"Ooh!" by Shel Silverstein

Beaches and Bucket Lists

Slaughter Beach State Park was a pretty grandiose title for what, as far as I could tell, was just a section of beach in someone’s backyard.  I parked my car a block or so away and strolled down a small, sandy trail, eventually finding myself at the edge of the Atlantic.   I checked my watch as I walked; it was important to time this according to the date and the time.  The date was the night of a spring full moon.  The time was related to the tides.  Stepping onto the wet sand, I saw that I was right on time.

The beach was covered with what appeared to be an army of upside-down saucepans or colanders, slowly crawling from the waves onto the shore.  Though they were invisible beneath their shells, I knew that they were walking on spindly, spider-like legs as they began their spawning sessions, the females surrounded by males eager for them to drop their eggs.  This was the spring breeding of the Atlantic horseshoe crabs, which I had wanted to see for a long time and was finally in an opportune position to attend.  I spent an hour or so on the beach, squatting down or lying on my stomach to photograph the crabs, wading out in the surf among them, or just sitting on a rock and watching them putter around like prehistoric wind-up toys.

When the time came to leave, I dried off my feet, put my shoes back on, and headed back to the car, still vaguely feeling like I was trespassing in someone’s yard.  Another one off the list, I thought as I started up the car.

Whenever I find myself in a different part of the country, I start to amass a little bucket list of wildlife experiences I hope to have.  Mostly they involve seeing certain animals in the wild, sometimes engaged in a specific behavior.  On that same trip to the region, I saw ospreys  and bald eagles nesting, observed Delmarva fox squirrels in Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge, and watched wild ponies wade through the salt marshes of Assateauge Island.   On other trips to other regions, I’ve seen other animals… or not seen them, based on how lucky I’ve been.  

There is something very satisfying about seeing a wild animal in an iconic setting, like American alligators in the Everglades, prairie dogs in a Texas meadow, or humpback whales just outside of Boston harbor.  In other searches, I’ve come up short.  No red wolves were to be found when I searched Alligator River, and no matter how many nooks and crannies I poked into in the Sonora, I never did find a Gila monster.

There are so many more memories that I want to have – bison and grizzlies in Yellowstone, California condors sweeping over the Grand Canyon, moose lumbering across a New England backroad. 

I’ve worked in zoos for more of my life than I haven’t, and I love almost every minute of it.  Still, part of the purpose of the zoo is to help species persist in the wild, both through advocacy and support-building among the public, as well as through direct conservation.  There are few moments more powerful than seeing (in a safe, responsible manner that doesn’t interfere with the animal’s behavior) a wild animal in its element, in its natural environment, doing what it does naturally.  The memories these moments impart can last a lifetime.  Every time I have a new one, I’m reminded of why I want to work with wildlife conservation, and how important it is to preserve wild places and wild animals.

Species Fact Profile: Atlantic Horseshoe Crab (Limulus polyphemus)

Atlantic Horseshoe Crab 

Limulus polyphemus (Linnaeus, 1758)

Range: Atlantic Coast of North America, southern Canada to the Yucatan Peninsula

Habitat: Shallow Coastal Waters with Mud or Sand Bottoms

Diet: Small Marine Invertebrates, Algae

Social Grouping: Vast breeding congregations

Reproduction: Breed at night in the springtime (exact time varies by season), with sometimes thousands of crabs gathering on the beach.  Several males surround each female as she lays her eggs (about 20,000 per night, in clumps of 5,000, may lay up to 100,000 per season), fertilizing them externally.  The fertilized eggs hatch after two weeks.  The young are mature at about 10 years of age.

Lifespan: Estimated 20-40 Years

Conservation Status: IUCN Vulnerable

• Body length up to 60 centimeters (including the tail) and weigh up to 4.8 kilograms, with females being a quarter to a third larger than the males.  The largest horseshoe crabs are found in the central portion of the range, with the extreme northern and southern crabs being smaller
• Front portion of the body is covered with a smooth, dome-like carapace, green, grey, or brown in color, roughly resembling a horseshoe in size.  The shell is molted as the crab grows.  The crab has ten legs growing from under the shell, with the mouth located in the center
• Body is divided into three segments - a head (containing most of the vital organs), the opisthosoma (middle), which contains the gills and ridges used in movement, and the tail.  The long, pointed tail resembles that of a stingray, but is actually harmless; the crabs use them for steering, as well as for righting themselves if they are overturned.
• Primarily moves by walking along the bottom of the sea, but can swim on its back if needed
• This species dates back at least 450 million years, predating the dinosaurs by 200 million years.  Despite their name, they are more closely related to arachnids (spiders and scorpions) than to crabs, but are part of a separate order
• Their eggs are a very important food source for migrating shorebirds.  Adults and juveniles may be predated by fish and sea turtles
• Latin name translation: Limulus means "askew," while "polyphemus" was the name of a one-eyed giant (cyclops) in Greek myth.  This species is believed by some to have only one eye, but actually has ten
• The species has been documented in the Pacific coast of the US, as well as Africa, Europe, and Israel, but these are believed to have been released by humans.  Efforts to introduce the species to other locations for future harvesting have not proven successful
• Horseshoe crabs are used in biomedical research because of the properties of their blood.  Lysate, found in the blood, clots in response to bacterial toxins, and has been used for a variety of scientific purposes, including vaccine development.  Efforts are underway to develop a synthetic version which will reduce the need for live crabs to be harvested.  Blood harvesting does not kill the crabs, which may be released into the wild after being drawn, but the process may reduce their chances of reproductive success
• Horseshoe crabs are most threatened by over-harvesting for human use, as well as loss of suitable habitat due to development.  Climate change also reduces the availability of their preferred nesting sites.

Self Care for Keepers

As another National Zoo Keeper Week ends, I'll leave you all with this final thought, again courtesy of the Los Angeles Zoo.  To all the keepers and aquarists out there, remember - you have the best job in the world, but it can still take its toll on you, physically, mentally, and emotionally.  

As Jerry Springer would say, take care of yourselves, and each other.

National Zookeeper Week Bingo

This meme was developed by the Los Angeles Zoo to celebrate National Zookeeper Week.  I feel like they could have gone whole-hog and made it an actual 5 x 5, but let's look at what we got:

Top Row, Left: Well, obviously... many of them, actually, even the ones who are kind of a-holes.  Come to think of it, especially the ones who are kind of a-holes...

Top Row, Middle: Eh, depends.  Some of the dishes that involve multiple kinds of produce, proteins, grains... I love mixing those diets, they make me feel like some sort of Iron Chef.  On the opposite end of the spectrum, there are few things more vomit-inducing than a bowl of leftover heron diet (chopped capelin and Nebraska Brand Bird-of-Prey Diet) the morning after a summer storm.

Top Row, Right: This seldom happens to me.  Other people usually pick up on it first.

Middle Row, Left: Disappointing, but true.  I often feel like a parent who spent a fortune on a fancy toy for their toddler for Christmas, only to watch them play more with the box.

Middle Row, Middle: You have to strike the balance between firm enough that it won't break but pliable enough that it really gets into the grooves and ruts of the exhibit, between tree roots and behind rocks, and really gets every last bit of poop or soiled bedding.  Not an easy needle to thread

Middle Row, Right: When you are finished, your hose coil should be tight enough that it could hold water.  Anything less is sinful

Bottom Row, Left: Usually only after laundry...

Bottom Row, Middle: Yes, but I was actually disappointed when I started wearing a Fitbit to find out it was only this much... feels like more. Especially this time of year

Bottom Row, Right: This is why zookeepers are largely safe from Coronavirus.  We are well conditioned to wash our hands and not touch our faces.

So many other options left out... Ever had a tan line wash away?  Made a birthday cake for an animal?  Gotten bitten by something completely unexpected?  Yes, yes, and yes!

From the News: National Zoo Reopens Friday

The National Zoo Reopens Friday.  Only Some of the Animals Missed You.

At this point, it seems like just about every American zoo and aquarium has reopened from the Coronavirus pandemic shut downs.  Whether or not they stay open remains to be seen, as cases (and deaths) start to climb ominously back upwards.  I myself am feeling perfectly comfortable with going to the zoo - more so that I would be with going to a gym, a movie theater, or a dine-in restaurant.  Still, I'm not as confident about traveling, so right now I'm keeping my attentions local and planning visits for times and days when I suspect the zoo will most likely be empty.  In the meantime, it's a great time to support your local zoo or aquarium - consider it a socially-distancing stay-cation (it's not like we really have much in the way of travel options now anyway...)

Photo Credit: Darrow Montgomery

It's Too Hot...

I hope that, like this elephant at the Fort Worth Zoo, you're finding at least a little comfort and relaxation this hot, miserable week.

For the Animals, For Yourself

"Don't set yourself on fire trying to keep others warm."

- Penny Reid

Happy National Zoo Keeper Week!  I mean, there have definitely been happier NZK week's in our past, what with the absence of a deadly global pandemic, festering racial violence, and a withering economy that saw many of our colleagues fired, but hey, here we are.  It's been a brutal year, and if you've made it this far in it, congratulations!  Keepers should enjoy this week to celebrate themselves and all that they do for their animals.  They should also consider doing a little more for themselves.

I often hear keepers relate themselves to teachers, one of the more mainstream careers with closer parallels to their job (perhaps even more so than veterinarians, which would seem the obvious choice).  Both are careers that are passion-driven in the service of others, require education and specialization, pay little, and call upon their practitioners to go far beyond the job description in order to do an exemplary job.  Not surprisingly, both often lead to stress, burn out, and career changes.

As the debate about whether or not to reopen schools in the fall continues, I saw this post circulating on Reddit, though I have not found the original author.  The feelings are a bit harsher than mine (and pardon the swearing), but still relevant.  

At past jobs, I've worked 12 hours a day voluntarily because I wanted to do the best for the animals - but in those cases, it was my choice.  I've also worked at places that were practically abusive, certainly exploitative, with zoo owners (these were all private facilities) who would take any push you made for, say, better pay, more reasonable hours, safer working condition, etc, and throw it back at you, saying, "Oh, and here I was thinking you actually cared about the animals... guess I was wrong, all you are about is you" - which was a great way to shame a bunch of young, inexperienced kids into keeping their heads down.

Thankfully, most zoos and aquariums I've worked at have been nothing like that (at least at the organizational level) - but you can still bully a keeper into doing almost anything by telling them "it's for the animals."

This National Zoo Keeper Week, take pride in all that you do for your animals - but remember to also take care of yourself.  If not for you then for, you guessed it, the animals.  You're no good to them - or anyone - burnt out and beaten down.

All Creatures Great and... Great

A few years back, I had friends of mine, a group of biologists from overseas, come and stay with me for a few days.  It was his first trip to the United States, and we were excited to do the most exploring we could, packing in trips to parks, gardens, zoos, aquariums, and museums.  We had just gotten back from the airport to my apartment, where I was setting the table for some lunch.  It was there that my friends got their first introduction to North American wildlife.

Stepping out onto the balcony of my second-story apartment, they found themselves entranced by a pair of grey squirrels squabbling in a tree just a few yards away.  The rodents – what most Americans would view simply as bushy-tailed rats – chased each other around, chattering and fussing.  It was at this moment, one told me later – not the busy airport, not the drive back along the interstate, but this moment with the squirrels – that really put him in the mind that he was in a different county.

I could understand what he meant.  The first time I went to Africa, I saw lions, elephants, rhinos, and leopards from the back of a land rover.  I felt like I was in a particularly extravagant zoo exhibit.  It was only when I’d get back to camp and see superb starlings perched on top of my tent, or found myself unexpectedly sharing a bathroom with a tropical house gecko.  To me, smaller animals are what set the scenes and make a place feel “real.”

Unfortunately, as zoos continue to reinvent their exhibits into larger, immersive habitats, the creatures which I feel do the most to actually *immerse* a person in a landscape are being left out.  Small mammal, bird, and reptile houses are disappearing.  I mean, I had anecdotally noticed that there were fewer and fewer, but reading America’s Top 100 Zoos & Aquariums really drove the point home to me, as the authors – fellow enthusiasts of little animals, it seems – pointed it out whenever they did find smaller animals on display.  Speaking of the Dallas Zoo’s new African expansion, for example, they write:

“Whilst undoubtedly of a high quality, perhaps [Giants of the Savanna] takes its name too literally because the myriad of small animals found in nature on his continent are almost entirely excluded.” 

Smaller animals may not have the star power of large animals (though there are some exceptions – red pandas, sloths, tamarins), but they have lots of advantages that they bring to the table.  For one, it’s much easier to give them proportionately larger, more complicated habitats than large animals.  In proportion to their body size, you can take the space that would be a single tiger habitat and make several small-cat habitats, each with the animal having proportionately more space than the tigers had. 

This should be of special note to smaller zoos – they could opt to exhibit a few very large animals (and still possibly run into issues with space), or a lot of smaller ones.

It’s also possible to redo/remodel/renovate those exhibits more easily and frequently (and more cheaply) than it would be for large animals.  I used to re-perch my tamarin and marmoset exhibits fairly often, using whatever branches and woody vines I could scavenge to give them a brand new home every few months.  If I were to do that with, say, gorillas, I’d need a lot of heavy machinery and a budget of thousands, as well as to put it on the calendar months in advance.

Viewing smaller animals can also provide a more up-close, intimate experience.  This is especially true for animals that are highly social, such as naked mole rats, meerkats, and prairie dogs.  They can be especially appealing to young visitors, who are first coming to appreciate animals and might view giraffes and rhinos simply as distant, hulking shapes.

Lastly, presenting smaller animals provides a more complete picture of the natural world.  Many animals that we share ecosystems with are small, but zoos focus disproportionately on a few giant species. According to a paper in Scientific American, the average mammal in North America weighs 8 kilograms – about the size of a raccoon.  And that’s taking into account the bison, elk, moose, and three species of bears that live here.    Raccoons, of course, are doing just fine for themselves – but there are many species of smaller mammals which would benefit from more conservation attention, including more space – on-exhibit and off-exhibit – in zoos.

When my friends from abroad were visiting the US, they didn't expect to just see large mammals.  They saw groundhogs, squirrels, rabbits, (road-killed) raccoons, and a host of songbirds, shorebirds, and waterfowl.  It would be inaccurate for us to pretend that Africa is just the land of the giants - we should leave some room in our facilities for the little guys.

Species Fact Profile: Largetooth Sawfish (Pristis pristis)

Largetooth Sawfish

Pristis pristis (Linnaeus, 1758)

Range: Widespread distribution with four main subpopulations – Eastern Atlantic, Western Atlantic, Eastern Pacific, and Indo-West Pacific Oceans

Habitat: Tropical and sub-tropical coastal waters worldwide.  Prefers shallow estuaries, usually less than 10 meters deep with mud, sand, or silt substrate.   Has been reported in freshwater as far as 1300 kilometers from the ocean, and some populations spend most – perhaps all – of their lives in freshwater.

Diet: Fish, Mollusks, Crustaceans

Social Grouping: Solitary

Reproduction: Sexually mature at about 7-10 years old with a length of 2.8-3 meters.  Breeding is seasonal, varying based on the region, with females breeding every 1-2 years.  Females return to their natal regions to give birth. 1-13 (average of 7) pups are born live (eggs are retained in the uterus and develop while being nourished by yolk sac), about 72-90 centimeters at birth.    Born in salt or brackish water at the mouths of rivers, then swim upstream to spend the first few years of their lives.

Lifespan: Unknown - Estimates 35-85 Years

Conservation Status: IUCN Critically Endangered, CITES Appendix I

• Capable of reaching lengths in excess of 6 meters (possibly up to 7.5 meters – largest confirmed was 7 meters in West Africa) and weigh 500-600 kilograms, though such sizes are rarely achieved anymore.   “Large” specimens encountered today are often 2-2.5 meters

• Shark-like body plan, though they are more closely related to rays.  Head is ventrally flattened, with the mouth and gills on the underside.  Capable of breathing while lying on the ocean floor by drawing water in through the spiracles, large holes behind their eyes.Pups are born with "covered" teeth on their saws, presumably to protect their mothers during the birthing process. 
• Most recognizable trait is the saw-like rostrum which represents 15-25% of the body length (proportionally longer in juveniles than in adults).   It has 14-24 teeth equally spaced on each side.  Females tend to have shorter saws with fewer teeth than males.  The teeth of the saw are set in cartilage and do not grow back if the root becomes damaged
• Dorsal coloration is yellowish-brown, often with a yellow tint on the fins.  The underside is gray or white.  Individuals in fresh water may have a more reddish hue caused by blood suffusion under their skin The teeth of the saw do not fully erupt and are covered with a sheath of tissue until after birth
• Hunt using their saw-like rostrum to stir up prey from the bottom of the waterways as well as to slash at fish.  No documented reports of targeting humans, though captured sawfish may defend themselves and inflict serious injuries
• Juveniles may be predated by large sharks and crocodilians
• Captive sawfish have demonstrated the ability to survive permanently in freshwater as well as salt.  They also have demonstrated the ability to jump as far as 5 meters out of the water and climb using their pectoral fins, possibly an adaptation for climbing waterfalls and rapids when traveling upstream
• The genus and species name are both derived from the Greek for “saw”
•  In serious decline, with extirpation likely to have occurred in the majority of countries where the species was found and all populations in decline, with many likely no longer sustainable.  Degree of legal protection varies across range
• Primary threat is overfishing.  The fins are used in shark fin soup, while the saws are collected for novelty items or for traditional medicinal believes (believed by some cultures to be useful for treating asthma if made into a tea).  Also hunted for meat and (historically) for oil in their livers.  The saw makes the fish especially vulnerable, as it becomes easily entangled in fishing nets
• Saws have been coveted throughout history, and have been found in Ancient Mayan tombs

      Zookeeper's Journal: Few if any marine fish are as bizarrely fascinating as the sawfishes.  The largetooth sawfish, biggest of the group, might be the most astonishing of all.  I remember being amazed by the sight of my first sawfish , and that was a specimen that “passes” as a big one these days.  To think of a sawfish that measures 7 meters – close to the length of the only whale sharks I’ve ever seen – with a saw longer than I am tall would be an amazing fish.  That such a creature has an appearance of nightmarish and yet is really so docile towards humans make it all the more incredible. I don’t know how much longer we can really expect to be seeing sawfish in aquariums.  The species is declining precipitously in the wild and aquariums have not had much luck in breeding the species – to date there has only been a single breeding success of a single sawfish species on the books.  I wonder if the specimens that we see in public aquariums are just too small to successfully breed.  To be frank, most of the set-ups I’ve seen this species in don’t really look like they are designed to manage these fish reproductively.  I wonder if what we would need is massive pools that could accommodate larger fish, with salinity being adjusted to replicate the changing environment of these animals through the seasons (although some populations do stay in freshwater for their entire lives).  If we as zoos and aquariums are going to develop a plan for breeding sawfish, we better come up with it quickly.  This species has already disappeared over most of its range and at this point its extinction – and that of the other sawfishes - seems almost inevitable.

From the News: Mississippi Aquarium nearly complete and ready for marine life

This past month, there has been tremendous change in the zoo and aquarium world as many facilities open their gates to visitors for the first time in months.  There are still a few stragglers left based on local conditions, but the reopening of New York City's facilities later this month is going to be a huge sign that things are reverting to normal (whether or not that is a good idea is something I suspect we'll all find out very soon).

Mississippi Aquarium nearly complete and ready for marine life

Amidst all of the facilities reopening, it's worth not overlooking the fact that a major new facility is preparing to open its doors for the first time.  The Mississippi Aquarium in Gulfport is nearing completion, with animals assembling and exhibits preparing to open.  When it does open (an announcement is expected later this month), it will immediately take its place as one of the largest aquariums in the country.

Early renderings of exhibits look incredible, and I can't wait to see it... I mean, once travel for leisure becomes something that makes sense to do again, of course.

Let the Poster Beware

Apart from trolling it for material for the blog, I don’t really spend a lot of time on Facebook, and I rarely post anything on my own wall.  I don’t have Twitter or Instragram, and I’m still only vaguely aware of what TikTok is.  I’m not so crotchety and anti-tech, however, to not realize how vitally important social media is to many people, including members of our profession.  Especially now, when so many of us are forced to keep our distance from friends and family, social media platforms are our windows into the world.  They don’t always offer the best view.

There are endless stories of people getting in trouble for things they’ve put on Facebook or Twitter which have turned around and bitten them in the butt.  Like any business, zoos and aquariums are cautious of how their employees reflect upon them online.  Virtually every facility has some sort of social media policy, dictating rules on what pictures can be posted to what rules of appropriate behavior are.  Every place has a different line for what is deemed unacceptable.  Maybe it’s a controversial or offensive opinion, or some unprofessional conduct towards others.  Sometime it is work related.  I had a very stern chat with a new keeper a few years back after a few of her colleagues showed me pictures that she had posted on her wall of her wearing one of coatis – a particularly unpredictable old girl who had drawn her share of blood from keeper before – around her neck like a mink throw.

Sometimes, it’s not.

This Woman Lost Her Job For Sharing Art Showing Lynched KKK Members Because A Colleague Felt "Harassed"

Madison Hartmann, 24, was an employee of the Utah branch of the SeaQuest Aquarium chain (not to be confused with the SeaLife Aquarium chain).  I say “was” because Ms. Hartmann was fired recently over posts she made on Facebook in support of the Black Lives Matter movement, which depicted members of the Ku Klux Klan being hung from a tree.  After a coworker saw the post, it was reported to HR.  Ms. Hartmann later modified her privacy settings, removed any mention of her employer’s name from her profile, and posted something similar.  This time, she was fired

It's worth noting that the debate has nothing to do with animals.  If the keeper had posted something contradictory to the ethos of zoo and aquarium keeping, such as a picture of herself engaging in an act of animal cruelty or neglect, it would be a different conversation.  Most of the ensuing discussion around this case has focused on the fact that the art that was displayed did depict violence, but violence towards a racist organization, with people wondering if SeaQuest’s management, or at least the complaining coworker, had sympathies with the KKK.  I have no idea.  Maybe that coworker lost a relative to a suicide by hanging or something along those lines, and the depiction of a lynching was very upsetting to them for that reason.  Who knows?   I’m not passing any judgement on the Facebook posts themselves.  I’m just here to look at the policy:

Know your employer’s policy for social media.  Adjust your content and privacy settings accordingly.  It doesn’t hurt to remember that relationships with coworkers change – that you might be buddy-buddy and sharing off-color jokes one month, and the next month you might be at each other’s throats – only now your former-friend has a bucket-load of ammo to take to HR.

That’s why on social media I tend to watch, read, learn, observe… but seldom post.  You can call it cowardice or censorship.  I think of it more as self-preservation.

Specialty of the House

Tim Brown and Scott Richardson's America's Top 100 Zoos & Aquariums, reviewed yesterday, is a good introduction to one hundred of the country's most interesting zoological collections, and is well-organized for both a casual reader and a zoo enthusiast.  If I were to redo it for a second addition, there is one tweak I would make, however.  With each zoo or aquarium listed, the authors give a brief history.  They also list the species that are most interesting to a zoo connoisseur, mostly consisting of those that they are unlikely to see elsewhere.  I wish that they had combined those two to create a subcategory of "Must-Sees for This Institution."

Many zoos have a species or two (or, in the case of the very big ones, several) which are very intertwined with their history.  Maybe it has something to do with the zoo's history, or perhaps it has something to do with its conservation efforts, or maybe it's just an animal that this particular zoo is very well known for its success in breeding and rearing.  Most zoos and aquariums have some animal that, for whatever reason, when I think of that zoo, I think of that animal.

Some examples:

• Toledo Zoo - Hippopotamus.  Toledo was the first zoo to provide underwater viewing for hippos in their Hippoquarium on their African Savannah, and it revolutionized how zoos displayed these giant mammals.  Hippos went from being sedentary blobs peering out of their bathtubs to graceful behemoths that visitors could admire, in their element, from inches away.  Many zoos decided that the only way to exhibit hippos properly was with this set-up, and many hippo exhibits closed, while other zoos opened new facilities to highlight the underwater world of hippos.  Still, Toledo did it first, and that's why this was one the first exhibits I headed to when I visited for the first time.  I'd seen hippos underwater at other zoos before, but here is where it began - including the first time visitors witnessed the birth of a hippo - underwater - before their eyes

• Phoenix Zoo - Arabian Oryx.  The Arabian oryx exhibit at Phoenix isn't too impressive.  Arabian oryx exhibits tend not to be - they are a desert animal, and Phoenix is a desert already, so their habitat was a simple pen.  Still, there was no animal at the zoo that I was more excited to see.  Phoenix was the site of the World Herd - the collaborative, international conservation breeding program which pulled together the world's last oryx and created a sustainable population which has since been used to reintroduce the species back into the wild.  I'd served as a keeper for Arabian oryx at another zoo years earlier, but seeing the species here, at such a critical place in the history of the species, was very cool.  I felt the same way about seeing California condors at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park or the National Zoo with golden lion tamarins

• Brookfield Zoo - Western Gorilla.  Like Mr. Brown and Mr. Richardson, I'm not too impressed with the gorilla exhibit at Brookfield Zoo, located in the cavernous Tropics World building.  Still, it was neat to walk up to the railing, look down into the moat, and recall the story of Binti Jua, the female gorilla who saved a small child who had toppled into her habitat years ago.  This simple protective act helped change the image of gorillas in the public eye (and possibly caused some unrealistic expectations during the Harambe incident years later).  Such was the impact of this incident that, if the gorillas are every relocated to a new exhibit, I hope the zoo leaves the old one there just for the history.

Book Review: America's Top 100 Zoos & Aquariums

If there is one constant among zoos and aquariums, it is change.  Exhibits that were once state-of-the-art are years later considered obsolete and pulled down to make room for new habitats.  Species that were once so plentiful you couldn’t give them away become virtually extinct in zoo collections year later, while others which were once considered impossible to keep, let alone breed, suddenly begin to flourish.  Sometimes, entirely new facilities open.  I have both versions of Allen W. Nyhius’s “America’s Best Zoos” on my book shelf – one from the 1990’s, one from 2008 or so – and in many cases, the zoos described in them are almost unrecognizable today based on their written descriptions.

That’s why I was so excited last year to see the announcement about a new work, America’s Top 100 Zoos & Aquariums by Tim Brown and Scott Richardson of the International Zoo Enthusiast Society.  This handsome book, full of color photographs, documents what the authors have dubbed to be the most important (often the biggest) zoos and aquariums in the country.  Each zoo is given a few pages, which includes a history of the facility, a description of its exhibits and animals, a summation of what conservation projects it is involved in, and of its top exhibits.  As the book was written for zoo enthusiasts, each entry is also accompanied by a list of the animals that the authors feel that a zoo-lover must not miss; lots of these zoos have lions and gorillas, for example, but the authors want to make sure that you know that the Fort Worth Zoo, for example, has pallid bat and lesser bird-of-paradise, among other rarities.

Neither of the authors is American – Mr. Brown is British, Mr. Richardson Canadian – so they bring a unique perspective that an American zoo-goer might not have.  For example, they highlight species which aren’t uncommon in American zoos (Panamanian golden frogs, for example), but which are entirely absent in European collections, while also noting species which are plentiful in European collections but are not commonly seen here.  They also offer some insights into differences between European and American facilities.  Walk-through lemur exhibits, for example, are far more common in the Old World, while they are largely absent here.  In contrast, the authors can barely keep themselves from rolling their eyes and sighing every time they mention a kangaroo walk-through exhibit, which they seem to view as a trite American cliché.

The authors definitely know their zoos, having been to over a thousand between the two of them, and definitely seem to have firm ideas of how things “should be.”  Sometimes, it’s a little wearying as they harp over a few things over and over again.  I lost track of how many times in the book I came across them sniffing with disdain over how this zoo or that had the poor taste to substitute an Amur leopard for the African subspecies in a geographic-themed exhibit.  Other times, what I’m going to unfairly assume is Mr. Brown’s acerbic British wit elicited a muffled chuckle from me.  Speaking of Cheyenne Mountain Zoo’s reptile house, the Scutes  Family Gallery, they opine that it “[presents] living herpetology as modern art… it is quite as bad as it sounds!” Ok, I’ll agree with you gentlemen on that one…

Unlike the Nyhius book, this work also pays in depth (pun unintended) attention to America’s aquariums, profiling 16 of them, in addition to a few hybrid facilities and the SeaWorld parks.  In those passages, still, the focus is perhaps more heavily on the mammal, bird, and reptile components of the collections, though the fish get tolerable mention.  At the end of the book, an additional 20 facilities are given brief mention.  I feel like there are a few facilities which were maybe unjustly left out – Newport Aquarium?  Fossil Rim?  - but overall is an enjoyable, comprehensive overview of many of America’s greatest wildlife collections.

And it’ll probably be out of date within a few years…

America's Top 100 Zoos & Aquariums at IZES

Costs, Benefits, and Bearded Vultures

As a young zoo-lover, one of the most special memories of my childhood was a vacation I took about 20 years ago to the Mecca of American zoos – San Diego.  There, between the Zoo, the Wild Animal Park, SeaWorld, and Birch Aquarium, I saw thousands of animals, many of them species I had never seen before in my life.  Some of those species I later went on to work with as a keeper, and I saw them every day.  Others, I haven’t seen since.

Among those species was a bird that I’d read about long before and had always been entranced by – the lammergeier, also known as the bearded vulture.  This is a huge, shaggy raptor, once found in a sweeping arc from South Africa to Switzerland, Morocco to Mongolia, occupying desolate mountain ranges.  The birds are particularly famous for subsisting on bones, which they pick up in their talons and carry to great heights, then drop to shatter on the rocks below.  In my pre-Internet access days, I had no idea that I was going to see one in a towering aviary at the San Diego Zoo.  When I walked down the trail and suddenly spotted it, I felt like an animal which until then had only existed in my books was suddenly real.

Apart from that one brief visit, I’ve never seen a bearded vulture.  To the extent that I thought about it, I figured it would be something to look forward to if I were to take a zoo trip to Europe at some point.

Imagine my surprise last month when I was scrolling though Facebook and saw one starring back at me from a photo – and I learned that , for the first time in years, there was a bearded vulture state-side.

The World Bird Sanctuary, located in St. Louis, recently imported a bearded vulture to its facility, along with three smaller, rarer, but equally impressive Egyptian vultures.  The animal came from Kazakhstan, and is currently undergoing its mandatory quarantine period in New York before moving on to Missouri.

Part of me is so excited that I might get to see one again without booking a flight to Austria.  The other part of me?  Well, it’s a little skeptical.

I’ve coordinated an international transport before.  It’s extremely time consuming.  It’s also very expensive.  It certainly takes a toll on the animal, which has to go through a very stressful transport during which everything it knows is uprooted.  There’s a reason that we in the zoo community try to keep those down to a manageable level – why we aren’t swapping elephants and tigers with European or Asian zoos every other week.

This was really cool, and no doubt a major accomplishment.  I’m just not sure it was worth it in this case. Importing a single bird to be used as an educational ambassador doesn’t do too much for conservation – there’s no bearded vulture population in the states for this bird to add genetic diversity too.  It’s not going to dramatically alter the zoo visitor experience in the way that, say, the platypuses at San Diego will (which are also providing valuable research opportunities on keeping platypuses in American collections).

Now, it’s World Bird Sanctuary’s time and money, and they are allowed to do what they want with it.  I just think of the opportunities that might have been missed for vulture conservation with that sort of money – even if they had imported a vulture of a different species, such as a lappet-faced vulture or white-backed vulture, it would have been much more valuable.  Those are breeding programs already in place for endangered birds, which we could stand to build upon by growing them.  Throwing a single bearded vulture into the mix doesn’t achieve that.  This would have been like the San Diego Zoo sending a single California condor to a German zoo to serve as an education ambassador.  It would be really cool for those German zoo visitors who had never gotten to see a California condor before – but that’s all that it would have achieved.

There are so many animals that, even after a lifetime of visiting zoos, I've never seen that I would love to.  If the National Zoo announced that they were importing saiga, or the Dallas Zoo was importing Ethiopian wolves, or the Henry Doorly Zoo was importing indri, I'd be so excited.  At the same time, without enough animals to form a stable population, it's just a PR move, one that lets you claim that you have the "one and only."  Sometimes, that's justifiable - I still think that San Diego's platypus move isn't a bad idea, if it leads to the development of techniques which could possibly teach us how to establish a colony of platypuses in the US should things go downhill in Australia.  It was part of a carefully planned master project.  If every zoo just starts importing stuff just to be different, however, we may soon find out that none of our breeding programs are sustainable.

That being said, I’m totally still going to see that bird if I ever get the chance…

The Penguins of Our Lives

Keepers who work with large groups of social animals know that there is no drama on TV that can match what they witness every day.  There's backstabbing, bickering, constantly shifting alliances and enmities, and, of course, endless romantic intrigue.  Primates provide the most compelling drama, perhaps because they are the most relatable to us, but birds have more than their fair share of drama too.  Penguins, for instance...

Recently, the Kyoto Aquarium in Japan posted an eye-twitching diagram of the loves and losses of their penguins.  I can't speak or read Japanese, but even if I could, I still don't think I'd be able to make tux or tails of this mess, it's so complicated and confusing.  Penguins are nominally monogamous of course... but hey, so are people.

You may notice the presence of a few humans scattered about the chart.  Those are the keepers, some of whom the penguins listed love... and some who they really hate.

Sharing stories like this helps educate visitors as to the complex, social lives of penguins and how we try to replicate their natural conditions under our care.  It also helps to draw visitors in and make personal connections with the animals.  Who hasn't had a backstabbing former-best friend, a complicated love-triangle, or a frenemy, just like a Kyoto penguin?

Species Fact Profile: Golden Mantella (Mantella aurantiaca)

Golden Mantella

Mantella aurantiaca (Mocquard, 1900)

Range: Southeastern Madagascar

Habitat: Upland Tropical Rainforest (900 Meters)

Diet: Small Insects (Termites, Ants, Fruitflies).  Tadpoles are herbivorous

Social Grouping: Small Groups with a 2:1 Male Bias

Reproduction: Mating usually takes place after the first major rain of the year.  Females lay clutches of 12-30 eggs, which hatch after only 2-6 days and drop into the water.  Tadpoles develop into froglets after 6-8 weeks.  No parental care is provided.  Sexually mature at 12-14 months

Lifespan: 8 Years

Conservation Status: IUCN Critically Endangered, CITES Appendix II

• Body length 3-4 centimeters, with males typically being smaller, slimmer, and more angular than the females.  The legs are very short (better suited to climbing than hopping) with large disks on the fingers and toes
• Coloration is a bright golden-orange color, sometimes with flashes of red on the inside of the hind legs.  The eyes are black.  Males have a lighter-colored stomach than females
• Bright coloration is indicative of having highly toxic skin secretions, serves as a warning color.  Natural predators which seem to be resistant to the toxin are certain snakes and lizards
• Two subspecies - M. a. mylotimpanum, which has black spots over the ears, and M. a. aurantiaca, which does not
• Major threats are illegal collection for the pet trade, loss of habitat through deforestation, and the introduction of non-native predators

The Bald and the Beautiful

Happy Independence Day!  Today America celebrates its 244th birthday (Fun Fact: 18 of those years have been since March).  It's as good of a time as any to also celebrate a common feature of many of our zoos, our national bird.

Unlike zoos of the most, almost all of the animals that you see in modern zoos were born under human care.  One frequent exception is the bald eagle.  In fact, zoos and aquariums are not permitted to breed this species in their facilities.  That decision comes down from the US Fish and Wildlife Agency, which owns not all of the live bald eagles that you see in American zoos, but also all of the bodies and parts of deceased birds as well.

Every bald eagle that you see in an American zoo got there after it was deemed non-releasable in the wild.  Maybe it got hit by a car, zapped by a power line, or wounded by a hunter (highly illegal).  To house an eagle, a zoo must apply for a permit that attests to their willingness to keep USFWS informed of any changes in the bird's status, provide educational opportunities to the public, and provide good care.  There is also a prohibition on doing anything that would imply that the bird is a personal pet or used for commercial use.  The permit must be renewed every three years, with an annual report submitted to make sure that all birds are accounted for.

Zoos don't always do the best job of conveying to the public the stories behind their birds.  At every facility I've worked at with the species, I've heard visitors complain that the birds don't have room to fly - even though almost none of the birds can fly.  The eagles are usually some of my least favorite animals to care for.  Since they were all wild-born and brought under human care as adults, they remain very fearful of humans and seldom calm down.  As a result, I make of point of going in and out as quickly and quietly as possible trying to avoid disturbing them.

Working with eagles has kind of shattered some of their mystique for me.  I have a hard time thinking of them as fierce and majestic when I see them hopping around making their ridiculous chicken-clucking noise.  In the wild, they love to loiter around dumpsters.  Maybe we should have gone with a different national bird.  Maybe the whooping crane?  Those things are beautiful, majestic, and they will gut you like a fish if you look at them the wrong way...

Professor Hall's Hidden Crocodile

What kind of a crocodile is this?  The sign at the exhibit at the St. Augustine Alligator Farm told me that it was a New Guinea crocodile, Crocodylus novaeguineae.  It's the only member of that species I'd ever seen, and I made sure to take a picture.  Now, I'm not so sure what it is.

From New Guinea to Florida, one of these crocs is not like the others 

You see, it turns out that scientists have recently split C. novaeguineae into two species - the original, and a new one called Hall's New Guinea Crocodile (Crocodylus halli).  This has been done on the basis of skull morphology - Hall's crocodile (named for herpetologist Philip Hall) has a shorter, wider snout.  The newly described species hails from the southern portion of the island, while the original species is from the north.  The two are separated by the New Guinea highlands.  That different species should be isolated like this on an island isn't surprising - take a look at the island's human inhabitants.  New Guinea boasts of hundreds of languages and ethnic groups, as its rugged terrain fosters isolation splendidly.

(For what it's worth, based on the picture above, I suspect the animal in the picture is C. halli)

Discoveries like this pose major headaches for zoo breeding programs.   There is not a Species Survival Plan in place for New Guinea crocodiles, but imagine if there was - and then than 25%, 50%, who knows how many of your animals of a different species, or that you'd been hybridizing two species for years?  In many managed populations, there is an increased emphasis on doing genetic analysis to determine relatedness and genetic variability.

Taxonomy, the science of classifying living things, is in a constant flux between the splitters, who are always breaking species into more species, and lumpers, who disagree with such distinctions.  Lately, armed with genetic tools, the lumpers are winning.  There were 12 species of crocodile when I was a kid.  Now there are, I don't know, 17?  18?  It keeps changing.  And it's not there are more animals in the world - it's just a question of how we count them.

How we count and classify them, however, influences how we manage and breed them - so it pays to have a little more certainty.

Blood and Boas

Compared to many of the large snakes I've worked with, I've always thought of Dumeril's boas as fairly docile sausages.  They can get to be on the bigger side - nowhere in the same class as a green anaconda or a reticulated python, but big enough that if you happen to let yourself get distracted and one bites you, you can be sure that your attention will be redirected to the snake.  Quickly.

As it happens, I have only been present for one Dumeril's boa bite in my career, and I was not on the bitten end.  If anything, I had the more ridiculous end of the deal.

A colleague and I were taking a six-foot boa to the hospital for a radiograph.  Snakes are not naturally included to stretch out, so we did the stretching for her.  I held the tail.  He held the head.  Maybe we should have switched.

It turns out my grip on the tail was better than his grip on the head.  He was bitten on the hand.  Now, I hadn't known this about my friend - maybe it was something we was embarrassed about - but it turns out he was one of those fellows who can't stand the sight of his own blood.  It's not the pain, it's just the sensation of watching for own blood seep out of your body.  He took one look at his hand, and he started to faint. 

All of the assembled vets and vet techs grabbed him and rushed him away to treat the wound and treat shock and, I don't know, give me a cookie and juice to get his blood sugar up.  I don't know.  I wasn't there in the other room with them.  I was the one who had to still deal with the snake, who by now had gotten her first taste of human blood and apparently wanted more.

Without much in the way of options, I threw myself on the exam table and lay down on top of her, grabbing her head and pinning the rest of her down with my weight.  An angrily writhing snake under you does not feel great, especially from friction in some of the more delicate areas (particularly if it gets under your keys and radio and starts to dig those into you).  Still, I held (laid?) my ground... and that is where the vets found me twenty minutes later...