American Bison

Hello! I am an American Bison, though many people call me a buffalo. I want to tell you my story. Long before the year 1800, my ancestors and I roamed in giant herds across the Great Plains of North America. There were millions of us, and when we moved, the whole earth seemed to rumble under our hooves. We were like a great, shaggy river flowing over the grasslands. I have a strong body, with a big hump on my shoulders and a thick, warm coat of fur that kept me safe from the biting winter winds. I lived with my family in a large herd, and we always looked out for one another. We spent our days grazing on sweet grasses under a sky that felt as wide as the whole world.

In the 1800s, our world began to change in ways we couldn't understand. New people came to the plains, bringing loud noises and organizing great hunts that were unlike anything we had ever experienced before. Our herds, which had once stretched so far you couldn't see the end of them, started to get smaller and smaller. It was a very confusing and frightening time for us. The great rumbling of our hooves grew quieter each year. By 1889, there were fewer than a thousand of us left in the entire world. The vast plains that were once our home felt lonely and empty. We were so close to disappearing from the Earth forever.

Just when it felt like our story was coming to an end, some people realized that the world would be a sadder place without us. They decided they had to help. On December 8th, 1905, a group of caring people, which included President Theodore Roosevelt, formed the American Bison Society. Their mission was very simple: to save us from extinction. They worked to create special, protected places where we could live safely. Sanctuaries like Yellowstone National Park and the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge became our new homes. In these safe areas, the few remaining herds, including my ancestors, could finally live in peace, raise their calves, and our numbers began to slowly and carefully grow once more.

Today, I am proud to say there are hundreds of thousands of us! It is a wonderful comeback story. On May 9th, 2016, I was given a great honor when I was officially named the National Mammal of the United States. This title shows that people now value my place in the world. My life is still very important for keeping the grasslands healthy. When I roll in the dirt to give myself a dust bath, I create hollows in the ground that collect rainwater, which gives smaller animals a place to drink. My grazing also helps different kinds of grasses and flowers grow, which makes the whole prairie a healthier home for every creature. I am a symbol of strength and the wild spirit of North America, and I am proud to still be here, rumbling across the plains.