition. They graze very intensively. As colonies age, the grass cover within colonies declines and the condition trends from good to poor on the traditional rangeland manager's scale. Prairie dogs also benefit rare wildlife. The black-footed ferret, often billed as North America's most endangered mammal, needs dogtowns to survive.

Black-footed ferrets are in the same family as badgers but aren't in the same class as diggers. Long, low, and slender, they find prairie dog tunnels to be just their size. So they simply move into a home a dog has dug, and evict or eat any occupant. Like other weasels, they eat both summer and winter, so a family of ferrets can make a big dent in the numbers of their immediate neighbors. Natural selection molded it, body and behavior, into a prairie dog-killing machine; but in giving the ferret that singular success, natural selection pruned away all its other options. The black-footed ferret has become one of the rarest and most endangered mammals on earth.

Beginning in the 1890s, the US Biological Survey perfected methods to hunt, trap, and poison animals that threatened crops or livestock; after 1914, it executed campaigns that exterminated hundreds of thousands of predators and hundreds of millions of small mammals across vast areas of rangelands. But their absence was little noted by range scientists who sought to see or imagine original, pre-cattle boom conditions. Meanwhile, Forest Service range science began with the Coyote-Proof Pasture Experiment, designed by Frederick Coville and conducted between 1907 and 1909. The experiment asked whether a herd of sheep would grow and produce wool more efficiently in a space where predators were absent and human herders (and their dogs) were therefore unnecessary. It was declared a success almost before any data had been collected, and the final interpretations were seriously flawed, but the experiment prompted the Forest Service to take over range research from the Bureau of Plant Industry and to elevate James Jardine, who conducted the experiment, to direct the agency’s national range administration. The near-absence of predators and the ubiquity of fences, along with exclusive land tenure, became unacknowledged assumptions or blind spots for range science.

Black-footed ferrets were reduced to a remnant population of 10 in 1985 due to diseases (plague, canine distemper), but successful captive breeding and releases have improved the prospects for ferret recovery. Comparisons between black-footed ferrets and Siberian polecats, close relatives that can interbreed and produce fertile offspring, allow the following evolutionary speculation. Predation on ferrets and polecats tends to narrow their niches and promote specialization due to requirements for escape habitats. In Asia, that influence is countered by the larger and more diverse area of steppe and alpine meadow habitats for polecats, and by plague which causes large variation in prey abundance. In North America, the selective pressure favoring specialization in ferrets on prairie dog prey and burrows had no strong counter-force before plague invaded. Plague is an immense challenge to black-footed ferret recovery, and several management tools including vaccines and vector control may be necessary to conserve the species.

Badgers are carnivorous digging machines. They have short, powerful limbs; long, strong claws; a wedge-shaped head; and no noticeable neck. Out on the Great Plains, that means a lot of prairie dogs for them. Behavioral ecology theory predicts most small carnivores will be solitary, and American badgers conform emphatically. The females defend an area large enough to feed themselves, post it with scent marks, and patrol. Females go where the food is, males go where the females are. Stories about badgers and coyotes teaming up have long been part of the lore of Native Americans.

The chapter highlights the interactions of weather, grass, bison, and prairie dogs. When rain falls abundantly and bison graze lightly on Bad River Ranches, western wheatgrass proliferates, suppresses buffalograss, and allows stalking predators to push back the margins of prairie dog colonies. Conversely, under heavy grazing and in drought years, western wheat suffers. Buffalograss and prairie dogs proliferate because the former gets a full dose of sunlight and the latter get a better view of approaching coyotes and badgers. In the Great Plains, wild bison often overgraze the range. Prairie dogs usually graze even more intensively than bison.

This chapter provides a historical background of Colorado's prairies followed by a list of prairies by county. Each site is briefly described, followed by symbols showing site features, a brief location, and a phone number. Colorado prairies are mostly in the eastern part of the state. These shortgrass prairies held great numbers of black-tailed prairie dog, mountain plover, burrowing owl, ferruginous hawk, swift fox, and herds of bison, deer, and pronghorn. The western grasslands are usually not associated with the prairie but do have some plants in common with the prairies of the Great Plains.

This chapter recounts the experiences of Lewis and Clark wintering with Hidatsa and Mandans. Topics covered include the Mandan, Hidatsa, and Arikara Indians as traders; Mandan and Hidatsa villages, the prairie dog, and the black-footed ferret; and Lewis and Clark surviving a cold winter.

Science writers at a museum, zoo, or aquarium are in a powerful position. We provide the first line of information that visitors receive about the place. The reading public comes eager to be inspired or entertained and maybe learn something about science and nature in the process. One of the most important jobs for a museum science writer is producing the text that accompanies exhibits. Exhibit writing was once the province of scientists or specialist curators, who felt no guilt about putting up dense technical prose for the visitor to either plod through or ignore. As long as the label didn't misidentify a dinosaur or a physical law of nature, all was well. Thankfully, the last 20 years have seen an evolution in museum exhibit writing. Curators and museum directors began to take pity on the visitor and started hiring professional writers to make the museum experience less mystifying. Museum developers have become aware they are not talking to themselves, but to an audience that might need some help understanding the physics exhibit, stuffed animal, or strange deep-sea jellyfish swimming in front of their eyes. It can be a challenge, especially at a museum like the Exploratorium, where successful interactive exhibits must be both operated and understood by the visitor. Few writers have so many functions to serve in so few words. A title and a tag line might call on the kinds of skills an advertising copywriter has, pulling people in before they know what they're going to be doing. Then a set of instructions helps a visitor build, experience, or do something that may or may not “work.” After that, you get to be a narrative science writer, explaining what just happened and why, translating, for instance, from the point of view of a biologist, physicist, or exhibit builder. Next, you might turn into a social commentator or a science historian, connecting the experience to the real world or pointing out the exhibit's historical significance. All in no more than 100 words, shorter than this paragraph. It's a tough job, but it can be rewarding when all the pieces come together.