Just Browsing

I'm not a great joke teller.  I try, but then I usually get embarrassed midway through at the cheesiness of the joke and rush my way through.  Also, I sometimes try for something too esoteric and it misses the mark with my crowd.  Take this one, for instance...

A giraffe walks into a bookstore.  It spends several minutes poking its face into the topmost shelves before a clerk finally walks up and asks, "Need help finding anything?"  "No, thanks," the giraffe replies.  "I'm just browsing."

It's a zookeeper pun - "browsing" is the act of foraging for leaves, as opposed to "grazing," the act of eating grass.  Giraffes and okapis are browsers.  Moose are browsers.  Sumatran rhinoceroses are browsers.  Zebras and wildebeest and bison are grazers.

In the wild, browsing mammals spend a whole lot of time, well, browsing, so it's not surprising that in a zoo setting, we would want to replicate that behavior.  The problem is that herbivores have huge appetites, and even in a relatively large enclosure, it won't take too long for most plant-eaters to gobble up every scrap of edible greens.  The task then falls to us, the keepers, to find fresh foliage and harvest it for the animals.  These leafy treats are called "browse" by the animal care staff.

For some keepers, the hunt for browse is one of the most time-consuming chores of the week, with eyes always peeled for freshly downed branches, especially after a storm or when tree trimming is being done (the larger branches are also sought after eagerly by bird and primate keepers, who wish to use them for perching). 

Few keepers feel the demand as intensely as those who care for giant pandas - bamboo is just another flavor of browse, though in this case it happens to be the only flavor that the animals in question prefer.  The US zoos that maintain giant pandas have staff members - either keepers, nutritionists, or horticulturalists - who basically just spend their days harvesting bamboo.  Sure, you could give the pandas a pan full of biscuits with some cut produce, the same as you would an Andean bear or an American black bear, and it would probably be fine, nutritionally.  A goal of the zoo, however, is to replicate natural behavior as much as possible, and for pandas a big part of that consists of sitting on your butt and eating all of the bamboo within arm's reach, methodically plodding your way through it.  Well, not "all of the bamboo" - pandas are obnoxiously selective, and a lot of that tediously collected bamboo ends up being shunned and tossed.

Elephants are another high-maintenance browser, though they tend to be less selective.  For them, it's more a question of bulk - we're talking whole trees here, not a few leafy cuttings.  Eating these trees is great physical and mental exercise - the lifting of the trunks, the manipulation of the objects, the discernment between what you do and don't want to eat, and in what order.  It can keep the animals entertained and occupied for hours, which is the point... well, that and the nutritional benefit.

In the keeper offices of almost any zoo, you'll find a list of approved browse posted somewhere, meant to help keepers determine what is and what isn't safe for their charges to eat.  This requires at least some knowledge of tree identification, which a lot of keepers tend not to have the patience for.  As a result, many will feed out a handful of species which they know and can identify readily in their area, such as mulberry and willow.

It's a pity that browse is such a pain to find and collect in sustainable quantities, because the benefits for the animals are great.  For some species it's a great occasional treat.  For others, like our beavers, I wish I could give it twice daily.  Browse promotes good nutrition, natural behavior, makes for interesting visitor experiences, and takes up a lot more of the animals' time than grain and hay does.  If my zoo had the space - and assuming I could be restrained from building more exhibits in it - I would love to create a browse orchard, full of trees that I could harvest to feed my hungry critters.

As that is not happening any time in the near future, I'll just keep my eyes peeled as I drive to and from work, especially after a storm.  You never know what leafy green surprises are waiting just around the corner.

Hyena Bathtime

Nothing to see here, just a spotted hyena taking a bubblebath at the Milwaukee County Zoo.

Lettuce Pray

I went to the grocery store after work today.  In a semi-successful attempt to eat healthier, I first swung by the produce section - where I immediately beheld a giant hole.  That hole (okay, more of an empty space, really) was the giant shelving unit that customarily held greens and bagged salads, most of which was made up of romaine.  With the recall of romaine spurred by fears of E. coli, it looked like salad was off the menu for the night.



No problem.  I was only lukewarm on my commitment to better eating that night.  I have other options.  I can think of a few animals that don't, however.

My diet notwithstanding, the lettuce recall has been a giant pain for feeding animals at my zoo.  After a lot of hemming and hawing, we ended up composting what we had and striking fresh romaine from our next produce order.  Instead, we ended up substituting as best as we could.  The thing is, lettuce (and at this time some authorities are saying to avoid all greens) is really the best substitute we have for leaves for folivorous (leaf-eating) mammals, from iguanas to colobus monkeys.

Of course, this is a nation-wide problem, so zoos across the nation are having to deal with it.  Some are gambling on non-romaine lettuces and greens.  Some are relying more on hay or browse.  And some are feeding extra of everything else and hoping that this moves along soon before any quirky dietary hiccups emerge. 

I, for one, am ready for this to be over, and so are my animals.  I never thought I'd miss the sight of a head of lettuce so much...

Topeka Zoo changes animal diets over romaine lettuce recall

Kansas City Zoo removes romaine lettuce from animal diets after recall

Lettuce recall impacts Nashville Zoo

Species Fact Profile: Giant Pacific Octopus (Enteroctopus doflenini)

Giant Pacific Octopus

Enteroctopus doflenini (Wulker, 1910)

Range: Northern Pacific Ocean
Habitat: Coral Reefs, Intertidal Zones
Diet: Crustaceans, Fish
Social Grouping: Solitary
Reproduction: Males deposit packets of sperm in female using specialized arm called the hectocotylus.  Up to 400,000 eggs, attached by female to hard surface and tended vigorously (protecting from predators, clearing off algae).  Hatchlings - each the size of a grain or rice - hatch 6 months later.  Female dies shortly after eggs hatch due to starvation (she does not feed while tending her eggs)..
Lifespan: 3-5 Years (Wild)
Conservation Status: Not Evaluated

• World's largest species of octopus.  Adults may have an arm span of 4.3 meters and weigh 15 kilograms, though some specimens have been recorded with an arm span of 6 meters and weighing 50 kilograms.  The size of the species is exaggerated in popular culture
• Only hard part of the body is the parrot-like beak.  This allows the octopus to squeeze its body into very small crevices
• Have the ability to change the color and texture of the skin by expanding and contracting pigment sacs in its skin, both for camouflage as well as for communication
• Have been documented capturing birds from above the water surface and pulling them under to feed upon
• Predators of adults include seals, sea otters, sperm whales, and sharks; juveniles and eggs have a wide variety of predators.
• Highly intelligent, display problem solving abilities (octopuses in aquariums frequently outwit puzzle feeders), spatial memories, and ability to recognize and respond differently to different human caretakers.
• Favor cooler water richer in oxygen due to copper-based blood; may become threatened if sea level temperatures rise, limiting their habitat
• Considered a popular food item in many parts of the world; currently uncertain how fishing is impacting their numbers

Zookeeper's Journal: An aquarist I once knew told me - only half joking - that it was a good thing that the giant Pacific octopus didn't have too long of a lifespan.  With its ability to learn, if it had several decades to accumulate knowledge it would probably take over the world.  The intelligence of this species is legendary  - one of my first memories of a zoo or aquarium was actually watching a large specimen patiently and methodically work its way through a puzzle feeder, undoing layer after layer of challenge to obtain a reward of shrimp inside (and this was in the days before enrichment became commonplace for most mammals, let alone invertebrates).  This intelligence (including spatial memory), combined with the ability to squeeze through even the tiniest of gaps and the ability to travel outside of the water for brief periods, makes the octopus an annoyingly effective escape artist.  I've heard more than one aquarist tell me about the time that they came in late one evening, only to find a guilty-looking octopus caught in the act of creeping towards another tank in search of a crustacean snack.

The Zookeeper in the Classroom

"We don't need no education,

We don't need no thought control.

No dark sarcasm in the classroom

Teachers leave them kids alone."

- Pink Floyd, Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2

I've increasingly been interested in the idea, shared by Dr. Terry Maple in his Professor in the Zoo, of working to make zoos more scientific, data-driven organizations.  I think that there is a lot to be said for the value of working more closely with academia, pursuing research, and publishing in journals, such as Zoo Biology and International Zoo Yearbook.  I feel like zoos and aquariums should invest in the education of their staffs, offering constant opportunities for professional development, encourage research, and, if possible, provide support for those pursuing higher education.

As far as I can tell, based on my experiences, there are two major hurdles to accomplishing these goals.  One, as always, is money.  The second is the zookeepers.

Over the years, I've noticed a strong undercurrent of anti-intellectualism running through some zookeeper circles.   It's a strong sentiment that "book learning" and "school smarts" is way, way overrated, and that it really just comes down to intuition and professional lore, passed down from keeper to keeper.   There is a feeling that a college degree is a dangerous waste of time that just traps you in debt without teaching you anything you need to know, but is still almost mandatory because so many candidates want so few jobs that employers can afford to add arbitrary requirements.

After working in the field for a few years, I decided to start working on my master's degree.  I still worked full time, but took classes on the side.  I was astonished at the derision - some of it tinged with hostility - I got from some of my coworkers.  In their eyes, it was a sign that I thought that I was better than them, that I thought that there were things to learn from a professor or a text book.

There are certainly justifications for these views.  What keeper or aquarist hasn't sat back in irritation while a curator or director - someone better paid, better educated - sits back in an office and makes decisions that the keeper disagrees with, decisions that they feel may be ill-informed, or not be in the best interests of the animal?  It's certainly true that there are relatively few college classes in exotic animal management - I considered myself lucky to go to a school that had one. 

However, most of what I do know about zoos and aquariums, I learned through the skills that I honed and developed while I was at college.  For me, it was an environment that didn't just teach facts, but taught me how to learn - how to ask the right questions, sift through the information, and find the right answers.  It wasn't so much the classroom lectures and labs that helped me grow as a zookeeper, but the emphasis on critical thinking, making connections, understanding complex ideas, and doing research beyond Google. 

I feel that a fear of elitism is only a small side-effect of the anti-intellectual bias in many zookeepers.  Really, I think it's fear of change.

Animal keepers have always been a highly intuitive group, protective of their charges and somewhat resistant to change.  Change, after all, can be bad, so why fix what isn't broken?  The answer is, just because something works, doesn't mean it can't work better.  Sometimes, we don't realize that things aren't working until we try something new.  The only way to develop new and better techniques for our animals is to open our minds up to learning, sharing, and critiquing new ideas.  There are endless forums for doing so - conferences, books, articles, and, yes, formal education.

It's time that we accept that higher education is important to our profession.  Not just as an end onto itself, but as a means towards providing better care for animals.

In the Gardens of Zoology

I love reading, and it's not uncommon for me to be working on two or three books simultaneously, putting one down for a few days before switching to another, or starting a new book while I'm traveling, then returning to a favorite once I'm back home.  Just this month, I was working my way between two non-fiction books, Dr. Terry Maple's Professor in the Zoo and The Zoo, a history of the founding of the London Zoo by Isobel Charman.  One dealt with the origins of the modern zoo, the other was a look at the future.  Both came down to one word: Science.

More specifically, both were focused on zoology, the science of animals.  The London Zoo was the brainchild of several Georgian-era zoologists, while Dr. Maple's book calls for a more science-driven approach to zoo animal management.

As I flitted between one book and the other, I walked across the grounds of my zoo and thought... not a lot of science going on here.  I'd like to change that.  Sure, we're an educational facility, with school groups and signage and keeper talks and all that, but looking both back into the past, as well as forward, I'm really left with the impression that we could be doing more.  Something that would bolster our scientific street-cred, something that would tell the public that we aren't just for little kids and elementary school field trips.  That we're something more.  

Some ideas that have popped into my head:

1) Rethinking the educational messages we share.  Too often, we put a sign in front of the animal, and that's it.  Sometimes, we don't even do the sign - my director is one of many who doesn't particularly care for signage, since he feels no one reads them and they just clutter the place up.  I think we need more signage and better signage, more graphic driven and, whenever possible, backed up with interactive devices, touchable features, and 3-D models.  The visitor shouldn't just see the animal - he or she should be learning a lot about it as well, with the twin messages of "Why is this animal awesome?" and "How can I help conserve it?"

2) Partner with natural history museums.  I didn't realize this, but the London Zoo originally had a natural history museum on grounds, to which Charles Darwin himself was a frequent visitor (it probably helped that the Zoo didn't have the best track record of keeping animals alive back then, so they were pretty much stuffed a few days after they arrived).  We should partner with scientific organizations in our communities.  In part, we can provide specimens to museums post mortem.  The museums can help us improve our exhibits and educational programs.  Together, we can highlight fieldwork and conservation, sharing messages to better resonate with our visitors

3) Partner with universities.  School groups shouldn't end with 5th graders.  We should partner with local universities, offering internships and research opportunities.  For example, students can do behavioral surveys of our animals - how are they interacting with each other, what are they doing with their time, etc - that keepers might not be able to do due to time constraints.  Students can research wild animal behavior and help us develop more species-specific enrichment. Zoo staff can do guest lectures in the classroom, and help bring in other speakers as well.

4) Make science accessible through citizen science.  Don't just teach our visitors about science - help them do it!  Work to establish FrogWatch, bird-watching survey groups, and other citizen science programs at your facility to help turn your visitors into conservation research partners.

Even the smallest, least-well-funded zoos and aquariums have the potential to implement some of the ideas on this list.  Together, we can work to build our understanding of animals, obtain data useful for improving animal welfare and assisting in conservation, and reclaim our roles as scientific institutions.

The Importance of Zoos, by Brittany Long Olsen

A friend of mine who is not in the profession shared this link with me today.  I appreciate Ms. Olsen's beautiful, brief description of the important work that zoos and aquariums can accomplish, not only in helping to conserve animals in the wild, but by making their visitors into better environmental stewards.  Also, it always makes me happy to see these points coming from someone who is not a zookeeper, aquarist, or educator - it makes me feel like the message really is getting out there.

Thank you!

Zoos are often vilified, but they also act as important hubs of education and conservation

The Saga of Stanley

With wildfires raging across California, it's only natural that my thoughts turn to the zoos that are in the path of danger, as well as my friends and colleagues who work there.  Not all of the animals under threat of fire are at major zoos and aquariums, however.  There are countless pets, native wildlife, and livestock affected by the natural disaster, along with a few unexpected creatures.  Such as a particular giraffe, named Stanley.

Stanley, a local celebrity who has a guest-star role in The Hangover Part III among other honors, is a resident of the Malibu Wine Safari, a vineyard tourist attraction in southern California.  He shares his home with camels, zebras, bison, llamas, and a host of domestic animals.  When the fires approached, the staff at Malibu decided that moving the eighteen-foot tall ungulate was impractical.  Instead, he and other animals were corralled in an area where it was deemed safer - mostly because there was nothing to burn - and he and some caretakers rode out the inferno.  When the flames passed, Stanley was still standing.

You'd think this would be universally regarded as a happy ending.  You would be wrong.

Stanley's caretakers and owners are being slammed on social media by folks for not having evacuated the animal and therefore having, in their eyes, abandoned him or left him for dead.

Now, I had never heard of Malibu Wine Safaris before this incident.  I have no position on it in general, as long as the animals are well cared for and treated humanely.  I do get irked, however, by people on social media spouting off on things they know nothing about.  Moving a giraffe is not easy.  It's really not.  It takes specialized equipment and training, and if you think that in the middle of a fire you're going to get a giraffe that's never voluntarily done this before to load, you've got another thing coming.  That other thing, incidentally, will probably end up being a dead giraffe, as they panic easily, and when they panic they run and fall, and when they fall... well, that's a lot of leg or neck they can break...

Today the criticism is being lobbed at the tourist attraction with a few head of exotics.  It could have just as easily been the Los Angeles Zoo.  Sure, they evacuated some animals... but no one was packing up their elephants and hippos to send to a safer location.  Sometimes - oftentimes, really, when it comes to large animals - the safest thing to do is shelter in place.

So now that the fires have passed, and now that we all now that Stanley is alive and well, and now that we've heard the explanations from Malibu Wine Safaris, I would like to make one final request of the internet... let's all move along now, shall we?  We can all find something new to be outraged about next week.

Book Review: Professor in the Zoo - Designing the Future for Wildlife in Human Care

Dr. Terry Maple has seen a lot.  When he was brought in as the new director for the Atlanta Zoo (today renamed Zoo Atlanta), it was a festering dump, recognized as one of America's worst.  There was no greater symbol of its inadequacy than Willie B., the solitary, bored, obese gorilla who lived in a tile and bar box, stoically listening to the jeers of zoo visitors as he watched his TV.  Today, Zoo Atlanta is one of America's finest, acclaimed for its wellness-based animal care, its conservation work, and its close ties to the research community.

Much of that success can be laid at the feet of Dr. Maple, now serving as Professor in Residence at the Jacksonville Zoo.  Dr. Maple outlines the experiences which led to the rebirth of Zoo Atlanta, as well as his vision for expanding on that success at zoos around the country, in Professor in the Zoo: Designing the Future for Wildlife in Human Care.

The book goes back and forth between two intersecting trains of thought.  There is the reflective phase, where Dr. Maple recounts how he came to be behind the director's desk in Atlanta and how he worked to turn the zoo around when its doom seemed imminent.  That's an enjoyable, feel-good read, especially as we explore the tactics that the staff used to improve animal care and the visitor experience, some of which I'm keen to try out in my own zoo.  Secondly, there is the visionary phase, where Dr. Maple describes his dreams of changes that could be made to improve animal care across the country.  Some of these are straightforward ideas that most zoos are trying to implement - bigger enclosures, more natural social groups, more enrichment.  Some are a little more controversial, such as more collaboration with organizations such as Humane Society of the United States and maybe even *gulp* PETA.  An entire chapter is devoted to SeaWorld and how it can survive and even thrive in a post-Blackfish environment.

If Dr. Maple has one major idea he wants to push, it's the desire for more empirical, scientific-based management of zoo animals.  It's pretty much spelled out in his new job title at Jacksonville, to say nothing of the title of the book.  I can see where he's coming from.  From my experience, a lot of what goes into zoo management of animals is based on intuition, superstition, and a certain degree of "Well that's how we've always done it."  I've heard lots of zoo professionals, newbie and veteran alike, who are adamant that what they do works, but who can't really back it up with any proof, other than the animal is still alive at that given moment.  I've heard plenty of cases where several employees are adamant that they are correct, even when they are saying the exact opposite thing.  Taking a more scientific approach to animal management, with measured results and controlled variables, can help us formalize our animal care and make sure that what we are doing really is providing the best possible results.  It can also help us build on successes and improve upon them.  Similarly, having more cold, hard, empirical data can be useful when confronting those who are opposed to our missions, be they activists or government bureaucrats.

It will, however, require an expenditure of effort, time, and resources, which is probably why we aren't doing it as much as we should be.

My own boss, the director at my zoo, has always disliked the title of "Curator."  To him, a curator is someone at a museum or an art gallery, someone with an advanced degree who sits behind a desk with rows of musty books behind him.  In his eye, that's not what a zoo needs.  Terry Maple disagrees, and I'm starting to fall into his camp.  Yes, we need people with animal sense, who aren't afraid to get dirty, work hard, and sometimes rely a little on intuition and gut.  At the same time, we should embrace the science-side of our profession with just as much vigor.  "Zoo," after all, is short for "zoological park," referring to the scientific study of animals.  The very first public zoos were gardens to science, and there's something to be said for getting back to one's roots.

All of us in the profession became zookeepers and aquarists because we care about animals and want to do our best for them.  Dr. Maple, based on decades of experience in the field, triumphing over some very adverse conditions, has shown us a new series of tools that we can use to work towards that goal.  We can't afford to ignore them.

Professor in the Zoo: Designing the Future for Wildlife in Human Care, at Amazon.com

Species Fact Profile: Humphead Wrasse (Cheilinus undulatus)

Humphead Wrasse (Napoleon Wrasse, Maori Wrasse)

Cheilinus undulatus (Ruppell, 1835)

Range: Coral Reefs
Habitat: Indian Ocean, Eastern Pacific Ocean
Diet: Mollusks, Fish, Sea Urchins, Crustaceans
Social Grouping: Solitary, Paired, Small Schools
Reproduction: Born as females, but some will change their sex to become males (trigger for the change is unknown).  Mating groups of over 100 individuals spawn, releasing eggs into the water.  Larvae settle onto sea floor, are sexually mature by 5-7 years old
Lifespan: 30-50 Years
Conservation Status: IUCN Endangered, CITES Appendix II

• Largest member of the wrasse family.  Grow up to 2.3 meters long and weigh up to 190 kilograms. Males are typically larger than females
• Color ranges from green to blue or purple, with varying brightness and mottling of red or yellow.  The forehead of the fish had a lump-like protrusion, the source of the common name
• Active by day, seek shelter at night in caves or on secluded ledges
• Immune to the toxic spines of many invertebrates, including the crown-of-thorns starfish.  This makes the wrasse one of the few predators of a species which has the potential to destroy coral reefs if left unchecked
• May use tools to crack open their prey, carrying urchins to a rock and striking the prey against it to break it open
• Sometimes engage in cooperative hunting with roving coral groupers, or follow stingrays to feed on small animals flushed by the hunting rays
• Uncommon over most of wide range and appears to be in decline.  Primary threat is overfishing, especially through the live reef fish food trade, in which the fish are captured using cyanide poisoning, devastating the reefs.  These fish can sell for $100 US per kilogram

The Banned Commercial

"The Streisand effect is a phenomenon whereby an attempt to hide, remove, or censor a piece of information has the unintended consequence of publicizing the information more widely, usually facilitated by the Internet."

- Wikipedia

The video clip above is from a commercial that was set to air in Iceland - before it was banned for being too political or, more accurately, too depressing.  It highlights the need for the world to take a firm stand on sustainable palm oil, or risk losing orangutans, Sumatran rhinos, Sumatran tigers, tomistoma, and a host of other species to extinction.

As moving as it is, I doubt that I would have ever heard of it if it hadn't been banned by the government, so thanks Iceland.

It's easy for us to pretend that the extinction crisis is brought about by other people, and that simply by not being "those people" - be they rich trophy hunters or practitioners of Traditional Chinese Medicine - that we've done enough to help (or at least not hurt) animals.  The truth is we all have so much more to do.  Otherwise, we risk having a future where orangutans are found in zoos and zoos alone.

The Trophy Hunter Boogeyman

I've seen the exact same exchange posted a thousand times.  Someone - a zoo or aquarium, a news station, or a visitor will post a picture or video of an animal on social media, usually of a large, charismatic mammal, like a giraffe or a grizzly bear.  Someone will then make a comment about how sad it is that the animal is in a zoo and not in the wild.  A third someone will then reply to that comment with one about how the animal is at least safe in the zoo and won't be shot by a trophy hunter, to which most of the other commentators will voice their agreement.

I'm phrasing this much more nicely than they generally do, by the way.

I was reading that exchange for the thousandth time today when something occurred to me.  None of these animals that we're talking about are really endangered because of trophy hunters.  With the exception of a few, heavily-poached species, such as rhinoceroses and elephants, most aren't even primarily threatened by hunting at all.  Rich American trophy hunters of the sort who pay for these extravagant hunting expeditions, such as the one which did-in the famous Cecil the Lion, are relatively few and far between.  Which got me thinking... why do we fixate on them so much?

The answer, I've decided, is because it's easy and it makes us feel good about ourselves without actually doing anything to help animals.

The people who do engage in trophy hunts tend to be wealthy or middle-class, white, and Western - just like many of the people who make these facebook posts.  Some of them may even be neighbors or professional colleagues.  It's easy for someone to say, "Hey, my Uncle Dan just went to Africa and shot a leopard.  I would never do such a thing.  That must be why they're endangered.  I'm not hunting leopards, so I'm doing my part to save them."

The thing is, your impact on the environment isn't determined by what you don't do.  It's by what you DO do.  That's like me saying, "My diet must be going well because I DIDN'T eat three whole fried chickens," while ignoring the fact that I didn't eat anything healthy.  Convincing ourselves that animals are endangered because of a few conservation super-villains lets the rest of us off the hook for the real causes - habitat loss, invasive species, competition for resources, etc.  Similarly, I'm convinced that a lot of the reason that people hate on SeaWorld is because they know that orca populations are dropping and it's easier to blame a for-profit corporation that doesn't actually interfere with their own lives than it is to face the specters of pollution and overfishing.

Conservation requires commitment, bold action, and, above all else, honesty.  If we want to save species, we need to face the reasons why they are really endangered.  Sometimes (not often, but sometimes), that means pointing the finger at some rich tourist we see on Facebook.  More often than not, it might mean pointing that same finger at ourselves.

From the News: Brush fire in Griffith Park forces LA Zoo to evacuate some animals

Brush fire in Griffith Park forces LA Zoo to evacuate some animals

It's every zookeeper's worst nightmare (well, one of them... we tend to be fairly neurotic and have lots of worst nightmares) - a natural disaster that forces you to evacuate the zoo.  Thankfully everything has turned out okay - the fire is mostly contained, animals are being returned to their enclosures (only some smaller ones were relocated), and no damage was done to the zoo.  This time.  Incidents like this serve to underscore the critical importance of constant drills and training for whatever disaster your areas are most prone to - fire, hurricane, flood, tornado, etc.  There may come a time when the lives of your staff, your visitors, and your animals depend upon it.

How exactly do you evacuate zoo animals from a natural disaster?

Species Fact Profile: Hellbender (Cryptobranchus alleganiensis)

Hellbender

Cryptobranchus alleganiensis (Daudin, 1803)

Range: Eastern United States
Habitat: Freshwater Streams
Diet: Crayfish, Aquatic Insects, Fish, Smaller Amphibians
Social Grouping: Solitary, Territorial
Reproduction: Breed in early to mid autumn.  Males guard nest sites underneath rocks, where female comes to lay 150-450 eggs.  Male fertilizes eggs externally, then chases the female off.  Females may mate with multiple males during a breeding season.  Eggs hatch after 45-80 days.  Young are independent immediately after birth, sexually mature at 5-8 years old.
Lifespan: 30 Years (more commonly 10-15 years)
Conservation Status: IUCN Near Threatened, CITES Appendix II,

• Largest North American salamander species, measuring 29-69 centimeters long and weighing 400-1000 grams.  Closest relatives are the Chinese and Japanese giant salamanders of Asia.
• Flattened body, head is flat and broad, tail is large and muscular.  Thick folds of skin along the side of the body.  Lack the eyelids or feathered gills seen in many salamanders.
• Males and females look alike with brown or black skin, occasionally with some reddish spotting.  Albinos occur rarely
• Other common names for the species throughout its range include "snot otter", "Allegheny alligator" and "lasagna lizard"
• Active at night.  Spend days under large flat rocks which their territories are centered around.  Territories are approximately 120 square meters, may overlap
• Poor sense of vision.  Communicate with pheromones to signal readiness to breed.  Detect prey using lateral line to sense movement in the water.
• Larval hellbenders are preyed upon by fish, including some introduced sport fishing species.  Adults may prey upon smaller hellbenders.  Primary defense is camouflage.  If seized, can secrete irritants from their skin
• Two subspecies recognized - the nominate subspecies and the Ozark subspecies, C. a. bishopi of Missouri 
• Populations declining due to pollution, degradation, and silting of the streams where they live; hellbenders are very sensitive to water quality.  Also impacted by chytrid fungus
• In recent years, some state governments have begun head-starting hellbenders, while zoos have been developing captive-breeding techniques for reintroduction into the wild.

"Florida Man" Strikes Again

Here's a great bit of journalism-lore for you - any story in which the headline begins with the words "Florida man" is probably not going to have a happy ending.  It's always "Florida man does this" and "Florida man does that" and "Florida man does some other damn idiotic thing."  In today's news, "Florida man" (in this case one Brandon Hatfield) decided to go to St. Augustine Alligator Farm... and then to jump on in.  As in "in with the Nile crocodiles."  Thankfully he was taken into custody shortly after with only moderate injuries.   You do you, Florida man.

A Pilgrimage to Alligator River

The Outer Banks of North Carolina is a region steeped in history.  It's the site of the mysterious vanished colony of Roanoke, the first English colony in the New World and the birthplace of the first English child in the Americas.  It's the site of the first manned flight, taken by the Wright Brothers at Kitty Hawk.  It's the site of the resting place of the USS Monitor, the ironclad warship immortalized in exhibitry (never thought I'd type that phase) at the nearby North Carolina Aquarium on Roanoke Island.  Pirates and patriots, Indians and inventors, all have played their part in the history of the region.

It is, incidentally, also the site of a pivoltal moment in the history of American zoos.  Just on the mainland from Roanoke Island lies Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge.  In its swamps and woodlands can be found the last wild population of red wolves.

I didn't so much stop to see Alligator River on my way to the Aquarium as I did stop at the Aquarium on my way to Alligator River.  It had been a lifelong dream of mine to explore the reserve, a dream which only intensified when I became a red wolf keeper years ago.  Of course, I knew the chances of seeing one of the wolves in the wild was virtually nil - it was hard enough for me to find the ones that I worked with within the confines of their enclosure.  The recent downward trend in fortune of the species only made it more essential to me to visit the Refuge.  I might not see a wolf, but it might be my last chance to walk in the woods knowing that there were red wolves sharing the landscape. 

It's a very exciting feeling, knowing that you are walking within sight and smell and sound of one of the world's rarest animals.  It changes the way you perceive everything - every shadow, every rustling tuft of tall grass, every distant sound I saw or heard through the lens of, "Could that be a wolf?"  And, as I expected, I didn't see any.  Knowing that they were there, however, made it a memorable experience.

Any joys that I felt at walking through these woods diminished on my drive away, as I passed a grotesquely ugly billboard, denouncing the Fish and Wildlife Service and their red wolf "scandal."  What this scandal is and how FWS was supposedly profiting over it was hard to say, but there was a link to their website on the billboard.  I chose not to give them the traffic.

Perhaps I've been too quick to write the obituary of the species.  Today, red wolves won a stunning surprise victory when a federal judge decided that too many protections for the species had been rolled back (largely due to the efforts of the folks posting the billboard) and ordering the government to step up efforts to save the species.  It's a victory that may have come too late - but maybe not.  Red wolves have beaten worse odds before.  They're nothing if not survivors.

So maybe it'll be that I'll visit Alligator River some other time, and maybe then I'll have better luck.  Even if I don't, though, it'll be nice to realize that something wild is still there.

Zoo Review: North Carolina Aquarium on Roanoke Island

Spread along the North Carolina coastline are the three North Carolina Aquariums, owned and operated by the State.  The three facilities, relatively small compared to the larger urban aquariums, such as Baltimore and Boston, specialize in the freshwater life of the Tarheel State, along with the marine life found off its shore.  The northernmost of these three facilities in the North Carolina Aquarium on Roanoke Island, located in the popular Outer Banks region.

Upon entering the Aquarium, visitors find themselves in the Seven Rivers gallery, home to a selection of North Carolina's reptiles, amphibians, and freshwater fish.  Prominent among the former are several species of native venomous snakes - copperhead, cottonmouth, and timber and eastern diamondback rattlesnakes - in attractive showcase exhibits.  Also on display here is an exhibit of juvenile American alligators, confiscated from an illegal pet owner.

Larger alligators can be found down the hall in the Wild Wetlands exhibit - including a rarely-displayed leucistic alligator.  I don't normally go for color morphs, but you have to admit that it's an unworldly-looking animal; its bizarre coloration, combined with the fact that, well, it's an alligator and it doesn't move much, resulted in many of the visitors I was standing with that day swearing up and down that it was fake.  The white, blue-eyed gator and its normally-colored counterpart can be viewed above or underwater - if you're extra lucky, you might be able to catch a training demo.  Across from the gators is an exhibit of North American river otters, also viewable above and below water, as well as in their nest cave.  North Carolina Aquarium is involved in rehabbing and releasing orphaned or injured river otters, but the animals here were unable to be released.  Turtles and fish (I'm constantly exasperated by how little signage most aquariums provide for their fish) round out the room.  One of my favorite features was a recreated osprey nest... with a TV mounted on top of it to show life-size footage of ospreys in a nest, raising their chicks.  It was a cool way to incorporate an iconic species that few zoos and aquariums work with, as well as showing an aspect of its life that even fewer will see.

Leaving the marshes behind, the Aquarium turns to the sea.  A gallery of small marine aquariums contain moray eels, spiny lobsters, and other saltwater creatures before emptying into the Sea Senses touch tank area, where visitors can, under supervision, touch cownose rays and white-spotted bamboo sharks.  A psychedelic gallery of jellyfish is next door.

During the US Civil War, a new chapter was added to naval history with the introduction of two ironclad war ships - the USS Monitor and the CSS Virginia (originally the USS Merrimack), which fought each other to a standstill by the mouth of the Chesapeake.  On the last day of 1862, the Monitor sank off the coast of North Carolina; in 1949, it was rediscovered and designated a National Historic Site.  The largest exhibit at the Aquarium, the 285,000 gallon Graveyard of the Atlantic, is based on commemorating the history of the ship.  Sand tiger sharks, sandbar sharks, and nurse sharks glide silently over and around the recreated ruins of the Monitor, resting on the bottom of the tank.  Goliath grouper, barracuda, tarpon, and other fish compliment the scene.   The exhibit is complimented with multimedia educational devices, including video reenactment of the epic battle, to explore the history of the Monitor and its importance to our nation's history.

The final exhibit area is the Sea Turtle Assistance and Rehabilitation (STAR) Center, where Aquarium biologists work to rescue loggerheads and other sea turtles that have been cold-stunned, tangled in fishing line, or otherwise incapacitated and nurse them back to health so that they can be released.  This is not an exhibit so much as it is a behind-the-scenes peek at how the turtles are housed and cared for, along with extensive graphics informing the public of how the work is carried out and how they can help sea turtles.  Just out back, the beautiful Southsound Pier juts out over the water, with a pavilion at the end that serves as an idyllic place to sit and rest.

The North Carolina Aquarium on Roanoke Island is quite a small facility, and it took me only an hour to breeze through... and I'm one of those people who reads all the signs.  I did enjoy it very much, however, especially the Monitor exhibit.  I really love it when zoos and aquariums use their exhibits to tell stories about history, culture, and people, and how those all relate to the animals on display - in this case, the story of how a weapon of war now serves as a sanctuary for a variety of marine life, just off the coast of the state.

There were some other stories, however, that I wished the Aquarium had told.  Literally out the back door is Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge, an imperiled ecosystem that is home to the last wild red wolves in the world.  I'm not saying that the Aquarium needs an exhibit of wolves, but could it have shared the story, maybe restyling the Wild Wetlands as being themed around the Refuge and drumming up support and interest for tourists to go there?  Or what about climate change?  The Outer Banks is one of the most vulnerable areas in the country to sea level changes - couldn't the Aquarium share those concerns in a visitor-friendly manner, maybe highlighting things visitors could do to help (though I did enjoy the rain garden exhibit outside)?

There has been an explosion in new aquarium development in the United States, with more and more small facilities opening up.  Many of them tend to be somewhat formulaic in their design.  I would love to see more institutions like the North Carolina Aquariums springing up, especially in parts of the country where there currently are no zoos or aquariums.  These facilities could, like this, focus on native wildlife and native stories, combining history, wildlife, plants, and culture to inspire interest in their own backyards.

North Carolina Aquarium of Roanoke Island

The Lions of Europe?

"Make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood."

- Daniel Burnham

I read a great article today on the plight of the Asian lion, the rarer, lesser-known subspecies cousin of Africa's famous King of the Beasts.  The Sparknotes version?  Asia's lions, once widespread, are now confined to a single small population in India, and their future looks bleak.  The most recent threat is the Canine Distemper Virus which, despite the name, is quite deadly to cats as well.

Europe offers last line of defence for Asiatic lion

There are close to 150 captive Asiatic lions in Europe (Keystone)

The article highlights the role that zoos (European ones, mind you - there are no Asian lions in the United States) can play in saving the big cats.  The conversation highlights the possibility of European zoos and Indian forestry agencies exchanging animals, swapping genes and possibly establishing a second wild population in India as a back-up in case the imperiled Gir Forest population succombs to extinction.

It's a great idea, but the article title got my wheels turning a little...

What about a second population... in Europe?

You see, Panthera leo persica is only found in India NOW... but historically, it ranged  through the Middle East and into Europe.  All those lions in Greek myths and fables?  Those were Asian lions.  The lions in the Bible?  Also Asians.  What if room could be found to re-establish a population of Asian lions in the western extremes of their range, such as in a corner of Greece, or Turkey?

It sounds crazy, but if you think about it, the continental United States is home to two species of bears, two species of wolves, pumas, and (occasionally) jaguars.  Is there any quiet corner of the European Union where a (heavily managed, but still wild) population of Asian lions can be established?  Then, hopefully, more small populations could be established in between, through the Middle East, Iran (already home to Asia's last cheetahs), and into India, with animals being periodically moved between the populations to freshen the gene pools.

It's an absurdly complicated dream, one which would require a lot of land, a lot of money, a lot of management, and the cooperation of several governments, some of which are quite hostile to one another.  Still, if it could be accomplished, it would be a breathtaking conservation acheivement.  A habitat that could support lions across southern Europe and western Asia would also support their prey (gazelles, deer, wild boar), their scavengers and competitors (golden jackals, striped hyenas), and a host of other species.  Imagine a scaled-down Serengeti in a part of the world where you'd never expect it, or tourists at the Acropolis hearing very distant roars?

It's a dream, of course.  But with dreams, sometimes it's best to go big or go home.

Trip or Treat!

Well, we made it into November.  Hopefully your Halloween was an enjoyable one with lots of treats, and possibly the occasionally trip to keep you on your toes.