Species Fact Profile: Vietnamese Giant Centipede

Vietnamese Giant Centipede

Scolopendra subspinipes (Leach, 1815)

Range: Southeast Asia, Philippines, Indonesia.  Has been observed in many other locations in the tropics and subtropics around the world (including Hawaii), possibly part of its natural range, possibly due to introduction by humans
Habitat: Tropical and Subtropical Forest
Diet: Primarily insects and other arthropods, but occasionally small vertebrates, such as mice and small lizards.  Will attempt to kill and eat any animal smaller than itself
Social Grouping: Solitary
Reproduction: Males deposit packets of mature sperm cells which are picked up by the female, who will use it to fertilize her eggs.  The 50-80 eggs are laid in a dark, protected area.  Incubation is about one month.  The female will protect the eggs and the hatchlings until their first molt
Lifespan: 10 Years
Conservation Status: Not Listed

• One of the largest centipedes in the world, growing up to 20 centimeters long or more
• Red-brown body is comprised of 21 flattened segments, each with a single pair of yellow legs (contrary to their name, no species of centipede has one-hundred legs).  The head segment is covered with a shield plate and a pair of antennae.  A specialized pair of modified legs called the forcipules are located on the head.  These are the primary weapons, connected to the centipede's venom glands
• Primarily nocturnal, spend the day in dark, enclosed areas, such as crevices or under logs
• Molt once a year, growing each time.  They achieve adult size by 3-4 years old
• One of the most common centipedes in the pet trade, popular due to their size and striking appearance.  They have a reputation of being nervous and aggressive which, combined with their toxicity (their bite can cause extreme pain and swelling), means that handling is not recommended
• This is the only centipede species which has been implicated in the death of a human - a young girl from the Philippines who was bitten on her head.  Some individuals can have allergic reactions to the venom of this and other centipedes
• Multiple subspecies have been described over the vast range, but the taxonomy is still uncertain, and some of these may be separate species, or represent centipedes transported outside of their natural range

From the News: Giraffes among 10 animals killed in 'tragic' Ohio safari wildlife park fire

Giraffes among 10 animals killed in 'tragic' Ohio safari wildlife park fire

Yesterday evening, while many of us were sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner, the staff of African Safari Wildlife Park in northern Ohio were facing their worst nightmare.  A barn fire claimed the lives of ten of their animals - three giraffes, three bongos, three red river hogs, and a springbok.  While it is very fortunate that no human lives were lost, the staff, I'm sure, are devastated by the loss of the animals that they care for.  The cause of the fire is as of yet unknown. 

My deepest condolences to the staff.  I hope they are getting the comfort and support they need is this unimaginable time.

Thankful For...

"The world today can be a scary place,

Hard to keep your faith in the human race.

We're running out of trees and we're running out of space,

But we'll never run out of good people."

- Great Big Sea, Good People

If you care about animals... or the environment... or humanity in general, the world can indeed be a scary place as of late.  Reading the news, it's easy to get the vibe that we are one bad day away from starring in our own post-apocalyptic movie, with the world always on the edge of disaster.


There's enough bad news out there that's real - it doesn't help that despair (and a desire for social media traffic) often leads to exaggerated stories of doom and gloom.  For example, this week a story went viral declaring the koalas are essentially extinct.  This is not only not true, it's downright counterproductive, as it could lead well-meaning people to conclude that it's simply too late to save koalas, and write them off as a lost cause.





The thing is, if you read between the angry, tragic headlines, you'll see plenty of silver linings of hope.  There are an amazing number of people out there who are working - sometimes alone, sometimes as part of an organization or partnership - to try and turn this ship around.  Some of them are working on environmental issues, be it trying to combat global climate change, leading reforestation efforts, or breeding endangered amphibians for release back into the wild.  Some are working on human rights, or health care, or promoting democracy and freedom.  None of them are perfect.  All of them are important.


So, this year for Thanksgiving, I'm going to choose to be thankful for those people.  The ones who are trying to make a better world, and who are probably constantly beating themselves up because they feel like they aren't doing enough.  These are the people who, in a myriad of different ways, are helping to save the planet.  Perhaps most importantly, they are doing us the service of leading by example, and showing how much difference an individual can make.

Don't Bang the Glass

Well, this photo, shared by the Oakland Zoo, is an extreme example, but still... don't bang the glass.





This isn't just your ordinary window pane - otherwise it would never hold adult grizzly bears (plus the weight of that water) behind it.  It's six-inches worth of bulletproof glass, designed to spider-web instead of shattering when damaged.  So this looks scary, but is actually nothing to be too concerned about from a safety point of view.  I saw something similar during a visit I paid to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo last year, where the glass on some of their exhibits (including, ironically, the grizzly bears) was similarly damaged.


Of course, that damage was caused by hail, and so was a natural, unavoidable accident.  This highly expensive cluster was the work of the most dangerous of zoo animals, an unsupervised child, this one apparently armed with a rock or something along those lines.


It blows my mind sometimes how some visitors just cannot leave glass alone.  Don't bang it.  Don't tap it.  Don't press your nose up against it.  And for the love of all that is holy, don't lick it (seriously people?).  Just look through it and admire the animal.  It's a window - not a portal to another dimension.


Glass-banging is especially annoying in reptile and small mammal houses, where the environment is smaller and it is more difficult to get away from the source, unlike these bears, who could easily meander away.   The enclosed spaces make the sounds reverberate.  Also keep in mind, many small animals, such as snakes and arthropods, are very sensitive to vibration, so glass tapping is especially irritating to them.


Cobras and rattlesnakes seem to be the species which inadvertently invite the most glass-tapping, presumably from visitors who want to see their characteristic defensive postures.  Which reminds me of a fantastic sign that I saw in front of a cobra exhibit at one zoo:

"DON'T BANG THE GLASS - WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF IT BROKE?"

Zoo History: The Wall Between the Berlin Zoos

In the aftermath of the Second World War, the zoos of continental Europe were devastated.  Firstly, many had been plundered by the Nazis as they marched across the continent; along with artistic and historical treasures, prized zoological specimens were packed off to Germany.  Then, many of those German zoos were almost completely obliterated by the Allied bombing campaigns.  With the end of the war, the zookeepers of Europe - along with those of virtually every profession - were faced with the mammoth task of rebuilding.

Rebuild they did.  With the advantage of a blank slate, many European zoos completely reinvented themselves, starting fresh with newer, more modern habitats that better suited the needs of their animals.  Soon, as it was before the war, the finest zoo in postwar Europe was that of Berlin.

The German capital was different from virtually every other city in Europe in one very important way - here, the line of division between the former-Allies of World War II, the democratic West and the communist Soviets, ran right through the heart of the city.  In 1961, that division became concrete - literally, with the erection of the Berlin Wall.  Even before that, however, travel between the western and eastern segments of the city was being tightened up, with residents of one half finding themselves cut off from family, friends, and institutions in the other.  Among those amenities that was increasingly isolated was the Berlin Zoo.

The Tierpark in East Berlin in 1965.  Getty Images

Even before the rise of the wall, the East German authorities were conscious of the prestige of the Berlin Zoo and what an asset it was to their West German rivals.  The only solution, then, was to build their own.  In 1955, the Tierpark Berlin opened on the grounds of the Friedrichsfelde Palace.  Even more so than the western facility (which at the very least had to clear up the rubble of its former buildings), the Tierpark had a chance to start fresh.  Like its neighbor and one-time rival, it took advantage of its youth to open with many modern features.  Coupled with its sprawling campus of 400 acres (almost five times the size of the Berlin Zoo), it was able to feature large herds of ungulates, one of the few zoos at the time to do so.  The massive big cat house was designed to accommodate up to 70 lions, tigers, and other carnivores.  The reptile house - featuring a demonstration area for venomous snakes - was likewise massive.  The West Germans tried to secure apes in an effort to outdo the East Germans, who had no access to those animals.

 Originally, the two directors, Heinz-Georg Klos in the West, Heinrih Dathe in the East, went out of their way to downplay any sort of rivalry between the two, claiming that their facilities would be complementary and collaborators.  This façade of friendliness broke down over the years, in part due to pressure from political forces on both sides of the divide.  The zoos became a chance for one Germany to highlight its superiority over the other.  The directors and staff competed to secure animals and attractions to outshine the other, and it was a source of pride for the zoos (and mild irritation for the locals) when visitors could be induced to cross the divide to visit the others' zoo.

Though forced to frequently interact professionally, Klos and Dathe grew to loathe each other, eventually coming to blows in the West Berlin elephant house after Dathe implied that he thought the West German elephants looked a bit runty.  Zoo professionals visiting their rivals for conferences were encouraged to do a little spying while they were on their trip.  There was no doubt that this was no mere local rivalries between two nearby zoos competing for visitors, as San Diego Zoo and Los Angeles Zoo might do, for instance.   

Much as the Nazis had robbed the other zoos and museums of Europe to demonstrate the superiority of their government, so did the Democratic and Socialist governments hold up their respective zoos as signs of their superiority over each other.  Anyone who was inclined to overlook the role of politics in every aspect of the zoo had only to visit the Tierpark's brutalist polar bear exhibit... and read the plaque that proudly announced that it had been donated by the Statsi, the feared secret police.

Today, the Berlin Wall is a mass of monuments, museums, and rubble.  The city was reunited and the Cold War ended.  Berliners now have the choice of visiting two very fine zoos, which view each other more as cooperative partners towards wildlife conservation than they do rivals.  In the first edition of his guide to America's Best Zoos, Allen Nyhuis devoted a little space towards the back to ranking the finest zoos in the world.  The top two listed were the zoos of Berlin.   So maybe there is still just a tiny bit of rivalry...

An American Platypus

I have been nerding out for the last 24-hours since I first heard the news that it was official.  There are so many species that I never thought I'd be able to see, either in a zoo or in the field, and these beautiful little beasties have long been at the top of the list.  San Diego, here I come - and a lot of other zookeepers are coming too!

The Butterfly Net and the Shoebox

Not too long ago, a zoo that I worked at wanted to revamp its native species exhibits.  Among the exhibits to be refurbished was a habitat for American toads, a common, almost omnipresent species in our part of the country.


Now, there is no Species Survival Plan for American toads.  As small as they are, there isn't a ready supply of non-releasable injured toads that can be adopted out from rescue centers either (as any toad that is injured in the wild would likely be killed outright or eaten shortly after).  Instead, one of the keepers was dispatched with a plastic bucket and directed to take a walk through the zoo.  A few minutes later, she was back with four toads.


At this time, the Association of Zoos and Aquariums manages over five hundred species survival plans, covering animals as divergent as beluga whales and red-kneed tarantulas.  Most species are selected for inclusion in an SSP because of their conservation status, taxonomy uniqueness, or exhibition value, often some combination thereof.  Many new zoo exhibits are essentially planned around these animals, as these are the species that are available to work with.


Many zoos also have native exhibits, however.  Some facilities, such as the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum and the Virginia Living Museum, are entirely native-focused.  These facilities want to display a comprehensive sampling of the species found in their region.  Some native US species are part of breeding programs, especially highly endangered ones, such as whooping cranes and bog turtles.  Most are not.  In some cases, especially with  birds and mammals, zoos can obtain specimens by taking in animals that are deemed non-releasable or nuisances (this is where virtually all bald eagles, American black bears, pumas, and white-tailed deer in American zoos come from).  Others, especially in the case of reptiles, amphibians, fish, and invertebrates, may be taken from the wild.


If a species is not federally protected, then the ability of a zoo, aquarium, museum, university, or private individual for that matter, to take specimens from the wild is left to the state.  Some states require special permits to collect wild animals and require detailed reporting.  Others allow almost anything to go, if the species in question is not legally protected on the state or federal level.  With very common native species, such as American toads, there is likely to be little issue with collecting.


Legal and ethical aren't used interchangeably, however, which does beg the question - if zoos no longer deem it appropriate to take large mammals from the wild in all but the most important of cases (such as a rescue, or getting important new genetic material for a population), is it okay for them to take a toad, or a tarantula, or a turtle?  It's a question I hadn't really thought of very much before.  When we ponder the concept of animal freedom, we're more likely to be thinking about big cats, bears, and elephants rather than toads.  We generally assume that if the toad is well fed, safe, and in a comfortably provisioned habitat, it's probably fine.  After all, we're talking about animals that in their natural state might not move more than a few feet a day, not migrating over vast distances.


I think that as long as these animals are being well-cared for and their husbandry and welfare is being monitored closely, it's very beneficial to have them in an exhibit setting so that people can learn about them and appreciate them.  The requirements must be met, the zoo must be able to demonstrate that animals are living their natural lifespan or beyond, and indications of stress/discomfort must be minimal.  That is to say, an aquarium shouldn't be allowed to pull great white shark after great white shark from the ocean for an exhibit, replacing each right after it dies at a young age.  All collection from the wild must be well documented and follow to the letter all local laws, including permits.


For many of these species, I do not think it beneficial to start formalized breeding programs, as they would compete with other, more conservation-dependent species in terms of time and resources (a hypothetical American toad breeding program would take away space from a Puerto Rican crested toad breeding program, for instance). 


I've collected a decent number of native herps and invertebrates for exhibits before.  Some have been permanent members of the collection.  Some have been kept for short periods of time and then released.  I've done so legally in all cases (which on one occasion included playing dumb when a tyrannical boss told me to bring him some bog turtles on my next expedition, which I was 100% not willing to do). 


I've learned a lot from each, and like to think that they've helped teach the public a great deal about the natural world we live in.

Species Fact Profile: Banggai Cardinalfish

Banggai Cardinalfish

Pterapogon kauderni (Koumans, 1933)

Range: Banggai Islands (off the coast of Sulawesi, Indonesia)
Habitat: Reefs, Seagrass Beds, Shallow Coastal Waters
Diet: Small Crustaceans and Other Marine Invertebrates, Plankton
Social Grouping: Small Mixed-Sex Schools (Fewer Than 10 Fish), Sometimes Larger Groups
Reproduction: Can breed year round, but most often in September and October.  Courting pairs form two weeks.  Courtship is initiated by females a few hours prior to spawning, establishing small territories.  Small clutches (fewer than 90 eggs) are brooded in the mouth of the male for 30 days (18-21 days to hatch, then a week or two as juveniles).  Female guards the male for the first few days after laying.  Hatchlings stay in father's mouth for a period of time after hatching, growing quickly in there.  Mature at about 10 months old
Lifespan: 1-2 Years (Wild), 4 Years (Aquarium)
Conservation Status: IUCN Endangered, UWFWS Threatened

• Length up to 8 centimeters.  Fins are very elongated (in the case of the first dorsal fin also tasseled), giving the fish an almost star-like appearance.  Males have a slightly more angular head and longer second dorsal fin, but otherwise very similar.  Males can be distinguished by their enlarged oral cavity, but only during brooding
• Sexes look largely alike, with gray-white base color with bright silver flecks and three black vertical stripes on the head and flanks, extending into the fins
• Unlike other cardinalfish species, they are active by day
• Males do not eat while they are mouth-brooding the young; in captive settings, some have starved if the female continues to breed, forcing him to continuously brood young.
• Often found near sea anemones and sea urchins, hiding within these invertebrates for protection from predators.  Predators include lionfish, groupers, and marine snakes
• Primary threat is collection for the pet trade - first appeared in international markets in the mid 1990's, and has since become very popular, with approximately 700,000-900,000 exported per year by the early 2000's.  Limited range and low reproductive rate made this rate of collection highly unsustainable
• One of only a few marine fish species to be regularly bred in captivity, which is helping to undercut the demand for wild-caught fish for the pet trade
• Habitat is also threatened by pollution from agricultural run-off, destruction of reefs due to fishing with explosives
• Small populations of this species have been established in other parts of Indonesia; believed to be caused by released/escaped pets, given the highly sedentary nature of this fish, with even neighboring populations being very genetically isolated

Experiencing Awe

Zoo and aquarium professionals go to work every day believing that they can make a positive difference for animals, both in human care and in the wild.  Zoo and aquarium leaders claim that their facilities improve their communities, both through direct and indirect economic impact, as well as by providing recreational and educational opportunities for the communities that they serve.  These are all arguments that I've heard (and subscribed to) for years.


But can a visit to a zoo or an aquarium have the potential to make the visitor a better person?  That's a new one for me.


Up until this morning, I had no idea that "Awe Researcher" was a career that someone did.  It sounds fun, like you would just get to continue putting yourself in awesome situations to see what happens, but that's probably not how it works.  Anyway, here is an article from one such researcher, detailing how the sorts of experiences that a visitor might have at a zoo, or any other number of places, really, can make a person's life better.

The Secret of Connection? Experiencing Awe

"Even just remembering an experience of awe makes people measurably kinder, happier, and more generous."

Nature Center Zoos

Among zoo professionals, the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum has long been praised as a spectacular example of a zoo devoted to exploring the flora and fauna of its home region.  Many zoos have displays of native wildlife; these are actually often some of my favorite parts of zoos, since they tend to be unique and customized, whereas many zoo exhibits (rainforest buildings, African savannahs) can be a little cookie-cutter identical. 

Relatively few facilities are entirely devoted to native wildlife.  The last one that I can recall visiting was the North Carolina Aquarium on Roanoke Island.

The last large facility, I should say.  There are many, many facilities that just focus on native habitats.  They just tend to be much smaller... and we call them nature centers.

The standard nature center is a small building, often attached to a park or other recreational area, with an orientation desk, a few amenities, some classroom or activity space, and some exhibits.  Some of those exhibits may be non-living, such as taxidermy mounts and other biofacts, as well as artifacts and geological samples.  Others may be living, often in the form of a few small aquariums or terrariums with small local fish, amphibians, and reptiles.  There may be a ranger or two, or perhaps the facility will be manned by volunteers.

The nature center is rarely the focal point of a visit to a park.  Usually it's a springing-off point, a visitor center for guests who are about to set off for a day of hiking, cycling, or other outdoor activities.

I think that there is tremendous potential for zoos and aquariums to work with nature centers, in some cases taking on the role of them, in others supporting their work.  Zookeepers tend to have a lot more professional expertise with animal husbandry than park rangers do, so can partner with nature centers to help develop better habitats and care regimes for wildlife housed there; they could also share biofacts and educational materials, as well as help place non-releasable native wildlife that is brought to them.  Nature centers can help zoos by serving as outdoor classroom space where zoo-based education groups can come to experience natural habitats, as well as volunteer for projects such as habitat restoration, invasive species removal, and building and placing bird and bat houses.

Especially in urban areas, zoos - especially those that are adjacent or inside of city parks - could try to absorb some of the roles of the nature center, especially when it comes to interpretation and exploration of urban green spaces. Every zoo or aquarium should have at least some exhibits and educational material devoted to local habitats.

I wouldn't like to see zoos go too far down the rabbit hole of becoming nature centers entirely, though.  Focusing exclusively on native wildlife has some benefits for educational purposes, but it can be counterproductive for conservation purposes.  If ever zoos decided to have a paddock of orphaned white-tailed deer fawns, there might not be any room or resources for caring for endangered exotic ungulates. 

Besides, zoos and aquariums can only carry on their mission if they themselves are sustainable, which means attracting visitors.  In 1992, Camden, New Jersey opened what was proudly called the New Jersey State Aquarium at Camden, featuring the fish of New Jersey, most of which are dull brown or grey.  The Aquarium almost went bankrupt.  It underwent a massive renovation, reopening as the Adventure Aquarium.  Among other changes, management brought crocodiles, penguins, hippos, and many tropical, colorful fish to Camden. 

Zoo Review: Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, Part II

Continuing from yesterday, visitors to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum will enter the Desert Grassland, home to many seldom-seen but fascinating residents of the desert.  Compared to the giants seen in the Mountain Woodland trail, many of the animals seen here are cryptic and smaller.  The most popular with many visitors will be the black-tailed prairie dogs, which once shaped the landscape with their vast, sprawling colonies.  Those colonies were historically (and to a lesser extent still are) home to a wide variety of grassland residents, such as burrowing owls and snakes, which can be seen here in a series out outdoor, glass-fronted habitats. 

For me, the most extraordinary animal that I saw in the entire museum was here – the grasshopper mouse.  Granted, it was very hard to see, in a small, nocturnal exhibit with horrible glare from the sun.  Still, this was the only occasion on which I’ve ever seen these awesome, predator little rodents, known for their habit of howling at the moon and chasing down and eating scorpions and other small animals.  It took me several loops though the grounds before I finally caught sight of the little critter, and the pictures I took barely show it, but I was still thrilled to get a chance to finally see this animal I’d heard so much about.  I would have loved for this species to have had a display that highlighted it better, but with a tiny, nocturnal animal, I’m not sure what that would look like, to be honest.  It would be a fascinating challenge, to be sure.

Even more small desert dwellers can be seen in the nearby Life on the Rocks, a series of multi-species habitats of birds (including charismatic roadrunners), amphibians, and lizards from the region in large dioramas.  There are a decent number of model animals scattered around the area, and I will confess, there were times when I was uncertain as to whether I was looking for live animals or being directed towards a model, outside the enclosure.  Still, it was a great exhibit with natural habitats that conveyed an important lesson about how animals are able to survive in such a seemingly hostile environment.  Kids can get their own idea of what “Life on the Rocks” is like in the nearby Packrat Playhouse, a darkened indoor playroom where kids (and adults) can pretend that they’ve been shrunk to the size of a rodent and explore the wonder – and danger – of a desert from that vantage point.

Life on the Rocks is part of Desert Loop Trail, which features vast, open habitats for two of the Sonora’s most iconic species.  Unlike the wolves, bears, and pumas seen in the Mountain Woodland, collared peccaries and coyotes are still very much present.   Here they can be seen not as backyard nuisances – tippers over of trashcans, snatchers of small pets – but as true wild animals.  When I first saw the peccaries, I actually froze for a second – I thought they were actually free-roaming, an illusion heightened by the fact that their exhibit is on both sides of the path, connected by an underpass.  When I walked by the enormous coyote habitat, I thought to myself, I’m sure this would look cool, if you were to ever see one in here.  At that exact moment, a coyote seemingly materialized in front of me, than trotted off across the meadow and disappeared into some scrub.  It was beautiful.

More carnivores can be seen in Cat Canyon, home to bobcat, ocelot, and gray fox, which can be viewed from above or from a cool, glass-fronted viewing gallery at eye-level.  Nearby, the Riparian Corridor, seemingly out of place in a desert museum, houses such unexpected animals as beavers and river otters.  These aquatic mammals can be seen underwater in a viewing gallery, which also includes a sneak-peek into the beavers’ lodge and exhibits of freshwater fish and invertebrates.  White-nosed coati inhabit a sprawling yard outside, just next to what is perhaps the ASDM’s most iconic habitat – a towering mountain home for bighorn sheep, with a handsome ram overseeing the herd.

Life Underground is a dark tunnel that is supposed to transport visitors to the hidden world of small animals that live under the surface.  I saw “supposed to” because apart from a single gecko, I didn’t actually see any.  It was unclear as to whether this gallery was still in use, or if it had been phased out by some of the newer habitats.  I don’t like to judge exhibits unless I see the animals in them, but I have to admit I found this area somewhat dreary and bland, with small habitats.  I think that the concept is great and it has the potential to be a great immersive experience – it just definitely needs some freshening up.

Finally, we come to two walk-through aviaries.  The first is a traditional desert aviary – beautifully landscaped, though I have to admit I was disappointed by how few birds I actually saw in it.  I’d been really looking forward to this exhibit as a chance to see some local desert birds that I had never seen before.  Instead, I saw some quail, a few ducks, and cardinals. 

I was far, far more impressed with the hummingbird aviary.  I’m from a part of the country with a single species of hummingbird, and almost never see any – of any species – in zoos.  Here, there were a half-dozen species, flitting around beautiful to the obvious delight of visitors.  In the wild, my views of these birds have always been very fleeting, barley registering them as birds instead of, I don’t know, very fast butterflies.  I was surprised at how well I was able to observe the birds here, seeing several of them actually perching, which let me get very good looks at them from surprisingly close-up.  If there was one thing I would have changed about this aviary, it would have been better identification signage.  Even with all the pictures I took, I’m still not sure what some of the species I saw in there were. 

At certain times of the year, even more birds can be seen in a beautiful free-flight demonstration with Harris’ hawks and other native raptors.


Again, it is worth remembering that the campus is more than a zoo – it is also an art gallery, geological museum, and, perhaps above all else, a botanical garden.  Besides the natural landscaping, which provides an excellent opportunity to see animals in their natural habitat, there are several themed, planned gardens, such as agave, cacti, and pollinators.  Not only do these gardens serve an educational and aesthetic purpose, they also serve to draw more native wildlife to the grounds and provide suitable habitat.

What struck me as odd as I walked around the grounds of the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum was how little I had heard about it lately.  When I was younger, just beginning to seriously delve into the world of zoos, it seemed like I read about it in every book I took home from the library – how progressive it was, how it was the future of zoos, etc, etc.  I don’t hear nearly so much about it anymore.

Part of that, I suspect, is that we often hear about zoos and aquariums as they expand and grow, and the ASDM does relatively little of that.  It has a pretty narrow focus, so it’s limited into how much it could add on or change its collection.  There’s nothing wrong with that, of course.  It just makes it harder to stay in the news when so many other facilities (including neighboring Reid Park Zoo and Phoenix Zoo) are growing and changing constantly.

Also, to be honest, some of the exhibits have aged poorly, and while they may have been beautiful and revolutionary when they opened, seem a little dull now.  Life Underground was the biggest offender in my book, but Cat Canyon underwhelmed me also, and even the large carnivore exhibits in the Mountain Woodland paled in comparison to the beautiful habitats for coyotes and peccaries in the Desert Loop.  There is a limit to how much change the museum will actually see, but I think freshening up and redoing some of those habitats would make a huge improvement, both in terms of the visitor experience and animal husbandry.

It would have been almost impossible for the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum to live up to all of the hype I had in my mind, though I did still enjoy it very much.  Partially it was the innovative exhibits, such as the hummingbird aviary and Life on the Rocks.  Part of it was the chance to see so many smaller, cryptic native species that I had never seen anywhere else, such as the grasshopper mouse, elf owl, and Sonoran green toad, to name a few.  Largely, it was an expression of how happy I was to see in person a concept that I had always admired – the marriage of the zoo, aquarium, botanical garden, and geological/natural history museum.  I feel like the concept could be expanded on even more, tying in the history and anthropology of the region (done tastefully, in cooperation and under the supervision of local First Nations, for example). 

I came to the Desert Museum as a zoo professional, and it was the animals that I was most excited to see.  An ecosystem is more than her animals, though – it’s the combination of all of the living and nonliving factors, blended in harmony.   The Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum does a great job of teaching that lesson.

PS: One final word of advice.  All of the animals seen in this facility are native to the Sonora.  They are able to survive here, in many cases, by not being active during hot midday periods, either sleeping in the shade, hiding underground, or whatever.  Plan your visit accordingly.  This might not be a best place to visit on a July noon.

Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum

Zoo Review: Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, Part I

Zoos and aquariums provide an amazing opportunity for visitors to engage with wildlife from around the globe.    As exciting as it can be to learn about foreign lands and exotic animals, it’s also worth reminding visitors that they can find amazing animals far closer to home, sometimes in their own backyards.  Many zoos feature displays themed around native wildlife, from Condor Ridge at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park to the Louisiana Swamp at the Audubon Zoo.

In my opinion, no zoo does a better, more comprehensive job of highlighting local species than the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, located just outside of Tucson, Arizona.

As the name implies, the ASDM isn’t just a zoo.  It’s also a botanical garden, geological museum, and art gallery, perhaps being the best example of what former director of the National Zoo Dr. Theodore Reed called the Biopark Concept.  Founded in 1952, it’s relatively compact 21 acre campus offers a comprehensive exploration of life in the Sonora Desert.  This is especially true as the grounds themselves are part of the Sonora, studded with saguaros and populated by a host of desert wildlife species.  Sometimes it can be difficult to tell where the exhibits end and the wild begins.

After entering the facility, visitors will find themselves between the two major indoor exhibits of the museum.  The first is perhaps the one that visitors would least expect to encounter at a Desert Museum – the Warden Aquarium.  Even in desert habitats (perhaps especially in desert habitats), water is life, and this small aquarium houses fish and marine invertebrates that are found in the rivers that water the Sonora, as well as the Gulf of California, where they empty into the Sea.  Seahorses, pufferfish, and garden eels populate the small tanks here.  Suspended from the ceiling is a life-sized replica of the region’s most endangered species – the vaquita.  Efforts to save this tiny porpoise from extinction have all but failed, and its doom seems at hand.  It’s sobering to think that soon, replicas like this will be all that remain.

I normally don’t make much of a mention of visitor facilities, such as concessions and gift shops, when reviewing zoos, but in this case I’ll make an exception.  Adjacent to the Warden Aquarium is the museum’s gift shop, which includes its bookstore.  If I hadn’t been pressed for time (and money) I could easily have spent hours browsing in there.  There were fascinating books on every aspect of the Sonora Desert, from botany and zoology (of course) to archaeology, anthropology, and history.  I would have needed to buy an extra bookshelf for all of the books I would have liked to have taken home with me.

Across from the aquarium is the Reptile, Invertebrates, and Amphibians Hall, an amazingly complete collection with virtually every species you could expect to find here.  The most celebrated animals here will be the Sonora’s most infamous reptiles, the beautiful but venomous Gila monsters, as well as the representative species of rattlesnakes.  There are also a host of other frogs, toads, lizards, and snakes, along with a wall stacked with display cases of the tarantulas, scorpions, centipedes, and other arthropods that call the desert home.  The diversity of the collection is staggering. 

I could easily picture how this room might be dull to a layperson – many of the species (and their habitats) look quite similar to one another, and I’m sure that 90% of visitors would be just as happy with a much smaller, representative collection.  As someone who is not from the region (as is the case for many of the visitors), I really enjoyed the chance to see so many animals that I was never able to see during my short hikes through the region.  I suspect that even many of the long-time residents of the region would be surprised at the diversity, beauty, and yes, sometimes scariness who what scurries or slithers unseen, underfoot.  Perhaps some of them are happier not knowing…

This review is naturally going to be more strongly focused on the zoological aspects of ASDM, but the gemstone and fossil collections are pretty spectacular too.  Visitors can explore a replica of a limestone cave, check out a mine dump, or look at the fossils in the Ancient Arizona gallery.  The later has a special focus on Sonorasaurus, a sauropod (Brontosaurus-like) dinosaur from the late Cretaceous which once called this landscape home.  It’s a great reminder for visitors that the wildlife of a landscape doesn’t just include the species that live there now – Arizona’s zoology extends back millions of years.

Most of the Museum’s largest animals are in the Mountain Woodland trail, a looping path that meanders through several rocky habitats.  The three largest carnivores of the region – American black bear, Mexican gray wolf, and puma – can be seen across moated yards (the puma can also be viewed up close through windows).   Historically the ASDM also featured the remaining large carnivore of the region, the jaguar, but no longer does.  Situated among the carnivores are small habitats tucked into the rockwork, housing North American porcupine and long-eared owls.  At the bottom of trail, a small herd of mule deer grazes in their yard, seemingly blissfully unaware of the presence of their natural predators just a few yards away.

The tour of the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum will continue tomorrow!

Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum

Scar Tissue

"Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.  The events that cause them can never be forgotten, can they?"

- Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses

I was working quietly in the back of the animal holding building when I heard the yelp.  It wasn't quite a scream - more like a sharp gasp of mixed surprise, fear, and pain.  Hurrying over, I saw our newest keeper standing in an enclosure with our 12 foot Burmese python.  The snake's recurved teeth were embedded in the keeper's calf, and thin streams of blood were beginning to trickle downward.  The snake, normally one of our most placid, showed no signs of constricting, but neither did she seemed inclined to let go. 

Climbing into the enclosure, I radioed for backup, just in case, and climbed in beside them.  Taking the snake's head, I gently eased her teeth out, then separated keeper from snake.  Then, I held the snake securely while the keeper made his exit, not releasing the snake until he was well clear.

By the time we had the chance to start cleaning the many little wounds left by the teeth, the keeper had transitioned from terrified to giddy.  As I swabbed with alcohol, he chatted enthusiastically about his idea of going to a tattooist and having the outline of the bite inked onto his leg.  Fortunately for him, the bite was a fairly superficial one, and had completely faded before he could put the plan into practice.  Not all of my coworkers have been so lucky.

I consider myself grateful that I've never lost a coworker or colleague on the job.  Many of us have had close calls of some sort.  Some pass you by without leaving a mark - it's like if you were crossing the street and a car suddenly zoomed by, almost hitting you.  You almost died, sure, but five seconds later, no one looking at you would have ever known.  Now, replaced "street" with "hoofstock yard"... and "car" with "bull eland."

Other injuries leave their mark.  I've met keepers who are missing fingers, or can't use a finger or a wrist very well due to an injury.  Maybe it was a once friendly chimpanzee that nipped away the tip of a finger, or a rescue eagle that locked its talons into the unsuitably-gloved arm of a rescuer (who then needed a rescuer of his own).

I've collected a few scars over my career, none very big or noticeable, and usually only visible in certainly light.  Unlike my colleague of the python infamy, neither are ones that I'm especially proud of, because to me, both reflect errors, not adventures.  One was the result of me not having a secure enough grip on an animal during a medical procedure.  The other was a result of having too great a familiarity with an animal that I thought was friendly.  Both could have been avoided if I had been better at my job.  Both were in the early days of my career, when I was experienced enough to be a little cocky and sure of myself, but not experienced enough to know exactly how to be safe.

Thankfully, neither of these scars are prominent enough that people see them, and one is almost completely faded.  Neither got much attention from colleagues, which allowed me to at least escape with my dignity.



One curator I know wasn't as lucky, and had his hand mangled pretty badly by a female crocodile monitor that he was attempting to catch up.  I'm still not sure who took the pictures, but photos on his hand spread across the zoo reptile community; my own curator at the time printed one out and taped it to the door of our own croc monitor enclosure as a warning to the rest of us.  The afflicted curator had to deal with a lot of cracks (or at least nosy questions) about his hand for some time after.

Which, I suppose, is one advantage of scars.  At the very least, they can serve as a cautionary tale.

Sporcle Quiz: Sporcle at the Zoo - Snow Leopard

It's starting to get cold out there, which puts me in the mind of cold-weather animals (you know, the ones who are actually enjoying themselves in this frozen hellscape).  Chief among them is my favorite of the big cats, the snow leopard.  Enjoy learning all about these mysterious mountain cats in the latest addition to our Sporcle at the Zoo series!

Sporcle at the Zoo - Snow Leopard

Vote for the Zoo

This past Tuesday was Election Day, though you'd be excused for not noticing.  I know I barely did.  With so much focus on November 2020, when the White House and Congress are at stake, it can be easy to forget that there were many elections taking place this week.  A few, such as the Kentucky governor race, made national news.  Most were quiet, local elections.  As a result, surprisingly few people vote in these off-year elections.


As they say, all politics is local politics.  That's especially true for zoos and aquariums.  President Trump - or a possible President Biden, Warren, or Sanders - would definitely make decisions concerning that have the potential to influence zoos economically, environmentally, or in any number of ways.   In these cases, the zoo or aquarium would be one tiny aspect being impacted by decisions made far away.  More important to the day-to-day running or facilities, and their futures, are the decisions that come out of local elections. 


Many zoos and aquariums are non-profits and receive at least some tax dollars to keep in operation.  Some (not nearly as many as there once were, but still plenty) are actually run entirely by local governments, be they a city, county, or state, and are subject to the whims of elected leaders.  All zoos are subject to local regulations, be they construction permits, zoning regulations, or what have you.  In natural disasters, they may be reliant on local authorities for help.  All of these are great reasons why zoos and aquariums need to be involved in local politics.


Directors and board members should be well-familiar with elected officials and bureaucrats.  Invite them on tours.  Explain our missions.  Help them see how the wellbeing of the zoo or aquarium can positively impact the community, whether through direct economic impact (businesses supported, tourism dollars attracted, jobs created) or quality of life for residents.  Make sure they understand our challenges. Don't let it happen that they first time they hear our names is when we come around with a begging sack.


The Cameron Park Zoo in Waco, Texas, was one of the winners this past week.  They brought home a $14.5 million dollar bond, which will go towards a much-needed new vet hospital, as well as new exhibits.  Akron Zoo in Ohio is up to bat next year with a levy request. 


In a small town where I used to work, a mayoral candidate loudly derided his opponent, the incumbent, for wanting to engage in "wasteful" spending to improve the zoo and city park.  This challenger was trounced, badly.  I'm not saying it was because of the zoo, but I like to think that helped.

Satire: Fun and Games at the Dallas Zoo

From the Facebook page "Obvious Plant":

The Little Giants

"Undoubtedly, philosophers are in the right when they tell us that nothing is great or little otherwise than by comparison."

 

- Jonathan Swift, Gulliver's Travels

 

On the pet trade, in which it is not uncommonly found, the African bullfrog is sometimes called the pixie frog.  This is largely done as a short-hand for its scientific name, Pyxicephalus adspersus.  It also has an ironic second-meaning.  It's hard to imagine any animal looking less like a pixie than a squat, football-sized frog that will readily devour members of its own species.

 

The pixie isn't even the largest frog or toad in the world.  That honor belongs to the goliath frog of Cameroon, which is the size of an admittedly very small dog.  I've never seen a live one in the flesh - the species has a reputation of being easily stressed and does poorly under human care (though you can read all about an expedition to capture these massive amphibians and bring them back to the Bronx Zoo in You Belong In A  Zoo! by Peter Brazaitis).  I remember seeing my first pictures of one when I was in elementary school - the frog in the photo was a stuffed museum specimen that was stuffing itself even further with a stuffed rat.  It made quite an impression on a kid who spent many of his weekend hours trying to catch far smaller frogs out of the ditch in the backyard.

 

 

A frog the size of a dog seems unreal... until you realize that there are spiders with leg-spans that would overflow a full-sized dinner plate.  There are snails the size of your head, and millipedes the size of hotdogs, and crickets the size of mice.  All of that is ignoring my favorite giant, a salamander the size of a toddler.

 

There are few things more disconcerting than something that is *supposed to be* very small unexpectedly being very, very big.  I can't even think of an accurate natural reverse scenario.  Imagine an adult elephant small enough to put up in your arms.  That's how unreal these animals seem to me.  Granted, if an elephant that small actually existed, an African bullfrog would probably try to eat it, possibly choking in the process.

 

I've never seen a goliath frog in a zoo, nor do I expect to any time soon (though I've been wrong before - I certainly never expected to see Titicaca water frogs in American zoos, and yet I have twice in the last year).  I have, however, seen plenty of African bullfrogs, along with giant salamanders, giant millipedes, and goliath bird-eating spiders, along with a host of other "small giants," and they are awesome to behold in real life.  Some of them I've even gotten to handle directly. 

 

These creatures, especially when displayed alongside their smaller, more conventional relatives, can be a great addition to any educational facility.  It's important to present them not as freaks kept for shock-value, but as unique, special creatures, each highlighting the variety and diversity of the natural world, and each serving as a reminder of how important it is to protect that variety and biodiversity.

Species Fact Profile: African Bullfrog (Pyxicephalus adspersus

African Bullfrog

Pyxicephalus adspersus (Tschudi, 1838)

Range: Sub-Saharan Africa
Habitat: Grasslands, Wetlands, Woodland
Diet: Tadpoles eat vegetation and small invertebrates.  Adults eat invertebrates and small vertebrates, such as rodents, snakes, and small birds
Social Grouping: Solitary outside of mating congregations
Reproduction: Breed after heavy rains, gathering in bodies of water.  Males congregate and call for females, who usually mate with the biggest males.  Females lay 3000-4000 eggs, which are guarded by the males, even after hatching.  Metamorphosis takes place three weeks after hatching
Lifespan: 15 Years (up to 35 years)
Conservation Status: IUCN Least Concern

• Males may grow up to 23 centimeters in length and weigh up to 2 kilograms (usually about 1.5 kilograms).  Females are about half that size - unusual, as in most species of frogs, females grow larger than males
• The body is olive green (sometimes appearing brown, grey, or even blue) with ridges running down the length of the body.  The forelimbs turn bright yellow in breeding males.  Juveniles have a pale stripe running down the length of the spine, fading with age
• Both adults and tadpoles may practice cannibalism; larger males may eat smaller males during breeding congregations, and newly-hatched tadpoles may eat their siblings.  Guarding fathers may eat some of their tadpoles
• Males that are left to guard their tadpoles may find themselves in pools that are drying out before the tadpoles are ready to leave the water.  They may dig canals from their pools to larger bodies of water to save the young from drying out
• Found in a wide variety of climates, some of which only allow the frog to be active for a portion of the year.  In dry conditions, adults will bury themselves, using tubercles on the back legs.  Then, they may shed several layers of skin to form a cocoon, helping them preserve moisture, while bodily functions slow down to help conserve energy.  Frogs may stay underground for up to a year
• To hunt, the frog will often lie underground with only the nose exposed, waiting for small animals to approach

From the News: Mystic Aquarium Expecting 5 Belugas From Canada For Study

Mystic Aquarium Expecting 5 Belugas From Canada For Study

An interesting follow-up to Friday's post.  So many animals can be difficult to study in the wild.  Zoos, besides serving as modern arks, can be living laboratories, where data can be collected and research techniques honed before being applied to wild individuals.  Belugas are somewhat misleadingly labeled as a species of Least Concern by the IUCN, but their numbers are in decline, and we need to know more to understand why.  The best time to start saving an endangered species is, as I've said before, before it becomes endangered.

Knowing the Unknown at the Zoo

"There are known knowns; there are things we know we know.  We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know.  But there are also unknown unknowns - the ones we don't know we don't know."

- Donald Rumsfeld, US Secretary of Defense

Zoo animal research skewed towards 'popular' species

Every month, I write two or three new species fact profiles for the blog.  I consider it a fun opportunity for me to share a few amazing but lesser-known animals with the readers, as well as a chance for me to learn a little about those animals myself.  Often, the biggest challenge I have is that very, very little is known about many of these animals, either in the wild or in the zoo. 





In recent years, zoos have begun to place so much focus on their missions of conserving wildlife and inspiring people to care about wildlife that it seems like the goals of education and research have taken back seats... or been left behind as the car sped away.  There is so much that we can learn about animals in our care that we don't yet know, including knowledge which could help conserve the species in the wild.


We already have employees who are knowledgeable about animals, inspired to learn about them, frequently are well education, and who tend to be very keen observers.  Due to severe staffing shortages caused by the inevitable lack of money, what they don't often have is the crucial factor of "time."  Whenever possible, zoos and aquariums should try to set time aside for their staff to pursue research, both in the library (I feel like zoos really need to go back to maintaining staff libraries, as virtually all of them used to do), online, or out with the animals, collecting data.  Docents, volunteers, interns, and students - graduate, undergraduate, and even high school - can be recruited to help collect data.

This isn't just about research for research's sake.  We have the potential to learn so much more about the phyisiology, reproduction, nutrition, and behavior of animals, data that could be very difficult or expensive to obtain in the vastly-diminishing wild.  The founders of many zoos envisioned them as places of scientific learning.  I think that's a legacy that we should revisit.