“They say that a child who aspires to be an engine
driver very rarely grows up to fill that role in life. If this is so, then I am an exceptionally
lucky person, for at the age of two I made up my mind quite firmly and
unequivocally that the only thing I wanted to do was study animals. Nothing else interested me.”
Thus begins famous British zoologist Gerald
Durrell’s A Bevy of Beasts, a memoir
of the young Durrell’s apprenticeship/crash-course in zookeeping at the
Zoological Society of London’s Whipsnade facility. I can relate to Durrell’s feelings on
the subject – they're very similar to my own.
Growing up, some of my classmates wanted to be firefighters, or doctors,
or baseball players. I wanted to be a
zookeeper. Unlike the vast majority of
people that I went to school with, my childhood wish came true.
I often wind up having this conversation with
people, either guests on zoo grounds or casual acquaintances to whom I am
introduced. When you tell someone that
you are an accountant or a cashier no one asks for a lengthy explanation as to
how and why you wound up in that profession.
Zookeeping is slightly different.
Some of the guests who I encounter ask me if this is
my summer job (even in winter), or if I'm still in school. Others ask if I'm studying to be a vet. I sometimes feel that my answers fail to satisfy
them: that they don't understand how anyone with a college degree would
actively aspire to work in a job in which the daily routine largely consists of
a shovel, a pile of fecal matter, and the application of the one to the other. A job which is known for its low
pay, unforgiving schedule (animals don’t care if it’s Christmas morning), and
sometimes brutal working conditions…
Other people have more romantic visions of the
job. They think that it's a life of
danger, every day narrowly escaping death at the claws of a big cat, the jaws
of an alligator, or the fangs of a snake.
Others see me as some sort of bargain-basement Dr. Doolittle, with a
monkey perched on one shoulder and a parrot on the other, spending my days
playing with animal friends. While
there have been moments in my career where my life has been in danger, these
occurrences are very few and far between.
And while I truly do care for (dare I say love?) most of the animals
that I work with, I’ve never fooled myself into thinking that they all loved me
back.
I suppose I became a zookeeper, at least in the
beginning, because I’ve been fascinated with wild animals and wanted to make
them a part of my daily life. As the
years have passed, however, so my feelings have changed as well. I still love the animals and value every day
spent with them, but now the job means so much more to me. It’s a job unlike any other I could imagine –
physically, mentally, and, at times, emotionally challenging. It’s a chance to educate people about a part of
the world that they are losing touch with.
It’s a chance to take a stand for conservation and do my part to save
endangered species and their habitats.
It’s a chance to save a little bit of the magic that we still have left
in the world.
That’s what gets me out of bed and going to work
every morning. That’s what gives me the
drive to do the job and do it to the best of my abilities. That’s why I became a zookeeper.
That was wonderfully and impeccably written. As a fellow keeper, I've come across every instance you mentioned. The blank stares of my bachelor's degree helping me scoop poop or the belief I only play with the animals. People are amazed at the difficulty of zookeeping when I explain the details of my daily routine, my observations, my "few and far between" dangerous encounters. Thank you for this article.
ReplyDelete*stands up and applauds!*
ReplyDeleteAfter 46 years Zookeeper I dare to say that is completely true and I miss it every day
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