One hot summer day, I spent an enjoyable half-hour watching capybaras wallowing in the mud, whistling contentedly. In the background was the shuffling form of a giant anteater, lurching through the tall grasses as it made its way into the shade, brushing past a ball of red fur drowsing under a tree. As the anteater passed, the ball uncurled and raised its head, revealing itself to be a maned wolf. My attention was soon called back in front of me when a Brazilian tapir heaved itself into its pool, splashing water everywhere.
The scene could have been Brazil or Paraguay, but instead it was the Houston Zoo... and it was all in one, single exhibit.
The concept of displaying different kinds of animals in the same enclosure isn't a new one. It's been practiced for thousands of years, especially with birds; the concept of the mixed-species aviary was known to the ancient Romans. Among mammals, the practice has been especially common with deer, antelope, and other hoofed mammals. In reptile houses, it was historically common to keep all sorts of crocodilians in pits together. In recent years, however, the trend of displaying animals together has increased tremendously, with more and more zoos placing more and more species in mixed displays (in aquariums, this concept is so common that it's a small handful of species that aren't kept in mixed tanks), and zoos have vied to create newer, more exciting and unusual combinations each year.
These displays tend to be some of the most popular in zoos, and there is a lot of good that could be said about them. For one thing, they save space and keeper time, both resources in short supply at any given zoo. With individual zoo exhibits getting larger, and the zoos themselves not expanding, zoos find that they can feature fewer displays. By allowing two or more species to share a space, more use can be gotten out of one plot of land, which also takes less time for keepers to serve than two smaller exhibits. This is especially beneficial when displaying a terrestrial animal with an arboreal one, allowing different animals to utilize different parts of the same space.
Mixed-species exhibits are supposed to also bestow some benefits on the animals. Part of creating a more natural environment for zoo animals may mean adding other species. Animals in the wild do not exist in a single-species vacuum, and share their environment with countless other species. In East Africa, I was able to sometimes observe five or six species of large mammal at once without turning my head. Perhaps the presence of multiple species in the same area would feel more natural, more enriching to zoo animals? I've seen otters and monkeys playing together in one zoo exhibit, and have heard of many other cases. The space factor also can benefit zoo animals, especially smaller ones. At the Bronx Zoo, for instance, rock hyraxes share an immense yard with geladas and ibexes; the rabbit-sized hyraxes, as a result, have a much larger, more complex habitat than they would probably have if they were displayed alone in a small mammal house.
Most of the benefit of mixed-exhibits, however, seems directed towards the visitors. Zoo visitors seem drawn to mixed exhibit, especially ones that are surprising or seem risky. Putting multiple species together increases the likelihood of their being some activity, some movement in the display for people to observe. This is especially true in displays were there are animals on the ground, in the water, in the trees, and flying - someone will likely be doing something. Zoo educators like to point out that displaying multiple species from the same habitat together provides a more educational experience for guests (though plenty of zoos do display animals together that would not overlap in the wild).
Well, there's some of the good points about mixed-species exhibits. This post is rapidly getting longer than I meant for it to, so we'll visit some of the downsides tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment