Final Thoughts from Maya Angelou

Every zoo and aquarium professional that I have ever worked with has wanted one thing (well, two if you count "the occasional cost of living raise").  That is - to provide the best possible care for their animals, to know that the animals are happy and healthy.  Figuring out what that entails has always been the tricky part.  Things that used to be considered best practices - keeping animals in sterile, easily cleaned enclosures, hand-rearing most infants to keep them safe - are now viewed as antiquated and best left in the past (though there are occasions when both of those examples may still be necessary).

We're constantly learning more about the animals we work with, and that means that we are constantly finding new ways to improve their care, whether it be nutritionally, socially, behaviorally, or through better habitats.  It reminds me of a great quote from the poet Maya Angelou, that I frequently hear members of the procession use:

We can only know better by asking ourselves questions - sometimes hard or uncomfortable ones - about the welfare of our animals.  And more importantly, we have to be willing to listen to the answers.

Voicing Concerns

The idea behind AZA's new animal welfare rules is that every animal in the collection should receive an objective analysis of its well-being at least once a year.  That's just for routine check ups, of course.  There are other times when staff may want to assess an animal's quality of life.  Maybe it's recovering from a medical concern, or going through some social changes, or something just feels off.

Sometimes these changes can be very obvious.  If an animal is part of a mated pair and its mate passes away, it stands to reason that there may be a cause for concern.  Other times, it may be more subtle.  In those situations, the most likely person to find something wrong, the first line of defense is the person closest to the animal - the keeper.  

Of course, managers don't always listen to people on the ground, and zookeeping is no exception.  As such, a zoo should have a program in place for keepers to voice their concerns about issues that may compromise animal welfare.  Ideally, the system would be anonymous so keepers could blow whistles without worries about reprisals from managers (but that is unlikely - with the size of most zoos, there are only so many people who are likely to raise a specific concern about a specific animal).

Welfare concerns that are raised by staff, anonymous or otherwise, should be acknowledged by management and addressed within a timely fashion

There are few things more personal for a keeper than the care that they provide their animals... and that goes double for managers, who set the standards and guidelines for care.  Criticizing this care, or even implying that care isn't meeting the top standards, can really ruffle some feathers and offend people.  I get it.  

I've gotten pretty miffed when other keepers have suggested that I could do better.  Often, I felt that they were wrong.  Sometimes, they were right.  I would never be able to tell the difference unless I stop and really listen.   What's true on a personal level is equally true on an institutional one.

Book Review: The Tower, The Zoo, and The Tortoise

Pity poor Balthazar Jones. 

A warder, or beefeater, at the Tower of London, Jones has watched stoically as his life – and marriage – have deteriorated steadily since the unexpected death of his young son.   Now, he goes through life in a dream-like stupor, his only interests being his pet tortoise and his newfound fascination with collecting and cataloging types of rain.   When he is finally called onto the carpet of his boss’s office, it is with the expectation that he will finally be fired.

A very different, much less predictable path presents itself.

In the alternate, fictitious world of Julia Stuart, explored in her novel The Tower, The Zoo, and The Tortoise, Queen Elizabeth II has made the most unexpected decision to restore a forgotten piece of the Tower of London’s ancient history – its zoo.  Having recently found herself buried under an avalanche of diplomatic animal gifts from various heads of state from around the globe, HRH decides to put her royal pets in a different setting than the London Zoo.  Having heard of Jones and his long-lived pet tortoise, she decides that he is the man for the job, and quickly commissions the construction of a new menagerie at the Tower. 

Wild animals in makeshift facilities cared for by someone with a passing familiarity with them (in that he has heard of, at least, some of them before they arrived), set in the middle of one of the biggest tourist attractions in one of the biggest cities in the world.

It goes about as well as you would expect, or slightly better than it probably would in real life.

Animals escape.  Animals fight.  Animals cause mischief with antics that most zookeepers would take in stride but which are perhaps not what your average beefeater had in mind when he took the job.   The menagerie becomes increasingly popular and grows.

The animals provide much of the comedy of the novel, but much of the book’s drama is focused around the human characters.  The crumbling marriage of Balthazar and his Greek wife, Hebe, is a central pillar of the book, as the reader is left to wonder how two people drifted so far apart, and whether there is any way that the novelist can nudge them back together.  There is also the rest of the Tower’s human occupants, from a lovelorn preacher who dabbles in written erotica to a vengeful Ravenmaster who is convinced that one of the newfangled animal attractions is responsible for the death of one of his charges, as well as the bizarre circus that is Hebe’s job at the London Underground Lost Property Office.

When I picked Ms. Stuart’s novel off of a library shelf, I’d assumed that it was going to be a period story, set from anywhere between the Middle Ages and the Victorian Era, that would deal with the actual, historical menagerie.  Nope.  This is better.  A lot less realistic, but very humorous and enjoyable.  You certainly won’t learn much about animals from it – and even less about proper zookeeping (I actually cringed at the ongoing plot arc about a pair of albatrosses that are separated by the formation of the new menagerie – one, owned by the Queen, moves to the Tower while it’s mate is left at the London Zoo.  Both birds pine pitifully for each other.  I mean, come on, either leave both or bring both!)

Little fiction about animals is actually about animals, of course.  In most fiction, the animals are introduced to help the author teach us more about ourselves (though you will learn a decent amount about the Tower of London itself).  It’s a fun read – just try not to take it too seriously… I’m certain that the author does.

The Tower, The Zoo, and The Tortoise at Amazon.com

The Rights of Others

Animal welfare is perhaps the most important topic of conversation among zoo and aquarium professionals.  We should constantly be striving to find ways to improve standards of care for the animals that live in our institutions, both physically and behaviorally.  

Public conversations about animal welfare are often confused with those concerning another topic, one that the public might be a fair bit more familiar with - animal rights.

Many people use the terms interchangeably, but there are major differences between the zoo.

Zoos, aquariums, and other animal caretakers subscribe to a worldview of animal welfare.  Welfare is a scientific, data-driven analysis of an animal's well-being.  An animal's welfare is situated on a continuum of positive to negative.  An animal welfare worldview is one that holds that humans have an obligation to continually try to be better stewards of animals, learning how to do better meet their needs.

Animal rights, in contrast, is a more emotionally-driven philosophy that believes that non-human animals should be given the same legal rights and considerations as humans.  Under this philosophy, it is not our place to treat animals well, because thy are not ours to treat in one way or another.  Any exercise of human control over animals is a form of exploitation.  A believer in animal rights would not support eating animals or their products (milk, eggs, even honey), wearing animal products such as wool or fur, or the experimentation of animals for medicinal reasons.  Keeping animals under human care, such as in zoos or aquariums would also be opposed.  Taking this philosophy to its full conclusion would mean no keeping of pets.

A lot of people use "animal rights" to denote any support for any positive change for animals or treat them well.  I've met a few zookeepers who describe themselves as "animal rights activists," even though that is diametrically opposed to what they do at the zoo.  I had a college friend who swore that she was an animal rights activist - even though she was a devoted equestrian.  Animal rights does not hold with sitting on the back of another animal and being carried around for fun and exercise.

Animal rights isn't just opposed to horseback-riding, farming, and zookeeping.  It also can prove problematic to reconcile with conservation.  Wildlife conservation is about the greater good of a species, which can sometimes mean hard choices with negative impacts for individuals.  Reintroducing wolves to Yellowstone can negatively impact the "rights" of elk to live free from fear of being eaten.  Culling invasive or overpopulated species may improve the health of the ecosystem, but deprive those individual animals of the "right" to life.  Taking animals into captivity to start a breeding program takes away their "right" to liberty.

For these reasons, among others, I've never been able to subscribe to this worldview.  I firmly believe that the well-being of animals should be based on scientific fact, measurable outcomes, and a commitment to the greater good, of the ecosystem, the species, and, when possible, the individual - but in that order.  That's why I believe in animal welfare.  Whether they are familiar with the term or not, so do most people I know, too.

Species Fact Profile: Common Snake-Necked Turtle

Common (Eastern, Australian) Snake-Necked Turtle

Chelodina longicollis (Shaw, 1794)

Range: Southeastern Australia
Habitat: Wetlands, Slow-Moving Streams and Rivers
Diet: Aquatic Insects and other Invertebrates, Tadpoles, Frogs, Small Fish
Social Grouping: Solitary
Reproduction: Breed from September through October, with nesting from October through December.  8-24 eggs laid in nests close to the water; females may lay up to three clutches per year.  Incubation lasts 120-150 days.  Males reach maturity at 7-8 years, females at 10-12 years
Lifespan: 30-35 Years
Conservation Status: IUCN Least Concern

• Shell length 18-28 centimeters, with females growing larger than males, weigh 440-820 grams.  The neck may grow to be up to two-thirds the length of the shell - so long that it cannot be pulled into the shell, and must be wrapped around the side.  Feet are webbed and clawed
• Carapace (top shell) is black or dark brown in color; the plastron (bottom shell) is yellow or cream in color with dark edges.  Exposed skin is grayish-black in color (also lighter on the underside), covered with small wart-like tubercles
• Males have longer, thinner tails than females
• Primary sedentary, but become more active, inclined to travel during breeding season.  Animals living in permanent bodies of water are active year round.  Those that live in seasonal water bodies may aestivate, sheltering under rocks or logs until the rains come
• Ambush predator, seizes prey with quick lunge with long neck, or opens mouth suddenly creating a vacuum to suck in small prey items
• If threatened, they will emit a foul odor from the musk glands, earning this species the nickname of "stinker."  Predators include water rats, ravens, birds of prey, dingoes, and monitor lizards, as well as introduced red foxes.
• One of over a dozen species of snake-necked turtles.  Hybridize readily with other snake-necked turtles (such as C. canni, Cann's snake-necked turtle) where they overlap

Expedia Weighs In

As the public discussion about the welfare of wild animals under human care intensifies, every company that is even tangentially related to the issue is being forced to decide how to respond.  In the wake of the Blackfish controversy, for example, SeaWorld lost many sponsors and corporate partners.  Today, one of the biggest names in the travel industry, Expedia, announced their new policy on working with institutions that house wild animals.  It is, as follows:

The Welfare State at the Zoo

"ANIMAL WELFARE/WELLNESS: an animal's (or group of animals) collective physical and mental states over a period of time, and measured on a continuum from good to poor."

"1.5.0. The institution must have a process for assessing animal welfare and wellness.  This process should be both proactive and reactive, transparent to stakeholders, and include staff or consultants knowledgeable in assessing quality of life for animals showing signs of physical or mental distress or decline.  The process should also include a mechanism to identify and evaluate the welfare/wellness impacts of significant life events or changes in the animal's environment as identified by the individual institution.  Examples of life events/changes could include construction events, unusual weather events, noise intrusion, change in housing, or changes in animals exhibited with or nearby, etc."

- 2020 AZA Accreditation Standards & Related Policies

As I found with the green-winged macaws on my last day of work, it's depressingly easy for some animals to slip through the cracks.  The non-squeaky wheels who never are calling out for oil, who seem to do "fine" with minimal effort, and who never have major veterinary problems are easy to overlook.  One day, if you're not careful, a major problem can unfold over them, and you'll be gob-smacked, wondering where it came from and why you never saw it coming.

The answer will usually be, "Because you weren't looking."

To prevent occurrences like that, the Association of Zoos and Aquariums has recently instituted mandatory welfare check policies for all animals in their member institutions.  It requires animal staff - a mixture of keepers, managers, and veterinary staff - to inspect each animal (or, in some cases, such as a school of fish, group of animals), judging their care from a variety of angles, which should include (but might not be limited to):

- Physical Health: good physical condition, body weight, absence of pain, disease, or injury

- Diet: analyzed for nutritional content, diversity, and promotion of natural feeding behaviors

- Social: proper social group (which may be "solitary"), access to (and away from) other members of the group, as deemed appropriate

- Behavioral: chance to express natural behaviors, training and enrichment program, appropriate sleep-and-awake periods

- Enclosure: physical environment is of a size and type to keep the animal safe (includes protection from the elements and mitigating risk of escape) while allowing it to engage in natural behaviors.

The inspectors should have a way to quantify their answers to the questions they are asking, be it Yes/No, or on a numeric scale.  This will help them objectively look at the different aspects of animal welfare and ask, "Are we meeting the needs of this animal?"  Different categories may be needed to assess the welfare needs of animals in different circumstances, such as those that live in an animal contact yard or feeding aviary, or animal ambassadors that routinely travel off-grounds to meet the public.

 While these are standards unique to AZA, they sum up criteria of care that all animal caretakers should think about.  Even if you are a dog or cat owner, it's worth taking a step back every now and then to reassess the care you provide your pet.  Maybe you don't need a formal schedule and a numeric scale, but you should look at the various aspects of your pet's care (is the diet good, when did we last do a vet check up, is it too cold to be out in the yard tonight?) to make sure that all of the animal's needs are being met.

Everyone wants to believe that they are providing good care for their pet, but without careful checking of every facet, it can be difficult to verify that you're providing great welfare.

Almost inevitably, you will find some areas that are coming up short.  That's not a failure - that's a sign that the welfare checks are working and identifying areas of improvement.  What determines whether the process is a success or failure is how you respond to it. 



Zoo Review: Anonymous

This month's zoo review is going to be a little different from the others... since I'm not naming the zoo in question.  I debated this for a while, but it's a zoo (what many would call the epitome of a roadside zoo) which has been in the news for years due to its questionable animal care practices.  The owner is known to be quite combative and litigious, so I'm leaving it unnamed for now.  If at the end you feel like you need to make sure you avoid it, I'll provide some tips for how.

As a quick overview, this is a location in the rural American south, about three hours drive from the nearest major city, located along an interstate.  That doesn't really narrow the field of candidates down too much though, to be honest.

I'd long been driving to and fro past this facility, traveling between my not-that-zoo job and home for visits.  When I switched zoos and realized that I might never drive by again, I bit the bullet and decided to pay a visit.  I figured it would be educational if nothing else.  It sure was.

I was admittedly surprised by the quality of the collection.  There were a fair number of species there that I hadn't expected to see in such a shabby place.  The bird collection was particularly impressive  - there were red-breasted geese, Chilean flamingos (a sign boasted that the zoo was the first in the state to breed flamingos), white-naped cranes, and a cassowary.  The later made a major impression on me - mostly because, more on a foolish whim, I was able to touch it.  It was idiotic on my part, but I was pretty young and stupid at the point, and it was mostly because I really was in disbelief that I, some random guy, would be able to walk right up to the exhibit, with no secondary barrier, and reach through the seemingly inadequate fencing to touch what is often regarded as the world's most dangerous bird.  I wasn't a complete moron, so I'd stationed myself safely so I was just stroking the back (at arm's length, too).  If I'd wanted to, I could have touched the head or neck... or the lethal feet.

The hoofstock collection was also pretty decent, kept in a series of barnyard like paddocks more adequate for goats and sheep than kudu, oryx, and other African antelope, as well as giraffes.  There was also a large domestic collection.  Many calves were in evidence, the zoo's "proof" that the animals were happy and well-cared for.  In reality, many unaccredited zoos breed to surplus often.  Some go to other zoos.  Others go to... well, who really knows where? 

The carnivores - tigers (including several white), lions, and Asian black bears - were kept in relatively small, unimpressive cages, heavily-fenced and with not much in the way of furniture other than sleeping shelves (though I was surprised that they at least had grass growing in them).  I'd noticed on previous drives by that the tigers were visible from the road (not the interstate itself, but a small road where tourists would pull-off for gas and meals), perhaps intentionally placed there as a living billboard.  As with hoofstock, many carnivores are bred here - many hand-raised for photo-ops while they are still young and tractable before being sold or moving into an exhibit role.

The primate cages struck me as the least suitable for all - essentially round metal cages produced by the Behlen Company, often called "corn-cribs" in the zoo community (one is visible in the background of the above tiger photo, with a blue and pink striped roof).  I've used them myself, both for exhibits and for off-exhibit holding, and in some situations that are perfectly adequate... but not for larger primates, such as spider monkeys and gibbons.  Furnishings were sparse, and I saw minimal evidence of enrichment.  The small "reptile house" - a store front with windows set in for a hodgepodge of lizards, snakes, and turtles, with a few small mammals filling in empty spots left a lot to be desired.  There seemed to be limited opportunity for hiding, thermoregulation, and other natural behaviors.

The zoo's most famous occupant is a lone African elephant, available for rides.  There is no part of that that seemed ideal to me, but mostly the "lone" part.  Not surprisingly, the elephant has been the lightning rod for most of the criticism that this zoo faces.

I can't say I approved much of my visit, though I am glad that I made it.  It's important to see the other side of the coin of American zoos, though a better analogy might be that it was further down the continuum.  There certainly are far-worse facilities in the US, such as many of those highlighted in the From the News feature a few days back... but that doesn't mean that this is ideal, or even acceptable.  They may meet USDA standards, but to my mind that's just evidence that USDA needs to tighten those standards up - maybe not all the way to AZA accreditation standards, but at least acknowledging that a big cat enclosure should be more than 300 square feet.

In the age of the internet, it's a lot easier to do research about what kind of zoo or aquarium you are supporting.  My role is, if they are AZA-accredited (or whatever the national accrediting body is - EAZA, ARAZPA, etc), I trust them.  That's not to say that I never see things I don't completely approve of there, but I will trust that animal welfare and facilities are good enough.  If they are not AZA (and I've been to some lovely, wonderful unaccredited facilities), then I do some research - read online reviews, look at their website and facebook page, maybe even read a USDA report, which is a publicly accessible. 

The former can be the least-reliable: I've seen plenty of people who posted adoring reviews of zoos where they could bottle feed tiger cubs in their laps, while derisively complaining about excellent zoos because they couldn't see the animals in larger, more natural enclosures, and somehow decided that they weren't happy there.  Remember, these sketchy places stay in business because people enjoy them, and they will do so until the public starts voting with their feet... and their wallets.

The Zoo By the Side of the Road

The Dallas Zoo, one of the largest in the state of Texas, is fairly neatly split in two by a road.  On one side of the highway is ZooNorth, the old portion of the zoo, which is still the nexus of its bird, reptile, and primate collections, as well as the Children's Zoo.  To get the newer half of the zoo, home to Wilds of Africa with its gorillas, hippos, elephants, and giraffes, visitors must take an underpass that tunnels beneath a busy highway.  Sometimes, you can hear the rumble of traffic overhead as you walk through.

Despite this, I've never heard anyone refer to Dallas as "a roadside zoo."

"Roadside Zoo," like "Bunny Hugger," is something of a dirty slur in the zoo community.  The difference between the two is that "Roadside Zoo" has entered the common vernacular.  In their various writings and musings, PETA, Humane Society of the United States, and the Animal Legal Defense Fund, among others, rail against "roadside zoos."  AZA-accredited facilities seek to differentiate themselves from "roadside zoos."  The news media will use the term freely, as it did in the news articles I shared earlier this week.  Even the USDA uses the term - but it is never defined.

The only thing that everyone agrees on (to the extent that animal people ever agree on anything) is that they are bad.  No one wants their facility to be called a roadside zoo.

If I had to paint a picture of a roadside zoo in the US, based on the general consensus of opinion, it's that it is an unaccredited facility (by AZA, but depending on your definition, not by the unaffiliated ZAA either).  They are usually located in rural areas, typically along interstates, with most of their visitors coming in the form of travelers who are stopping in for some quick diversion from the road, rather than local communities or tourists.  They tend to be poorly built - think 2 x 4's and chicken-wire or hog-paneling, with relatively small enclosures that make little attempt to appear naturalistic.  Enrichment and training are minimal, and the staff stereotypically has little formal training or education.  They are generally privately owned and run for profit.

What's In a Word: Why It's Time to Retire "Roadside Zoo" 

- by Rachel Garner, Why Animals Do The Thing

The accreditation item one is one of the few solid, objective statements, but it's problematic.  Did the Mill Mountain Zoo become "a roadside zoo" when it left AZA?  Did Pittsburgh?  Is Sylvan Heights, one of the finest bird facilities I've ever been to and a leader in avian conservation, "a roadside bird park"?  Does a small nature center with a handful of native species need to be dragged into the whole mess  Are petting zoos with only domestics exempt too?  What if they have a single exotic species?

Most of these criteria are subjective - which is dangerous because it allows almost any zoo to painted as a roadside zoo.  There are bad zoos out there - some of them struggling with money or expertise, some by sheer apathetic choice.    Some facilities rise.  Others, regrettably, slouch into disrepute and squalor.  Some can be fixed and turned around.  Some should be disbanded. 

Defining what makes a zoo "good" or "bad" is a complicated issue, with facets of the answer being determined by the welfare of the animals, the history of those animals, the facilities, and the zoo's commitment to conservation and education.  Some facilities excel in some areas but struggle in other areas.  Welfare may be great for some animals, but poor for others - maybe even individuals of the same species.

At any rate, it's a false dichotomy to say that it's simply a matter of great zoos and shabby little roadside zoos.  After all, every zoo is by the side of some road.  In some, the road runs through them.

An Unexpected Poetry Slam

We'll take a break from the weighty subject of animal welfare to celebrate Valentine's Day with one of my many moments of professional humiliation.  What makes this one so special is that it doesn't involve animals... or visitors... or even being at my own zoo.


As a professionally-developing keeper, I was excited to attend the AZA Midyear Conference a few years back, hosted by the Albuquerque BioPark.  It was a great chance to meet new people, learn about advances in the profession, and get my name out there.  Unfortunately, that's not all I put out there.


Attending an official social function one evening, I was determined not to embarrass myself in front of the bigwigs, so, among other methods of erring on the side of caution, I stuck with soda instead of alcohol.  I was listening to one zoo director pontificate, mostly smiling and nodding and taking an occasional sip of soda, when I glanced at a display table next to me.  It took me a second to process what I was looking at:

40,000 Endangered Species Condoms Sent to Top 10 ‘Sexually Satisfied’ Cities

Then I realized, they were condoms.  Condoms, in endangered species themed wrappers, with poems on them written for the 12-year old boy in all of us.  If I remember correctly, it was the horned lizard one which sent me over the edge.  Soon, I was spraying soda from my nose all over the esteemed director... and anyone else in arm's reach (nose reach)?


The Center for Biological Diversity, recognizing the import role of contraception in lowering human population growth, is distributing 40,000 of the aforementioned condoms to what it recognizes as the ten most sexually active cities in the US.  Often, when we talk about population growth, it's pointedly aimed at Asians, Africans, and Latin Americans, which is more than a little prejudiced.  There many be fewer people in North America than in Africa, to be sure... but each one of us uses a heck of a lot more resources than your average Tanzanian or Botswanan.  Making a dent in population doesn't help unless it's paired with a reduction in resource use (such as water and fossil fuels) as well.


This is a fun publicity stunt for Valentine's Day, but I think I could have come up with a better plan, one which would have had better results while spending less money.  Don't even bother sending the condoms - the wrappers themselves will do the job just fine.


I can't imagine too many young men making a ridiculous, soda-spraying spectacle out of themselves like I did that day would need a condom afterwards.  Granted, I had been trying to land a possible job interview down the road, not a date, but the net damage was roughly the same.  That reaction would be a perfect wet towel for any budding Valentine's Day romance.

From the News: Roadside Zoo Round-Up

I like to use this blog to share positive stories from the world of zoos.  These might consist of a new exhibit opening, a spectacular birth, or an important conservation initiative.  It always makes me happy to see our profession growing and strengthening, striving to be better.


Not everyone is having a good year so far, however.  Far from the spotlight shared by the San Diego Zoo, Bronx Zoo, the National Zoo, and other world-renowned facilities, there are hundreds of smaller zoos and sanctuaries scattered around the country, many of them privately owned.  At the same time that many of the accredited zoos, run by municipalities or nonprofits, are plugging along just fine, they seem to in some distress.


Much of that appears to be associated with accusations of providing inadequate care for their animals.  These are some of their stories...


Indiana: Wildlife in Need founder speaks after USDA revokes license for 'well over 120 violations'
Iowa: Judge orders removal of animals from Cricket Hollow zoo near Manchester
Maryland: Zoo prepares for big cat removal; protests planned
Virginia: Owner, nephew face 46 counts of animal cruelty over roadside zoo in Winchester
Wisconsin: Animal rights group sues over conditions at Wisconsin roadside zoo

A Siberian tiger, who later died, rests in an old swimming pool at Tri-State Zoological Park in Cumberland in 2013 (Bonnie Jo Mount/The Washington Post)

Surprise! It's USDA!

It's never a welcome announcement, coming as it always does whenever we are inevitably in the middle of something complicated and important.  The most recent time, most of staff was in the midst of an elaborate animal catch-up, a prelude to a medical procedure which we had been planning for some time.  Then, right at the critical moment, everyone's radio squawked on at once.


"USDA is here!" announced the zoo's receptionist. 


With a collective groan, we hurriedly put our catch-equipment away and fanned out.  There was a lot to do.


Unlike an AZA accreditation visit, USDA inspections are surprises.  They're meant to get an accurate glimpse of what day-to-day operations are like.  This, essentially, means that someone's job is to stall the inspector while the rest of the staff frantically runs ahead of them, beating down cobwebs, sweeping floors, and making sure that everything is correctly stowed in the kitchen.


That stalling usually comes in the form of the other half of the inspection - the paperwork.  The inspector reviews veterinary and transport records from the time of the last inspection, making sure that all animals are receiving adequate treatment under a written program of veterinary care, and that the movements of all mammals in and out of the collection are documented on specific transit forms.  Apart from that, they wander the grounds, inspecting public areas and behind-the-scenes areas alike, whether the night houses and winter quarters of the animals or the food prep and hospital facilities.


Many USDA inspectors are veterinarians, but few that I've encountered really have a background in working with non-domestic animals.  Sometimes, this means that they might not really know what is normal, so you have to be prepared to speak up to defend institutional honor.  Long, splayed hooves on a goat are a sign that they are not being trimmed, or at least given the chance to wear down naturally.  Long, splayed hooves on a sitatunga, a semi-aquatic marsh antelope from Africa, are perfectly normal, an adaptation for walking through the swamps.  Fortunately, USDA as a whole seems to realize things like this, even if they don't know the specifics, and doesn't take too heavy-handed of an approach to zoo animals.  Instead, they have their strictest requirements for rabbits, guinea pigs, and other domestic species.


Most inspectors that I've worked with have a neuroses or two, which it helps to pick up on.  Some are obsessed with dust and cobwebs, another that I knew had a passion for inspecting for protruding nails and screws.  Some will glance cursorily at your paperwork and declare it all in order.  Others will read... every... page... twice... most of which is boilerplate.  Most irritatingly, a tiny handful that I've worked with have had a mindset that if they don't find something... anything... then their bosses won't believe they did their job, so they'll keep going in circles, looking for something to complain about.  I've almost been tempted to leave out a very minor infraction just to give them something to latch onto so they'll shut up and go away.


I used to really think highly of the value of inspections, which come once a year (more often if complaints are lodged that require further investigation).  I liked the idea of surprise inspections to keep us on our toes and make sure everything was being done properly.  Lately, I'm less sure.  USDA seems to be getting scaled further and further back, and I keep seeing evidence of frankly atrocious conditions that are allowed to flourish that go unchecked by what it supposed to be the most powerful authority we have - some of these we'll explore later.  Inspectors that I have alternate widely between being far too relaxed and indifferent to obsessed with minor details and complaints that have, almost universally, all been thrown out upon appeal.  Neither has left me with much confidence in the agency.


I love zoos and aquariums and believe in our mission, but acknowledge that there are some dodgy actors out there and that we need a watch dog.  Lately, I just wish we had a better one.

USDA - The Overarching Authority

Any discussion of animal welfare in zoos - or really most other settings in the US - has to begin with the major regulatory agency: the US Department of Agriculture.  Under the Animal Welfare Act of 1966, signed into law by President Lyndon B. Johnson, the USDA has authority over the manner in which animals are treated in research and exhibition facilities, such as laboratories and zoos and aquariums.  The regulations are listed in a text known commonly as "the Blue Book."

USDA is the most important agency for a zoo to stay on the good side of.  AZA regulations are far stricter... but they are also voluntary.  A zoo doesn't have to be accredited by the AZA.  It does have to have a license from USDA to stay open to the public... assuming it has mammals, of course.

You see, the "Animal Welfare Act" takes a fairly specific approach to defining what, in fact, actually constitutes as an animal.  Cold-blooded animals, such as reptiles, amphibians, and fish, are not recognized under the act.  Neither are birds.  USDA has been talking for the last several years about how they're going to start inspecting birds also, but we all know that's a lie.  They barely have the staffing and funding to do the bare minimum of covering mammals.  Without some major upgrades, birds are a pipe-dream.  The National Aviary in Pittsburgh has hundreds of animals on display.  USDA is only focused on their two species of mammals - sloths and flying foxes.  An inspector at the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago would bypass all of the birds, reptiles, amphibians, and fish and invertebrates and focus on the marine mammals.  Heck, not even all mammals are covered under the Act.  Lab rodents are considered exempt... so feel free to torture away, I guess?

It doesn't help that USDA regulations are simultaneously vague and lax.  You can keep animals in some pretty horrific conditions - the sort that might make an AZA accreditation team light their collective hair on fire than run out of your gates and still be in compliance.  The difficulty, however, is that the rules are very open to interpretation, and it really depends on what, exactly, your inspector is looking for and how they choose to interpret certain rules.  It's maddening, and I have spent a lot of time arguing with inspectors who may or may not have a clear idea of what is actually within their authority and what is a matter of personal opinion.

These insights and opinions are shared during one of the most stressful days in any zookeeper's year - the annual surprise inspection.  It's that joyous event which we will discuss tomorrow...

The Macaws on the Road to Damascus

I've been thinking a lot about animal welfare lately.  If you're interested in zoos, it's hard not to.  Along with conservation, welfare is the pillar of almost every conversation we have in the profession.  I'd always thought about it in largely abstract terms.  I clearly remember when it first began to cross my mind in a serious, more personal way.


Almost 10 years ago, I was wrapping up my last day of work at the shabby little private zoo where I had spent the last four years.  At the time, it was my longest gig as a zookeeper, and though I was excited to be moving on, part of me was definitely going to miss it.  As evening settled in and it got closer to clock-out time, I took one last stroll around the grounds.  It seemed like each animal I saw elicited some sort of memory in me.  There were the kangaroos that I had hand-reared, the alligators that I had fed for feeding demonstrations, and the owl that I had jessed and taken to schools for education talks.  I passed by the lemurs, and remembered the joy of finding a baby clinging to its mother's chest one morning, and the camels, and paused to remember fondly what giant assholes they were.


Then I got to our green-winged macaws.  And there I drew a blank.


Green-wings are big, showy birds, some of the largest and most beautiful of the macaws.  If a visitor had asked me, I could probably have spouted off a few facts about them.  No one ever had. In my entire four years, I don't think I had ever even said the words "green-winged macaws" aloud once.  I'd fed them.  I cleaned their enclosure.  I made sure their heat lamps were warm and toasty in the winter.  All of that was done almost mechanically, on autopilot.  I don't think I ever gave them a single conscious thought. 

At that moment, it was like I was seeing them for the first time.


That bothered me.  A lot.


Some jobs can be mechanized, perhaps done by automatons down the road.  Not zookeeping.  Caring for wild animals requires attention to detail, observation, flexibility, and improvisation - none of which I'd shown those macaws.  They were healthy as horses, thankfully (though I have known some pretty sickly horses in my years), and the bare maintenance of their care hadn't involved much thought or effort on my part - but they'd deserved it.  If I was barely doing more than making sure they were alive and vertical, how could I be sure that they were getting a good quality of life?  If I wasn't sparing them any real thought, how could I be sure that they were happy?  Answer: I couldn't.


That moment, in my last half hour on the job, made a major impression on me. I went on to my new job not triumphantly, but guiltily. I really felt like I'd owed more to those macaws.  As it happened, my new job also had a pair of green-wings.  I made a point of trying to learn that lesson, and made sure that they got better from me.

Species Fact Profile: Plumed Basilisk (Basiliscus plumifrons)

Plumed (Green-Crested) Basilisk

Basiliscus plumifrons (Cope, 1875)

Range: Central America (Honduras through Panama)
Habitat: Lowland Rainforest, often near water
Diet: Insects, Small Vertebrates, Snails, Flowers, Fruit
Social Grouping: Males are territorial, possessive of groups of females in their territories
Reproduction: Females lay 5-15 eggs in warm, damp soil, which hatch after an incubation period of 8-10 weeks.  Females may lay multiple clutches per season.  Young basilisks receive no parental care.  The young become sexually mature at 18-24 months
Lifespan: 5-10 Years
Conservation Status: IUCN Least Concern

• Largest of the basilisk species with a total length of up to 90 centimeters, more than two-thirds of which is made up of tail
• Bright green (lighter on the underside) with black bands on the tail and small bluish spots long the back.  Adult males have three prominent sail-like crests: one on the tail, one on the back, and one on top of the head.  Females only have the one on the head.
• Sometimes called "Jesus Christ Lizards" for their ability to run bipedally across the surface of the water for short distances to avoid predators.  Smaller, younger basilisks are able to do it more easily than larger adults.  Also excellent swimmers and can stay underwater for up to 10 minutes
• Predators include raptorial birds, snakes, opossums, and small mammalian carnivores, such as coatis and small wild cats
• Name "Basilisk" refers to the reptilian monster of European mythology (later immortalized in the Harry Potter series), which was the King of Serpents (the crest of an adult basilisk resembles a crown) could turn its victims to stone by looking at them
• Still common over much of range, but in decline in some areas due to loss of forest habitat.  There is also some collection for the pet trade, though this does not appear to be a series threat (the species is commonly bred in captivity for the pet trade)

Zookeeper's Journal: A common critique that anti-zoo folks often lodge against zoos is that we don't need them anymore (for educational purposes, at least) because we have so many other ways of learning about animals, such as video.  While I would never discount the value that I believe people gain from seeing animals up close and developing a real connection with them, I am also increasingly becoming a fan of supplementing exhibits of live animals with other educational sources, including videos.  The plumed basilisk is a great example way.  Its most famed ability - running across the surface of the water - is not a behavior that could easily be displayed in person in a zoo... and considering that the lizards only do it when frightened, nor should we want them to.  At any rate, what would you do - scare the lizard every day at 2:00 for a scheduled demonstration?  Instead, having video to supplement the exhibit would allow visitors to appreciate and marvel at this unique behavior, all while not causing unneeded stress to the animal.  Frankly, all of the basilisks that I've ever worked with have been high-strung enough.  I see no justification for adding to that.

How Do You Know?

Well, as predictable as Groundhog's Day, it was getting to be that time of year.  The animal rights group In Defense of Animals puts out its annual list of what it deems to be the "Ten Worst Zoos for Elephants."  This year, they gave top mention (bottom mention?) to the Pittsburgh Zoo and PPG Aquarium, but several other prominent zoos made the list.  Puzzlingly to me, several zoos which I actually think do have bad elephant welfare never get mentioned.  Why is that?  Perhaps the group wants the prestige that can only be obtained by punching up at big, reputable zoos?

"The Elephant in the Room" - San Diego Union-Tribune

African elephants at the San Diego Safari Park.

(Ken Bohn / San Diego Zoo Global)

Not surprisingly, many of the zoos mentioned are hitting back against the critiques of their animal care, and they seem to be getting a fair amount of support from their visitors.  I know of no zookeepers more passionate, more devoted to their charges than elephant keepers, so I knew that they were not going to take this lying down.  It got me thinking, though... we say we're taking the best care of our animals.  Anti-zoo activists say that we are not.  How can we be sure that we actually are?   I mean, we all want to believe that we are - but how can we know?  What's the proof?  Is it even possible to prove it?

Over the next few days, I want to take a step back and ask those questions and try to find some answers.

(Don't) Drain the Swamp

Forget the Super Bowl.  Forget glorified rodent weathermen.  This February 2nd, it's also World Wetlands Day!

Wetlands are among the most critical, yet unappreciated, habitats on earth.  They provide habitat and food for an astonishing variety of species - over half of North America's bird species rely on wetlands for habitat, either year-round or during migration.  They encompass some of the most biodiverse ecosystems on earth, from Florida's Everglades to Botswana's Okovango Delta, from the llanos of Venezuela to the peat swamps of Borneo.  They filter pollutants and protect coastal areas from storms and flooding.  They are pillars of our economy, not least of all for their role in aquaculture.

Oh, and they are seriously imperiled.

Wetlands are ubiquitous in the world, and you're seldom too far from some sort of wetland, be it a major estuary like the Chesapeake Bay or a prairie pothole, serving as an oasis for migrating ducks.  They are continually suffering from drainage, salinization, pollution, or just being filled in.  Chances are, you've got a patch of wetlands in your own town - if you have a zoo, there might be one on grounds itself.  Each of these provides a great opportunity to educate the public about the importance of protecting these vital habitats.

Take steps to protect local wetlands.  Vote for their protection.  Participate in a cleanup (or at the very least make sure that your own trash and recyclables are disposed of properly).  Maybe volunteer for a frog count or other citizen science program.  When/if you eat seafood, make sure it's sustainably harvested. 

Develop an appreciation for wetlands.  They sustain us and help keep our communities clean and safe.  They least we can do is return the favor.

Art credited to Peppermint Narwhal Creative

Praise to St. Betty

The Cult of Celebrity is a fascinating thing.  There are some actors/actresses, musicians, and athletes who have obvious superstar status.  Then there are others who, while famous - certainly highly recognizable - in their own right, don't quite have that universal adoration... until you slip into certain demographics or professions.

Before I became a zookeeper, I honestly never gave much thought to Betty White.

Photo Credit: Los Angeles Zoo 

A while back, one of those stupid internet hoaxes that claims that a celebrity just died started circulating, this time focusing on Betty White.  One former coworker broke down sobbing at the news, devastated - it took a lot of effort to convince her that it was fake news.

If you had shown me a picture of Ms. White at the time I entered the profession, I could have probably guessed correctly that she was one of The Golden Girls, though I couldn't have told you which one (now I know: Rose).  What I could not have told you was why so many keepers and educators, I found out, were obsessed with her.  As it turns out, Ms. White, like many celebrities, has a pet cause or two that she holds very dear to her heart and supports devoutly.

One of hers happens to be the Los Angeles Zoo.

Many celebrities visit zoos, especially as a fun activity with their families while on tour or filming in a nearby location.  Few - if any - have the level of dedication to a facility as Betty White does to LA Zoo.  She not only is a celebrated patron of the facility (honored with a plaque by the gorillas), she also has served on the Board of Directors and even as a Zoo Commissioner.  Perhaps most importantly, she has vocally spoken out in support of the zoo and its conservation efforts, while also attesting to the quality of its animal care.  Her support has also manifested itself in the form of a book of her experiences at the zoo, Betty & Friends: My Life at the Zoo.

Celebrity support for zoos is certainly not given, and there are definitely a few anti-zoo celebrities out there, especially when the subject is elephants (reasons I've never been able to become a fan of Cher or Lily Tomlin).  We mostly do have celebrity support, but with few exceptions (Chris Hemsworth, Chris Pratt, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson), I feel like it's somewhat lukewarm, and that they might back away if they felt it was dangerous to their reputations.

It's great to have a beloved cultural icon firmly in your corner.