One year ago today we brought home a beaver who you all know as Agnes Myrtle. She was so skinny that her bones creaked when I picked her up. She was filthy, covered in wounds and maggots and smelled so bad it was hard to hold her close. But I did hold her close because I made the decision that if she was going to die she was going to die knowing she was loved. See, beavers are very social animals and Agnes was all alone. She had lost her beaver life partner (they monogamously mate for life) and