Swimming Lessons

Sometimes, you just need a cute animal video to get through the week ahead.  Check out this orphaned baby sea otter, learning how to swim at Chicago's Shedd Aquarium!

Satire: 12 Lessons From People Who Jumped the Fence at the Zoo

 "Only an idiot would jump into the bear cage at the zoo"

- Vuk Bojovic, Director of Belgrade Zoo

True. That being said, there are a lot of idiots out there.

Earlier this year, we shared the story of the boy who fell into the jaguar exhibit at the Little Rock Zoo - the child survived.  This, of course, calls to mind the African wild dog incident at the Pittsburgh Zoo... where the child did not survive.  Both of these children ended up in enclosure with dangerous animals by accident... but it's not uncommon for people to deliberately throw themselves into exhibits with zoo animals.  Here are some of their stories...

12 Lessons From People Who Jumped the Fence at the Zoo

Absolutely nothing good can come from being stuck in a cage with captive wild animal at a zoo – nothing.  And yet people seem to be constantly putting themselves in that very situation, coming in very close proximity to lions, tigers, bears, and vicious monkeys.  Some of these people died in the cage with the animal, and others just suffered gruesome injuries.  These people obviously weren’t rocket scientists to have found themselves in this situation, but there has to be something to take away from some of the dumbest, most careless, and in some cases, drunkest people to ever consider something so risky.  So, here are 12 lessons from people who jumped the fence at the zoo.

Read the rest of the article here.

Holiday Orphans

Happy Thanksgiving!  
And good morning to those of you going to work today!

Zoo and aquarium work is 365 days a year (or at least the animal care aspect is... don't get me started on the office folks...).  Whether it's Thanksgiving, Christmas, or the day of your best friend's wedding, the animals still need to be cared for, and the keepers need to come to work (though hopefully if it is the day of the wedding, someone will at least cover for you).  No problem if you work near your home and family - just go in early, get the job done (most US zoos and aquariums are closed on Thanksgiving), pop home and shower, and then go to Thanksgiving dinner...

Less easy if you've had to move away for work, as many keepers do in order to break into the field.  Some spend the holidays alone and come home when they can.  Some have their families visit them.  And some make new families, celebrating with coworkers and friends in their new home.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of the holiday orphans, who are spending this day away from home.  Everyone who visits your facility appreciates the sacrifices you make to provide the animals with care, everyday!

PS:  Working the holidays isn't all bad!  Read Cat's insights on spending Thanksgiving as a marine mammal trainer here!

The Genius of Zookeeping

When making the rounds on Facebook today, I came across these photos, posted by the Alaska SeaLife Center.  They depict a wonderful new method that their keepers are using to monitor the feet of the puffins under their care.  Captive puffins need to be monitored frequently for signs of bumblefoot - infection of the feet - but capturing and handling birds for examinations can be stressful for them.  Hence this beauty - a glass box with a mirror at the bottom.  The birds step up on the box, and the soles of their feet are reflected in the mirror for keepers to observe, all without touching the birds...

Genius.

Occasionally, I've met visitors who are surprised by the amount of schooling zookeepers and aquarists require.  After all, don't we just shovel poop and make diets?  It turns out, brains are even more important than brawn in the field.  Part of it is schooling and book-learning, knowing as much as possible about the animals themselves - their anatomy, their behavior, their natural history, their nutritional needs.  A big part of it, however, has to do with the fact that zookeepers and aquarists are confronted, on a daily basis, with problems that no one else on earth has to deal with... often on a shoestring budget and with limited support.

As is seen with the puffins at Alaska, a lot of keeper ingenuity goes towards dealing with the day-to-day issues of animal care.  Other times, it goes towards training and enrichment, which has led to tremendous advances in both of those fields in recent years.  Why chase an animal around and risk injury to it (and you) when you can train it to enter a shipping crate and, in the case of some species, close the door behind itself?    How can an animal's behavior be directed in new, positive directions?  When keepers at the Phoenix Zoo, years ago, were confronted with Ruby, an African elephant who hated... well... everyone, they were initially at a loss.  Then they noticed that Ruby seemed to enjoy doodling in the dirt with a stick.  They outfitted her with elephant-sized paints and canvases and voila!  An artist was born, and Ruby became a much happier, better-adjusted animal.

Ingenuity also comes in handy during animal introductions, when injuries and accidents are most common.  Two examples that I've encountered?

Photos from Alaska SeaLife Center's Facebook page

• Two capybara are to be introduced, though both have displayed aggression towards each other during past introduction attempts.  The attempted solution?  Let each animal roll around in the fecal matter of the other, masking their scent.  Soon, they won't recognize each other.
• Two groups of spider monkeys are to be introduced.  At the exact moment of introduction, zoo staff place, outside the enclosure, a serval in a crate.  The monkeys are all so agitated by the appearance of   a predator that they don't notice the newcomers and unite in screaming and swearing at the cat (who, I must note, didn't seem too interested one way or another in the proceedings).

Problem solving skills are vital during captures and relocations, when escape is a likely outcome of failure.  In Gathering of Animals, Jeff Bridges tells the story of how keepers at the Bronx Zoo tried and failed to capture Silver King, a notoriously foul-tempered polar bear.  Finally, they used living bait - a playful young walrus wiggling safely out of reach so excited the bear that he ran head-long into his capture crate.  I once used a similar ploy on a condor with an egg fixation, getting him to follow me down a hallway by dangling a rhea egg in front of him.  We could have netted him, breaking his flight feathers and getting me bitten badly, but instead he followed like a lamb.  The bite came later.

Zookeepers are perpetually forced to think outside of the box by the unique situations that their jobs produce.  Sure, there is lots of protocol and training and workshop meetings these days, and antics like running a walrus through your polar bear exhibit are no longer considered practical.  Still, animals are unpredictable and prone to unusual, unexpected behaviors.  We need keepers who can, when the occasion arises, act the same way.

Sporcle Quiz: Animals Named After Animals

Animals Named After Animals

The alternate common name of the bowmouth guitarfish - the shark ray - is a reflection of the fact that it seems to have traits of both sharks and rays.  It seems that a lot of time, we name animals after other animals, likening them to something more familiar.  For example, the binturong is sometimes called "bear cat", even though it is not especially related to cats or bears.

These names often reflect a physical trait of the animal - Does it have horns?  Call it a "Rhinoceros ______".  Does it have stripes?  Call it a "Tiger _____."  There are lots of examples that I could think of for animals that are named after other animals.  Some of them are featured in this new Sporcle quiz.  Enjoy!

PS: Animals from Avatar: The Last Airbender not included...

Species Fact Profile: Shark Ray (Rhina ancylostoma)

Shark Ray (Bowmouth Guitarfish)

Rhina ancylostoma (Bloch & J.G. Schneider, 1801)

Range: Indian Ocean, Western Pacific ocean
Habitat: Shallow seas with sandy or muddy bottoms, Coral Reefs, Mangroves
Diet: Crustaceans, Mollusks
Social Grouping: Solitary
Reproduction: Fertilized eggs are retained within the female's body, usually 4-5 pups (range 2-11) are born live when they are expelled from the female's uterus, offspring are independent immediately after birth; females are sexually mature at 1.5-1.8 meters, males at 1.8 meters
Lifespan: 7 Years (Captivity)
Conservation Status: IUCN Vulnerable

• Shark rays can grow to 2.9 meters in length and weigh up to 135 kilograms; females often grow larger than males
• Named for their supposed intermediary appearance between sharks and rays, shark rays are a cartilaginous fish with broad, blunt heads, large flat pectoral fins, two dorsal fins (the front larger than the back), and a relatively slender tail
• Coloration changes with age; the young are brown with pale spots and black bars, whereas adults are grey with small white spots and no bars; all ages are pale on their underside
• The eyes of a shark ray are found on top of the head, and prey is largely found by smell; prey animals are pinned to the sea floor with the large head and eased into the moth, which is full of large flat teeth
• Known to be preyed upon by tiger sharks; the thorn-like protrusions on the head and back of the shark ray are possible defenses against predators
• While not considered an especially desirable food fish, shark rays are caught as bycatch by commercial fisheries.  They are also sought for their very large pectoral fins, used to make "shark fin soup", a delicacy in traditional Chinese culture.  Dynamite fishing and loss of coral reefs are also contributing the the decline of the species
• Rarely displayed in captivity, and only very recently in the Americas; the first captive breeding of this species took place at the Newport Aquarium in 2014, though none of the pups survived

Book Review: Gathering of Animals

By the time William Bridges joined the staff of the New York Zoological Society, often known as "the Bronx Zoo", in 1935, the zoo had already been open to the public for 37 years. Long enough for the park to become established and mature, young enough that many of the society's early luminaries - Raymond Ditmars, William Beebe, Lee Crandall - were still active.  This makes him wonderfully well-suited to write the biography of the institution.  In Gathering of Animals: An Unconventional History of the New York Zoological Society, Bridges, the Society's Curator of Publications, details the first seventy-five years of the history of one of the most extraordinary zoos on earth.

Bridges' story starts with New York in the late 1800's, home to a series of small, decrepit menageries, but lacking a true, scientific zoological park, as Philadelphia and Washington, DC could boast.  This changed when a series of the city's elite joined together to form a zoo.  A site was found in Bronx Park, and a leader was found in the famous conservationist William T. Hornaday, the taxidermist who had largely been responsible for the establishment of the Smithsonian's National Zoo.  A large part of the motivation for creating the zoo, for the Board of Directors as well as Hornaday, was to save North America's most iconic land mammal - the American bison.

The early years of the modern zoo were full of toil, trial, and tribulation, and Bridges details all of these in great detail.  There are sagas of births, deaths, escapes, and the challenges of trying to take care of a collection of animals that no one on earth (except for a tiny handful of other zoos of the age) had every tried to care for before.   Almost every anecdote is usually spiced with the querelous commentary of Hornaday, a prolific letter-writer with an opinion on everything.Some are amusing, like using a walrus pup to assist in moving an ornery polar bear.  Others are disastrous, such as the pestilence that wiped out the zoo's ape collection.  Some seem wrong, like the methods used to "discipline" recalcitrant elephants.  And some, such as the saga of Ota Benga, just seem bizarre.   True, while many of these challenges can seem exasperating and bone-headed to the modern zoo professional, but it's important to remember that hindsight is 20/20, and much of what we now accept as basic knowledge of exotic animal husbandry was learned, trial and error, at institutions like the Bronx.

Portions of the book, scattered about, are devoted to the zoo's sister institution, the New York Aquarium.  These are especially interesting, as the public aquarium was a far newer institution than the zoo, with a far steeper learning curve.  It would have been fascinating to have had more details about the aquarium's history.  Had Bridges written his book later on, he would have seen the history of the Zoological Society expanded to include the annexation, renovation, and rebirth, of three other New York City zoos - Prospect Park, Queens, and Central Park (the history of the later described in some depth in Peter Brazitis' You Belong In a Zoo!).  In many ways, the most frustrating part of Bridges' story is that it ends too soon... like writing the biography of a person, but ending at age thirty, right when they have achieved some stability in life but are still in their prime.  So much as happened to the Society in recent years, not least of all the reinvention of itself as the Wildlife Conservation Society, with active field work, research, and conservation projects across the globe, a future which is only hinted at towards the end of Bridges' book.

I've worked for several zoos thus far in my career, some of which have been fairly young (as in, founded within my lifetime).  I've always wondered what it would be like to work at a facility that was older than my great-grandparents... and Institution (capitalized, you'll note), with a History (also capitalized).  William Bridges wrote a fine history of the New York Zoological Society.  Somebody else needs to write a sequel about the next seventy-five years...

Gathering of Animals: An Unconventional History of the New York Zoological Society, at Amazon.com

An Oryx Sequel

Scimitar Horned Oryx is Back!

One of the earliest triumphs of modern zoo biology has been the rescue of the Arabian oryx.  From the tiny nucleus of nine animals that formed the world herd at the Phoenix Zoo*, sufficient animals were bred in captivity to allow the reestablishment of wild populations throughout the Middle East.

History is being repeated... only this time, with the even more endangered scimitar-horned oryx.  While reasonably common in zoos, game parks, and private collections around the world, the scimitar-horned oryx has been driven to extinction in its native North Africa by hunting, competition for resources, and desertification.  Zoo professionals and biologists from four continents have collaborated to send 100 captive-bred oryx back to Chad, where they will form the first attempt to reintroduce this beautiful desert-dweller back into the wild.  If successful, these will be the first wild members of their species in 15 years.

The best of luck to those animals which are given the chance to reclaim the homeland of their species... and congratulations to all those involved who have worked tirelessly to make this possible.  Amid the doom and gloom that so often characterizes conservation efforts today, it's always wonderful and inspiring when we see a species take one step back from the edge of extinction.

Zoo History: Cheetah Coursing

“Shaitan was a good-looking young cheetah with a very affectionate way about him: indeed, he was more like a great dog than a cat.  When we was still he looked a gawky beast, but potentially beautiful; it was only when he got into action that one realised his surpassing perfection: all his clumsiness disappeared: his legs, which, when he was still, seemed too long for his slender body, were hardly visible when he was at the height of his speed.  During the brief space of his utmost endeavour, there was nothing of four legs that Shaitan could not catch.”

                       

~ Patrick O’Brian, Hussein: an Entertainment 

Hunting, for sustenance or for sport, is perhaps the oldest category of human-animal interactions.  It predates every human society and has been known in virtually all cultures and in all classes.  Whereas peasants often hunted on a small scale, setting snares and taking a little meat for their table whenever they could, the most powerful and prestigious members of society often organized elaborate, massive hunts in search of big game.  Hunting came to signify more than a means of acquiring protein for one’s family; it became an exhibition of man’s dominion over the natural world.  Man eventually began to further this dominion when he domesticated the first animal – the wolf – and incorporated it into the hunt as his new partner, the domestic dog.  Over the centuries, he came to make use of several other animals as hunting partners, including falcons, hawks, and ferrets.  Of all these hunting partners, the most valuable, the most prized, and the most surprising was the cheetah.

It is uncertain as to exactly when and where the practice of cheetah coursing (the name given to the use of trained cheetahs for the hunt) began; what is certain is that humans have been taming the spotted, speedy cats for thousands of years. Unlike dogs or cats, cheetahs underwent no physiological change as a result of being kept in captivity (virtually all coursing cheetahs were wild caught), so historical records and artistic representations are all that scholars have to pinpoint the origin of coursing. 

Images of a collared individual, apparently being brought as tribute to the pharaoh, appear on an Egyptian tomb from 1450 BC, while in the Caucasus, a silver vase found in a burial mound dating back to 2300 BC depicts collared cheetahs.  The Egyptians were famous for their penchant for keeping and taming wild animals, having experimented with the domestication of gazelles, hyenas, and other wild animals, so there is some basis to the theory that Egypt was the point of origin for cheetah coursing.  Some authorities believe that it arose in Arabia, where cheetah coursing and falconry were considered essential methods of capturing prey in the desert. Other scholars believe that cheetah coursing has its origins in Persia and that the Arabs only became familiar with it after their conquests took them into modern-day Iran.  There are records in Persian royal poetry of kings hunting with cheetahs as early as 400 AD; it is known that the sport was clearly established in Persia by 650 AD.  Seventh century tomb murals in China depict hunting with both cheetahs and caracals; the sport was later taken up by the Mongol conquerors. At any rate, the geographic locale most often associated with cheetah coursing is India.  

Most people, including several naturalists and other wildlife experts, consider the cheetah an exclusively African species, and it is true that the speedy cats are now found almost solely on the African continent.  Within historic times, however, there was also an Asiatic population, extending through Persia and India.  Today, all that is left of Asia’s cheetahs is a remnant population of 60-70 individuals dozens in Iran, compared to the thousands left in Africa.  This small population continues to suffer from habitat loss, depleted prey base, and persecution, and it remains uncertain as to how much longer it will survive.

Coursing cheetahs were also present in Europe, though not to the degree that they were in Asia.  The first animals began arriving in the thirteenth century in the courts of Europe, from Russia to England.  Virtually every noble household in Renaissance Italy and France had its own coursing cheetahs, while the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II, an accomplished and expert falconer, had cheetahs marching in his wedding parade.  Charlemagne, William the Conquerer are other famous monarchs known to have practiced the sport.  Paintings and drawings of trained cheetahs, often depicted as collared and riding behind their masters on horseback, were produced throughout the Middle Ages and into the Renaissance.  “A cheetah trained for the hunt,” along with an Indian elephant and the customary gold and jewels, was among the gifts sent to Leo X to celebrate his coronation as Pope.  In 1764, a full 12 years before the cheetah was first formally described by western science, England’s Duke of Cumberland imported two “tigers” (based on paintings and descriptions, they were certainly cheetahs) from India for coursing, an event that was memorialized in George Stubbs’ painting A Cheetah with Two Indians.  Three cheetahs (and their six keepers) were gifted to the English King George III by the Tippoo Sultan in 1799.  Though popular and exotic, cheetahs were never considered to be an especially important component of the royal hunt in Europe, and were regarded more as curiosities and status symbols than hunting partners.  

This demand for cheetahs became a large drain on the wild population.  So many animals were captured and removed from the gene pool (virtually none of whom would ever mate again) that it doubtlessly had an effect on the wild population.  The hunters, then, were removing adult cheetahs from the wild before they were capable of breeding, preventing cubs from being born in the wild and thereby replenishing the population.  Trapping was indiscriminate, with no regard for age and sex; the use of pits, however, trapping animals prior to the breeding season, suggests that animals that were in their reproductive prime were most likely to be caught.   The removal of females from the wild was doubtlessly also detrimental to the population.  Later during the year, after cubs were born, females would range for food, returning after a hunt to their dens in order to nurse their cubs.  If a female was trapped while out hunting one day, she would never return to her den and her cubs would starve.  If cubs were found by humans, they were often abandoned, being seen of little value for hunting; it seems unlikely that many (if any) of these cubs, deprived of their mothers’ care, were able to survive to adulthood

Many cheetahs were also removed from the wild to provide diplomatic gifts – several were exported to China, Mongolia, and even Western Europe, either for use in coursing (as was the case with the Duke of Cumberland) or for exhibition in royal menageries.  The trapping of India’s cheetahs remained at high levels into the twentieth century until there were none left.

By the end of the nineteenth century, the scarcity of Asiatic cheetahs was making itself felt in the courts of the Indian nobility.  Eventually, the remaining practitioners of the sport of coursing began to import cheetahs from Africa.  The importation of African animals was not only a sign of the drastic decline of the species in Asia, it also led to the belief – firmly entrenched in some naturalists – that the cheetah was never, in fact, native to Asia, and that all cheetahs used over the last several centuries had been imported from Africa. 

In modern times, someone will occasionally bring up the idea of reintroducing cheetahs back to India, using individuals from the Iranian population; similar plans have been proposed for using some of India’s few remaining Asian lions to reestablish a population in Iran.  No definitive plans have been announced, and considering the geopolitical tension that has surrounded Iran for the last several decades, it seems unlikely that any will be coming in the near future.  As for cheetah coursing, it seems, like the Asiatic cheetah itself, to have largely gone extinct.

From the News: Florida Aquarium leaders visit Cuba

Florida Aquarium leaders visit Cuba

Of all the factors that play into wildlife conservation, on that cannot be understated is politics.  Countries increasingly cooperate on conservation programs, and those programs can be thwarted when relationships between those countries sour (efforts to protect big cats in Southwest Asia have been long put on hold due to enmity between the US and Iran).  In other cases, poor relationships between countries are good for nature - evidence the flourishing wildlife living in the Demilitarized Zone of the Korean Peninsula.

The US embargo of Cuba has, whatever one may think of it for political reasons, probably done some good for Cuba's coral reefs by reducing the number of beachfront resorts which cover so much of the Caribbean.  The chance to study those reefs - so close to US shores - and collaborate on shared marine conservation issues is an opportunity US institutions should jump on.

The establishment of a partnership between Florida Aquarium and the National Aquarium of Cuba would be a great example of science and conservation transcending political differences to the benefit of all parties.  Whatever one's political beliefs, clean water, healthy reefs, and restored wildlife should be good news for anyone.  

Leaders of Tampa's Florida Aquarium visited Cuba over the weekend to discuss a possible partnership on reef restoration research. TRIBUNE FILE PHOTO

The Social Network

I made a new friend at a training course I attended earlier this year.  At the end of the week, we were sitting together during a break, and I was flipping through my camera, showing her some of the pictures I'd taken during the course, some of which she was in.  When she asked me to send those to her, I mentioned that I'd be putting them up on Facebook when I got the chance.  That didn't help her any, it turns out... she's not on Facebook - the possibility of which hadn't entered my mind for a moment.

I was in college when Facebook made the scene, and for the first few years, it stayed there - in college.  Now it's open to everyone, anywhere, and has been joined by Twitter, Tumblr, YouTube, and a profusion of blogging, along with other social media.  Political campaigns are waged over Facebook, and virtually every business and company uses social media - some companies may have employees with the sole job of maintaining their social media presence.

Zoos and aquariums have proven no exception.  I remember when zoos didn't even have websites... then, when they developed their first, really, really bad websites.  Embracing social media came swiftly enough, and now zoos and aquariums use it to engage their visitors, as well as audiences around the world.  Social media makes the experience more interactive for guests.  Vote in our naming contest!  Share pictures or videos of your family and friends at the zoo (but not illegal pictures)!  Write a review of your visit!  Give a caption to this photo!  All efforts to get people talking about their experience and build up interest in the community.

Of course, zoo and aquarium visitors aren't the only folks on social media... so are many employees... and here's where social media can start causing problems.  Zookeepers tend to be fairly young, so it's not surprising that many have embraced social media.  And, like many young people (and plenty of older ones), they sometimes put up stuff that they shouldn't.  Photos are particularly problematic - they can show behind-the-scenes areas, which, let's be honest, often look somewhat ratty.  They can show things that can be taken out of context (i.e.: an animal that is sedated for a medical procedure, but looks dead).  They can create the false impression that the animals are "pets" or "babies", or depict unsafe actions which may encourage non-animal-professionals to do unsafe things.  It's not surprising that many zoos and aquariums have strict policies on the use of cameras behind-the-scenes by staff.

I confess, I'm that annoying paparazzi guy at our zoo who pulls out a camera at the drop of a hat... but none of my behind-the-scenes pics go up here (let alone on my personal Facebook page, where they could come back to haunt me).

Perhaps my favorite aspect of Facebook and social media is the sense of community that it has created.  Zookeepers around the world are now linked together in online groups, closed to animal care professionals, such as "ZooKreepers", "You Know You're a Zookeeper When", and other, more specialized groups (cat keepers, parrot keepers, etc).  A lot of great ideas and bits of advice come from these sites and keepers ask questions and share ideas.  A lot of laughs also get shared as pictures and stories make their rounds.  We tell stories of birth and deaths and escapes, and yes, dear visitors, we do talk about you (and our bosses...)

Of course, a lot of fights also pop up on here, as animal care folks tend to be some of the most cantankerous, self-righteous, hyper-critical people on the net.  Private sector versus public!  Circuses versus zoos versus sanctuaries!  Pro-Seaworld vs Anti-Seaworld!  And don't even get me started on the fiasco we had with the Copenhagen giraffe this last winter.

In these forums, things sometimes get heated, and people say things they shouldn't... especially about people they work with (forget the NSA, on Facebook, everyone is watching you!).  Some folks have gotten in trouble - sometimes deep trouble - at work for what they post online, thinking that they are anonymous.  It's good that we have a forum where we can - with relative privacy - discuss our business, but on the internet, any privacy is just that... relative.

I had early disdain for Facebook, but have, over the years, become addicted to it (though I still resist Twitter and the other heads of the social media hydra).  It can be a great tool for sharing stories and ideas with the rest of the world, as well as for gaining new ideas and insights ourselves.  But, like any tool, there is a proper and an improper, a safe and a dangerous, way to use it.  Be aware of that.

Zoo Review: Newport Aquarium

Compared to zoos, public aquariums tend to be rather new institutions; while many American zoos are over a century old, many of the nation's greatest aquariums have opened up in the last thirty years or so.  Among these is the Newport Aquarium, located across the Ohio River from Cincinnati, Ohio.  Compared to many aquariums, the collection is very... fish-focused.  There are no marine mammals - no mammals at all, actually, at the time I visited - and the bird collection is limited to penguins.  Here, the fish are the stars.

It would perhaps not be a mistake to say that the reputation of the facility rests on the back of one fish - the bowmouth guitarfish, also known as the shark ray.  The Newport Aquarium was the first in America to display this unique species, and still has the largest number of the fish in this country; at the beginning of this year, it also celebrated the first captive breeding of the species, though unfortunately none of the pups survived.  The four shark rays share their massive home with several other sharks - sand tigers, nurses, black- and white-tip reefs - as well as rays, groupers, and a massive loggerhead turtle, among other sea creatures.  This enormous habitat can be viewed from several vantage points, including  the spectacular Shark Ray Theater, where feeding demonstrations take place behind, from above, and from an incredible tunnel which passes through the exhibit, allowing sharks to swim above, around, and even below the feet of delighted aquarium visitors.

Shark rays are only one of the extraordinary aquatic creatures displayed at Newport.  Other exhibits include the Pacific giant octopus, the Japanese spider crab, and a psychedelic jellyfish gallery, where different species of jellies and nettles drift behind gilt frames and beneath eerie lighting.  A separate gallery takes visitors through the rivers of the world, taking guests on a tour of aquatic habitats from the Rio Negro and the Congo to the waterways of northern Kentucky.  The planners of the aquarium apparently had a special fondness for tunnels - in addition to the main shark ray exhibit, there are also tunnels through a coral reef, a Pacific coastline, and an Amazon river forest, where arapaima, pacu, and catfish swim through flooded temple ruins.  

Not all of the creatures on display at Newport are fish and marine invertebrates.  Special galleries also highlighted frogs, turtles and tortoises, and crocodilians; the later was home, at the time of my visit, to "Mighty Mike", a fifteen-foot long American alligator, as well as a pair of white alligators and the juvenile forms of many other crocodilians.  The final exhibit most visitors see (besides a last look at the shark ray exhibit) is the penguin habitat, where five species of Antarctic/sub-Antarctic penguins splash and dive in front of guests.

What impressed me the most about Newport Aquarium was the interactive nature.  Everywhere I looked, guests were actively engaged with staff and volunteers.  There were two touch tank areas - one featuring traditional touch tank species (sea stars, snails, etc), another with small sharks.  There was also a tortoise encounter area.  It was a relatively slow day when I visited, so a small flock of African penguins was taken for a stroll down the halls of the aquarium; visitors also have the option of booking private encounters with the aquarium's penguin ambassadors.  Signage was interactive, with lots of video clips and rotating signage.  There were several feeding demonstrations and keeper talks throughout the day, giving guests plenty of chances to meet with staff.  Volunteers seemed to be everywhere.  The frog area was especially noteworthy for its interactive nature - kids (and adults) could play Frogger, listen to recorded frog calls, or climb through a frog-themed jungle gym.

If I had one complaint about Newport, it would be that at times the fun, interactive nature got to be... too much.  Whenever I tried finding a quiet time to sit and watch the penguins, it seemed like yet another pep-rally-style penguin talk was starting.  My time spent watching the shark rays in Shark Ray Theater was limited by how long I could put up with the constantly looping educational video, which was very geared towards kids.  It could see it all being great for energizing and engaging young visitors, but for someone who just wanted to observe animals, it could be a bit overwhelming and exasperating.

I've never considered myself much of an aquatics person, and when I visit an aquarium I tend to gravitate towards the birds, the mammals, and the reptiles and amphibians.  My visit to Newport Aquarium, however, left me with increased interest in the life aquatic... and how great an aquarium can be if it concentrates on being an aquarium.

Newport Aquarium

Eaten by an Anaconda

I was just a kid when the movie Anaconda came out.  At the time it was pretty scary and exciting - watching it now, I doubt that I could make it through it with a straight face.  There's a scene towards the end where the monster snake swallows Jon Voight, then vomits him out onto Jennifer Lopez.  As the slime-coated bad guy lands against her, he glances up and winks.

I can't help but wonder if this scene was the inspiration for Discovery Channel's latest idiocy.

Coming fresh off the heels of pseudo-scientific Shark Week, the DC now presents "Eaten by an Anaconda", in which some jackass in a special suit will get himself swallowed by an anaconda and then emerge, alive, supposedly without harming the snake.  For one thing, I wonder how they actually found an anaconda big enough to swallow an adult human.  Then, I want to know how they thought this wouldn't harm the snake even a little.  Lastly, I want to know how Discovery Channel thought this would be a good idea to show, and what happened to a channel that used to do so much for educating and inspiring our minds.

From the News: L.A. Zoo's new hippo calf surprises staff; mother was on birth control

L.A. Zoo's new hippo calf surprises staff; mother was on birth control

One of the biggest challenges zoos face is the establishment of sustainable captive populations.  A lot of planning and care go into these breeding programs.  Too little reproduction results in a loss of genetic diversity, a decreasing population size, and eventually loss of the populations.  Too much reproduction and you are faced with a surplus of animals you need to take care of, which can hamper your other breeding programs and sap your resources (it is this problem that led to the euthanasia debacle in Europe earlier this year).

To help prevent this from happening, there has been tremendous work done in the field of zoo animal contraceptives.  It's a relatively new science, however, and sometimes it works too well... or, as in this case, not well enough...

Even if she was unintended, I hope that LA is thrilled with their new baby (relatively few zoos are working with hippos these days) and that all goes well with their little (well, big, actually) oopsie...


The hippo calf nuzzles with its mother, Mara, at a media event at the L.A. Zoo on Tuesday. (Mark Boster / Los Angeles Times)

Species Fact Profile: Kihansi Spray Toad (Nectophrynoides asperginis)

Kihansi Spray Toad

Nectophrynoides asperginis (Poynton, Howell, Clarke, Lovett, 199)

Range: Kihansi River Gorge (Udzungwa Mountains, Eastern Tanzania)
Habitat: Waterfall Gorge Meadows
Diet: Small Insects
Social Grouping: Unknown
Reproduction: Sexually mature at nine months of age, breed through internal fertilization; female gives birth to live toadlets (no tadpole stage), clutch size usually 5-13 offspring, sometimes as many as 28
Lifespan: 3 Years (Captivity)
Conservation Status: IUCN Extinct in the Wild, CITES Appendix I

• Both sexes look alike, with yellow-gold skin speckled with yellow or brown markings on translucent white underparts (some individuals have alternating bands of dark and light on the sides)
• Adult length 1-2 centimeters and weight 0.3-0.66 grams (females are slightly larger than males)
• Special flaps over the nostrils can be closed, an adaptation to their waterfall habitat
• Captives have been observed feigning death or voiding their bladders when disturbed
• The species was driven to extinction in the wild by the construction of the Lower Kihansi Hydropower Dam, which dried out the habitat; chytrid fungus was also introduced by construction workers; the species was declared Extinct in the Wild in 2009, ten years after it was first described
• In 2012, 2500 toads, captive bred in US zoos (Toledo and Bronx), were reintroduced into the wild; their habitat was recreated using a series of specially designed misters to replicate the waterfalls
• At the time of its discovery, the known species range was 2 hectares

Let "Dead" Dogs Lie...

The most popular original post on this blog thus far (as in, one I've written, not a guest article) has been my "Ten Things I Never Want to Hear from Zoo Visitors Again."  Looking back on it now, I realized, that maybe I should have added a number 11...

The other day, I was happily tidying up my area - in an off-exhibit area, but still highly visible to the public - when a rather irate gentlemen came up and hollered at me that one of the animals was dead.  This was during a pretty busy day, mind you, and when he called that out, crowds stopped and turned.  So did I.

Now, the animal in question happened to be a rather geriatric one, so old that it was, at least conceivable, that she could have decided to just plop down and die.  That being said, I'd only fed her about an hour ago, plus she was ("is", I should still say) a champion nap-taker, so I had a pretty good idea that she was still among the living.  That being said, I immediately put down my shovel and rake and went to check, the complainer in tow (along with a crowd of curious onlookers).

The walk to the exhibit was short, but it proved enough time for my new best buddy to berate me, the rest of the staff, and the zoo in general about our animal care.  

How could you not have noticed that this poor animal was dead?  I'm pretty sure she isn't, sir.

If you take these animals out of their natural habitat, you've got to at least care for them right.  She was born in captivity, sir, part of a managed breeding program.  Oh, and as for taking care of her, she's more than twice as old as they usually live in the wild, sir.

Well, we got to the exhibit soon enough, but by then this old crank had been badgering me for so long that I really began to half suspect I was going to find the animal dead.  When I got there, I'm ashamed to say, my first thought was, Yep, she's dead.  She was stretched out in the sun, eyes open and unblinking, tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth.  I called her name, softly.  No response.  I hopped the fence (keepers only!) and approached the front of the exhibit.  I was now close enough to see that she was, in fact, breathing.  I called again.  This time, she lifted her head, looked at me, and blinked.  Why are you waking me up when it's not even feeding time, jerk?, her face seemed to say.

When I turned around, the crowd was dispersing.  The "discoverer" of the dead animal was already gone.

So much of what we see of wild animals is on TV and the internet, where the action scenes - the hunts, the fights, the chases, the matings - are emphasized, we tend to forget that animals tend to spend a lot of their day doing not much at all.  We seldom see animals in the wild at rest - usually, their sharpened scenes detect our presence long before we see them, so they are alert and wary when we finally lay eyes on them.  Zoo animals, however, accustomed to the presence of people, let their guards down.  They sleep in front of us... sometimes, very soundly.  Sometimes, very very soundly... 

If you see a zoo animal that is just lying there, there is probably no need to be concerned... even if the position seems somewhat... suggestive of death.  The animals are checked often by their keepers, both at feeding/cleaning time and throughout the day.  If you do see an animal that looks like it might not be OK, go ahead and ask a keeper (the keyword being "ask", not "angrily accost and accuse of not caring about their animals").  DO NOT feel the need to "check on" the animal by banging the glass, throwing stuff, or other attempts to make it move.  

After all, I know if I was sleeping soundly, I wouldn't appreciate it if people kept interrupting my naps.

"That's right, two dead polar bears, nothing to see here, so keep on going, no noises necessary.."

PS:  The step-brother of this "Thing I Never Want to Hear Again" is "Is it real?"  This is especially directed towards reptile and amphibian keepers, as well as invertebrate keepers and sometimes aquarists (though I once had a kid who was convinced the kangaroos were fake... as they were hopping).  

True, sometimes zoos and aquariums will use models of animals as educational props - Newport Aquarium, for instance, is decorated with life-sized models of manta rays, oarfish, and other marine creatures that it does not exhibit.  If it's in a display area with an exhibit label, assume it's real.

Zoo Joke: Gorilla Suit

A zoo director knows that his facility is in dire financial straits, and that without something spectacular - some new attraction - he's going to go under.  The problem is that he doesn't have the money to buy any new animals.  So, in a fit of genius inspiration, he approaches one of his keepers one day and makes him an offer - a 20% raise, if, instead of working as a keeper, he will don a gorilla suit and act like a gorilla on exhibit.

The keeper accepts the offer and becomes a huge hit.  In fact, he absolutely loves playing to the crowds, beating his chest and playing on the tire swing.  Pretty soon, he gets so into his act that he climbs to the top of the tallest tree in the exhibit and starts jumping around like mad.

Suddenly, the branch that he was standing in snaps off and he falls.  By bad luck, that branch happened to be overhanging the tiger exhibit next door.

Dazed, afraid, but unhurt, the keeper in the gorilla suit sits up... and sees the tiger running towards him.

"Help!  Help!" he screams, when suddenly the tiger pounces on him... and whispers in his ear.

"Will you please shut up?" says the voice in his year (one that sounds suspiciously like an old keeper he hadn't seen for a few weeks), "You're going to get us both fired!"