Handle with Care

Transporting animals is, for me, one of the most exciting yet nerve-wracking parts of my job.  On the one hand, it always excites me.  There's the chance to move animals into a better situation, to bring in a new species to work with or exhibit, or to form a new breeding population.  These are all things that excite me very much, and I enjoy the detail and coordination that go into them.

At the same time, there is always so much potential for things to go wrong.  I've been lucky that, knock on wood, I've never had a real disaster transporting animals, in that they all have gotten where they needed to be safe, sound, and alive.  There have been hiccups for sure - flights missed or delayed, unexpected weather, an animal that missed a connecting flight and spent a night in a Tennessee airport, even an animal involved in a car crash during a ground transport (thankfully no one - human or animal - was injured).  Even when things go perfectly (or perfect enough), there is the stress on the animal.  One of the saddest moments for me, in my entire career, was listening to a young bear that I'd helped raise crying in fear as her crate was loaded into a plane.  I knew she was okay, I knew things would be better in a few hours when she arrived at her new home, but at that moment, she was scared and my heart was breaking for her.

Sometimes, it's hard for me to remember how much better things are for animals in transport these days.  Back in the days of Carl Hagenbeck and Frank Buck, even Gerald Durrell in his post-war animal collecting days, creatures were taken from the wild in what was inevitable a stressful, dangerous process.  Then, they had to be hauled towards a city or port, a journey which in the 1800's could be very long and risky.  Then there was cooling your heels until a ship was ready to haul you across the world.  So much distance to cover, so many changes, so much potential for delay or disaster.  So little knowledge about veterinary care or nutrition, so little focus on welfare and comfort, and so little regulation.

It's not surprising that so many animals that were collected from the wild did not live to see the zoo that was their destination, or did not survive long upon arrival.

Transporting animals reminds me that our creatures are, simultaneously, so very fragile and so very tough at the same time.  I love doing, but I secretly dread each one, not feeling relieved until either I unpack the animal in its new home and see it comfortable and doing well, or until I hear from the receiving institution that everything turned out okay.  Still, stressful though they can be, moving animals is necessary for the survival of our institutions.  I think of our animal collections as pools of water.  Blocked off and isolated, they stagnate and die.  Movement, in and out, keeps them fresh, vibrant, and alive.  

Zoo History: Keep Calm and Platypus On

Animal transports can happen for a wide variety of reasons.  The transport may take place to fulfill the recommendations of a breeding program, or to met a facility's needs for an exhibit, or to put animals in a more appropriate social group.  Sometimes, to be honest, they take place on a whim.

Few animal transactions in history have proven more whimsical, bordering on the farcical, than Winston Churchill's platypus.

Winston Churchill was hardly unique among world leaders in having a passion for animals (an entire book of animal anecdotes has been compiled).   He kept several pets, including many of the more exotic persuasion, and had a close relation with the London Zoo.  Beyond his personal interest in animals, Churchill understood the impact that animals could have on the psyche and morale of a nation, especially during dark times.  In 1943, England was certainly in the midst of some dark days.  Perhaps, Prime Minister Churchill reasoned, there was something that could be done to boost the nation's spirits.  Perhaps a platypus would do...

By the start of World War II, only a single live platypus had ever been seen outside of Australia, and none had ever seen British soil.  The arrival of one in England, in the middle of a war that threatened England's very survival, would have been quite a coup.  It would also help to improve England's chilly-relations with Australia.

Churchill wanted several platypuses for British zoos; perhaps he was aware of the delicacy of the species under human care and envisioned that he might need spares.  As it was, a single platypus was prepared for shipment to Europe, a young male.  The animal was obtained from David Fleay of Healesville Sanctuary, possibly the world's leading authority on the species.  The specimen slated for shipment to England was carefully vetted, trained to be comfortable with human caretakers.  He was, perhaps unsurprisingly, named "Winston."

Excitement about the soon-to-be-British platypus spread like wildfire.  The London Zoo built an elaborate platypus habitat.  British school children were sent on a mission to collect earthworms, carefully packed into moist tea leaves, to feed the little beast.  Even more elaborate were the preparations taken on board the ship that transported him.  He had a special keeper, thousands of worms, and a private suite.  With such luxurious conditions, it's no surprise that he almost made it.

The platypus coasted most of the way back to Britain, almost all the way back, when it came across a U-boat.  Depth charges were dropped and the enemy repelled, but at a coast.  Platypuses, it seems, are very sensitive to vibrations - it's how they sense their prey in the waters.  Not surprisingly, they also are quite sensitive to depth charges.  Winston was found dead in his tank shortly after the attack.   As of this day, a live platypus as never reached British soil.

Leave It To Professionals

Over the course of my career, I have carried out dozens of animal transports, with animals ranging from frogs to waterfowl to primates to large carnivores.  From the zoo that I work out of, I have driven animals into over a dozen states and have personally flown with animals to three others.   I have planned more airplane and mail shipments than I can recall.  I consider myself pretty good at this.  Given the orders to coordinate a panda transport from China, for example, I think I could do it.

There are some transactions, however, where I acknowledge that I am in over my head.  I have never transported, say, a giraffe cross-country.  Largely these are transports that require specialized vehicles.  In such cases, you call for a professional.

There are a small number of professional animal transporters that zoos can call upon.  Sometimes these are transporters who can haul animals for long distances, such as cross-country, which some zoos may not have the time or staff to carry out.  Others may have specialized equipment such as giraffe crates and the vehicles necessary to transport them.  Hiring such specialist transporters removes a lot of the guesswork and challenge in moving animals.

Transport crate at ZooTampa, used for shipping African elephants from Swaziland - no easy transport

In addition to transport, professionals may be consulted to coordinate international transactions, especially those that require complex permits or customs fees.  Especially for a facility that has no experience in doing such transactions and wants to be sure that they aren't running afoul of any national or international laws, a broker can be a lifesaver.

As tricky as animal transports can be, I've thought half-heartedly about going all-in on it.  I've wondered about the possibility sometimes of going into the transport business, coordinating transactions for other zoos.  I've gotten pretty proficient with paperwork in permits over the years, and have wondered about the challenges of doing something really wild, like bringing a super rare animal into the country.  In crazier moments, a friend and I talked about buying a little puddle-jumper and learning how to fly, offering direct flights for animal transports.  For some reason that frightens me less than driving one of those giraffe trailers.

Book Review: The Lady and the Panda

Animal transportation is a complicated, regulated process.  Especially international transports.  Especially transports involving endangered species.  And especially international transports involving endangered species removed from the wild.  One does not simply "wing it"... these days, at least.  There was a time, not that long ago, a more adventurous (and I don't necessarily mean that in a good way) time when anything could happen.

When American adventurer and socialite Bill Harkness, who had previously won fame by capturing Komodo dragons in Indonesia, traveled to China in the early 1930's, he had no idea it would be his last adventure.  He died there, before even getting a chance to set off into the wild in pursuit of the most elusive quarry any adventurer could seek - the rare, mysterious, barely-known giant panda.   To the shock of many, his quest into the highlands in pursuit of pandas was taken up by his young wife, Ruth.  To the shock of everyone, she succeeded.  In 1936, Harkness, joined by Chinese-American adventurer Quentin Young, became the first westerner to capture a giant panda and bring it to the west.  She recounted her story in her book, The Lady and the Panda.

The Lady and the Panda is also the name of the biography of Harkness written by Vicki Constantine Croke (who also wrote an excellent general-interest book on zoos, The Modern Ark).  While relying heavily on the writings of Harkness, Croke has the advantage of distance and time to look back on Harkness's unconventional adventures in China, celebrating the many ways in which she differed from her competitors, the many other explorers who were on the hunt for pandas.  Those differences - her patience and devotion to the animal that she collected, combined with her respect for her Chinese team and readiness to treat them as partners - may very well have been why she succeeded - on three separate expeditions - where others failed. Natural history aside, this story is an interesting enough read for its presentation of a woman entering what at the time was solely the domain of a certain chauvinistic breed of man, and not only competing in their game, but beating them at it.

Unfortunately, her exploits inspired and enraged envious rivals who, in their desire to reclaim what they saw as their lost honor, stepped up efforts to collect pandas - live and dead - further endangering this already rare animal.

Readers may be surprised to find that not that long ago, there was a world where the giant panda, today so recognizable, was almost unknown, even within its own country.  There probably is no other example of still-living species which skyrocketed from absolute obscurity to world fame so quickly.  When Su-Lin, as the young panda that Harkness first collected, was presented to the Brookfield Zoo, she quickly became the star attraction of the animal world (the taxidermied remains of Su-Lin - thought to be a female at the time, now known to be a male - are on display to this day at Chicago's Field Museum of Natural History).  

From an animal transport perspective, the story - less than a hundred years old - is still shocking.  Giant pandas are the most treasured animals on earth, and the Chinese government is fiercely protective of them.  The thought of just sauntering into China - no permits, no licenses, not even the backing of a zoo or museum - plucking a panda from a tree cavity, and then sauntering back out (taking time to hit the cocktail circuit, of course) is mind-blowing to me.    You couldn't do that with a shrew these days (though, to be fair, at the time of this story, the Chinese were occupied by more pressing concerns, such as an ongoing civil war and the increasingly aggressive Japanese encroachment, which later exploded into World War II).  Reading some of the horrible mistakes that some of these hunters and collectors made - like trying to ship cold-loving pandas through the tropics - sent a shiver down my spine.

The past, it has been said, is like another country.  They do things differently there.  This applies equally well to animal transport as anything else - especially when you're looking at a different country, in the past, with the unlikeliest (for the era) of protagonists.

The Lady and the Panda at Amazon.com

Transportation in a Time of Coronavirus

 Transporting animals across the country can be difficult under the best of times.  

2020 has not been the best of times.  

Matters get even more complicated when you aren't talking about simply moving an animal from one zoo to another, but are talking about releasing a government owned, native, endangered species back into the wild.  Still, conservation work never stops, even in the midst of a global pandemic (though it sure as heck has slowed it down on many fronts).  Enjoy this article from the Association of Zoos and Aquariums on the successful struggle to transport Mexican wolves to the wild during difficult circumstances.

Flying Mexican Wolves During a Pandemic, by Esther Duke

Photo Credit: Arizona Game and Fish Department

The Great Zookeeping Road Trip

Shipping animals by air is one of the easiest ways to safely, quickly get an animal across long-distances.  It does have its drawbacks.  It can be expensive.  It can be weather-sensitive.  It can be logistically challenging - it only works well, after all, if there is a suitable airport close enough to your starting point, and another close enough to your end point.  There can be restrictions of what kinds of animals can ship, or on what kinds of crates that they can ship it.  

Most of all, there's the gut-wrenching moment of dread that you experience when the cargo crew has taken your animal in its crate behind the counter and you know that, for the next few hours, its fate is in the hands of a non-animal professional.  Having witnessed the chaos of airport cargo facilities behind-the-scenes, it can be a chilling thought.

It's not too surprising that sometimes (often, even), I throw up my hands and say, "Heck with it.  Let's just drive the damn thing."

Driving has practical benefits.   Most importantly, you are with your animal for the entire time.  You can judge if it is too hot or too cold, or if it needs more food or water.  If it seems agitated or upset, you, a familiar caretaker, can comfort it.  If it, say, starts to break out of its crate, like a certain pair of otters I could mention, then you can respond quickly and promptly - whereas the alternative might be an animal getting loose in the cargo hold of a plane and wreaking havoc there.   

My favorite part of the road trip might be that it gives a chance for there to be some overlap between the old keepers and the new.  Whether the animal is being delivered or picked up, there is a chance for the caretakers to meet, to observe the animals together, to observe the current facility or the new one, and to share ideas and insights about diet, training, enrichment, and other aspects of care.  

The golden rule of road trips with zoo animals is - drive.  Once you have the animal, you drive until you get to your destination, unless it proves unsafe to do so - say, if you're exhausted and need to sleep, or to wait out a storm.  Other than that, bathroom breaks, gas breaks, and drive-through/take out food are acceptable reasons to stop, apart from checks on the animals.  On the non-animal leg of the drive, you can stop, stretch your legs, have a decent meal, maybe even visit another zoo along the way, which has been a great chance for me to meet up with old friends on the road before.

If the drive is very long, sometimes it works best to meet at a central location.  I often recommend doing it at another zoo - giving them a heads-up first, of course.  That way, if there are any unexpected problems - you need a new crate, or a roll of duct tape or some zipties, or a little feed, or, heaven help you, a vet, you're in the right place.

Driving has its drawbacks as well.  It can take a long time, which can take a toll on both you and the animal.  It can be deceptively expensive - instead of plopping down a big wad of money for airfare, you get nickeled-and-dimed with charges for gas, meals, tolls, etc, to say nothing of wear-and-tear on the vehicle.  Paperwork-wise, it can be a hassle, as you have to check with each state on your route to make sure they don't have any laws or permit requirements that you need to be aware of.  Plus, there is so much uncertainly - weather, vehicle problems, delays.  A curator I knew once told me, "When an animal goes up in a plane, the plane is either going to land, or crash.  Either way, it comes back down.  When you transport by road, anything can happen."

Having dealt with car crashes, crazy delays, awful directions, temporary escapes (thankfully confined to the vehicle itself), freak weather, etc, I can confirm.  Anything can happen.

You can meet the worst traffic on some of these backroads.

Species Fact Profile: Eurasian Eagle Owl (Bubo bubo)

                                                                     Eurasian Eagle Owl

Bubo bubo (Linnaeus, 1758)

Range: Europe and Asia below the Arctic Circle, as far south as the Persian Gulf and extreme North Africa.  Does not occur in Southeast Asia or the Indian Subcontinent

Habitat: Woodland, Tundra, Desert, Grassland, Scrub - favors rocky areas with cliffs and ravines, as well as open country for hunting

Diet: Primarily small mammals such as rodents, rabbits, and hedgehogs, but will take prey the size of foxes and deer fawns.  Will also eat birds (including smaller owls) as well as reptiles, amphibians, fish, and large invertebrates

Social Grouping: Primarily solitary, but will pair up during courtship.  Territorial, home ranges overlapping only slightly

Reproduction: Monogamous, may be for life.  Nest in January or February.  Nest in crevices, caves, or on the ground at the base of trees, may use abandoned nests from other birds.  Lay 1-4 eggs per season, depending on availability of food.  Female incubates the eggs for 31-36 days while the male hunts for both partners.  Chicks are capable of feeding themselves at 3 weeks, can walk at 5 weeks and can make short flights at 2 months.  Driven from nest in the fall.  Sexually mature at 2 years old.

Lifespan: Estimated 20 Years in Wild, up to 60 Years in Human Care

Conservation Status: IUCN Least Concern, CITES Appendices II and III

• Generally considered to be the world’s largest owl species.  Females are larger than the males.  Measure 58-71 centimeters long with a wingspan of 1.5-2 meters, and weigh 1600-4200 grams.  Their average size tends to decrease from North to South and from East to West, with the largest birds in the northeastern portion of the range
• Sexes look alike.  Primarily brown-black or tawny-buff in color with prominent ear tufts (6.4-8.7 centimeters long) and a facial disk heavily marked with black, gray, and white.  Upper parts are darker than the lower parts.  The throat is white, and there is some black streaking on the lower body.  Eyes are a very pronounced orange (good identifier – the eyes are yellow in most other eagle owls, such as the great horned owl)
• Hunt through a combination of excellent sight and hearing, the later facilitated by the fact that their wings make almost no noise when flapping, allowing the owl to hear better.  Hearing isn’t as sophisticated as it is in some other owls, suggesting sight may be the most important
• Mostly nocturnal, but in times of scarcity they will hunt during the day to find more prey.  Otherwise, days are spent inactive, roosting in trees
• Eggs and owlets are vulnerable to nest raiders (especially in cases where the birds nest on the ground), but adults have no significant predators.  Nests are especially vulnerable in times of scarcity, when both parents may have to leave the nest to find sufficient food.  There have been documented cases of eagles kill eagle owls
• Over a dozen recognized subspecies.  The nominate is the European eagle owl, found over most of Europe from Scandinavia to the Balkans.  Other subspecies include the Iberian (B. b. hispanus), the South China (B. b. swinhoei), and the Ussuri (B. b. ussuriensis) in Siberia.  
• Sensitive to habitat disturbance, especially when nesting, and will abandon nest if approached too closely (outdoor activities such as skiing and mountaineering can disrupt breeding).  At the same time, they will forage in cultivated lands more often than other large raptors, since their nocturnal lifestyle allows them to do so while avoiding humans
• Sometimes persecuted directly either through shooting or poisoning (in the later case, the owls may be deliberate or accidental targets of the poison), also killed through car collisions and collisions with power lines (electrocution is the most important cause of mortality) or barbed wire fencing.  Additional threat is collection of eggs by poachers
• Underwent significant decline in southern Europe in the 1960s due to the crash of rabbit populations caused by myxomatosis
• Reintroduction programs underway in parts of northern and western Europe, including the United Kingdom, where the species had long been considered extinct.  Population is also benefiting from proliferation or rodents and other prey species associated with human activity (such as rats and pigeons) in some areas
• Eurasian eagle owls pose local conservation challenges due to their predation of some endangered species, such as Russian desman, houbara bustard, and European mink

Pounds and Pounds of Paperwork

 "It’s a joke in the zoo business, a weary joke, that the paperwork involved in trading a shrew weighs more than an elephant, that the paperwork involved in trading an elephant weighs more than a whale, and that you must never try to trade a whale, never.”

-         Yann Martel, The Life of Pi

      Zookeeping is a highly-regulated profession, and few aspects of it are more highly-regulated than the transport of animals from one facility to another.  Mr. Martel may be joking in the quote above, but not always.  The amount of documentation needed to transport animals between zoos can range from a) almost non-existent to b) a back-breaking heap which can take years to complete (literally years) to c) anywhere in between.

       The first piece of documentation drawn up at many zoos is internal paperwork - basically, the zoo staff deciding among themselves whether or not to acquire or send out a specimen.  This prevents impulse decisions (always a good idea when tigers or bears are involved) and makes sure that the animal staff, administration, and vets are all on the same page.

      The next step is usually a contract between the sender and receiver to clearly establish the rules of the transaction.  Is it a donation?  A sale - and if so, at what price?  A trade - for what?  A loan?  In that case, is it an exhibit loan, in which the receiving institution agrees to not breed the animal?  Is it a breeding loan, in which reproduction is the point, what are the terms?  How is the ownership of offspring divided among the institution that owns that mother and the one that owns the father?  Males to one, females to the other?  Even-numbered to one, odd-numbered to the other?  What other requirements might be in place?  AZA member facilities, for example, often have explicit rules in their contracts about the disposition of animals, which aim to keep them out of the pet trade or hunting industry.

As an extra complication, some animals are owned by government agencies, either domestic or foreign.  All bald eagles and red wolves in the US, for example, are owned by the US Fish and Wildlife Service.  Rodriguez fruit bats are owned by Mauritius.  Golden lion tamarins are owned by Brazil.  Giant pandas are owned by China.  These government agencies have their own rules and regulations.  For bald eagles, for instance, the US government forbids holders from engaging in behavior that suggests commercial use.

      If the species is a potentially invasive one, extra permits may be required to assure government agencies that the animal will not escape in transit, as well as that it can be securely contained at its new facility.  That's why some species, such as raccoon dogs, are so uncommon in US zoos - the government fears that they could become invasive and limits their import.  The taxa which most of these laws and regulations pertain to - plant-eating insects, which have the potential to become serious agricultural nuisances.  These animals and other similar species require a separate permit to house, and in this case yes, the permits can weigh more than the animals.  This is a reason that so many zoo and aquarium invertebrate collections are biased towards spiders and scorpions.

      If you are talking about an international transport, there are CITES permits to obtain.  If the species is just on CITES Appendix II, you require an export permit from the sending country.  If it's on the more regulated Appendix I, you also require a permit from the importing country.  These permits are meant to ascertain that the receiving facility has the ability to successfully care for the animal, that the transport will not fuel the commercial trade in endangered species, and, above all, that the transport will not prove detrimental to the wild populations.

      Even if your transportation is only within the US, states may have their own requirements.  This is especially true when the transport involves either native species or those which could carry diseases that could impact agricultural species; birds are often the subject of special requirements due to fears of Avian Influenza.  When doing a ground transport, I make a point of calling every state along the way - both their state veterinarian and whichever agency regulates wildlife - to make sure we are clear to enter.  Some states will just wave you through, especially if it's a zoo-to-zoo transport and if you aren't planning on stopping for anything other than gas and bathroom breaks.  Some have permit requirements that are so tedious that it's sometimes worth rerouting the drive to avoid them.  Of special note is Florida, which actually requires that the animal be transported by someone with hundreds of hours of experience working with that species... in Florida.

      You'll also want to share records on the animal with your transport partner facility - medical records, training logs, feed logs, husbandry notes.  Traditionally hard copies of their files were sent with the animals.  These days, this can all be done electronically using the online recordkeeping software ZIMS or TRACKS, or similar programs.  This helps the receiving facility prepare as much as possible for the animal.

      One of the last pieces of documentation that you will need is the health certificate, signed by a certified vet and verifying that the animal is fit to travel.  The certificate is officially good for 30 days, but airlines will only accept them if they are dated 10 days prior to travel.  Copies go to you, the other facility, the airline/transporter, and the state vets.  During USDA inspections and AZA accreditation visits, this paperwork is all checked on.

      So, transporting animals is seldom just an issue of tossing an animal in a car and driving.  There is a lot of paperwork and prepwork that can go into even the most basic of transactions.  Some simply require a contract and a health certificate, and then are good to go.  For others - well, in some cases it's good to start planning your transport in advance.  Far in advance.

The Panda Express

This video is a little old, but with the recent birth of another panda cub at the National Zoo, it's only a matter of time before the Panda Express flies again.  Enjoy this brief peak into what it's like to move the world's most high-profile zoo animals across the globe.

Zoo Joke: Penguins to the Zoo

I shared this joke years ago (wow, I really have been doing this for a while...) but it fit in pretty nicely with this month's theme, so I figured a little recycling never hurt anyone.

A police officer is sitting in his car by the side of the road, when he suddenly does a double take: a pick-up truck has just cruised by, with a dozen penguins riding in the bed.  Flipping on his siren, he swoops down on the pick-up and pulls it over.  Striding over to the driver-side window, he motions for the driver to step out.

"Sir," says the officer.  "I can't help but notice that you've got a lot of penguins in your truck."

"That's right," replies the driver.  "I'm taking them to the zoo."

Well, the police officer can't think of anything wrong with that, so he just smiles and waves the driver off on his way.

Later that day, the same police officer is still watching traffic, when, to his surprise, the same pick-up truck - driven by the same driver - drives by, still with a dozen penguins in the bed.  Shaking his head in disbelief, the cop chases after him and pulls him over.

"Sir!", he exclaims to the driver, "I thought you said that you were taking these penguins to the zoo!"

"I did," said the driver, amiably.  "And we had a great time!  We're going to the movies, next."

Flying FedEx

Shipping a small animal, like a house cat, across the country by air in a sky kennel is a fairly simple process.  After all, lots of people ship their pets when they move.  The process becomes a bit more complicated when you up the scale of the animal.  Say, you're talking a somewhat larger cat... like a lion.

Most commercial airplanes are fairly limited in how large a piece of cargo they can take, due to the door size on the baggage hold.  Also, it's important to remember that the cargo needs to go in pressurized hold; unlike your suitcase or your duffel bag, the animal needs to be able to breath while in transit.  Not surprisingly, most flights are not able to accommodate animals in crates much larger than those that would hold a large dog.  So what else can you do?

Surprisingly, one of the best options for traveling by air may be FedEx.

FedEx transports all sorts of livestock, from commercial poultry to race horses to, yes, zoo animals.  From its live animal desk, animal shipments across the country can be coordinated.  Shipments of large zoo animals require the presence of usually two trained attendants, who will actually accompany the animal in the cargo hold during the flight.  These attendants must undergo a thorough screening before they are permitted to fly, since they have access to almost the entire plane during travel.  A FedEx shipment is not something that you book on a whim.  Because of the size of the animals usually involved, the airfare for the attendants, and (assuming you want your keepers back), the commercial airfare to get back to your zoo, FedEx transports tend to be much more expensive than shipping animals by Delta or American.  It'll cost in the thousands of dollars, as opposed to the hundreds.

One interesting quirk about FedEx is that the vast majority of their flights all connect at their main hub in Memphis.  That means you don't usually get a direct flight anywhere (unless you are or are shipping to the Memphis Zoo).  Instead, you fly from, say, DC to Memphis, unload, then reload at Memphis and fly to San Diego.  On the one hand, it makes it easy to plan travel.  On the other, that means an extra set of loading and unloading a crate containing a large and potentially dangerous animal, and based on my observations, the loading and unloading process is the part of the transport that most animals (and keepers) find the most stressful.  There has been more than one occasion on which I've looked at the flight plan from the airlines, looked at Google Maps, and said, "Oh heck, we'll just drive it..."

The FedEx hub in Memphis is not a relaxing place.  There are hundreds of planes on the ground at any time, swarmed by a vast fleet of carts and trams zooming all over the place with luggage, popping in and out of various warehouses, each larger than some zoos I've worked in.  There is, theoretically, a designated holding building for zoo animals in transport, where their crates can be kept dark and quiet while waiting for their next flight.  I wouldn't know about that - the one time I took FedEx, the room was taken, so my animal and I spent five long, loud hours in a busy warehouse, hoping no one would back over us with a forklift.

Still, to give you an idea of how safe and reliable FedEx transport normally is, look no further than the most famous animal passengers that use the service - the giant pandas of the National Zoo.  As per contract agreement, all pandas born in the US are the property of the Chinese government and are to be repatriated at a certain age. FedEx is the company that transports them there.  Fun fact: While almost all FedEx planes are christened after the children of FedEx employees, the planes that transport the pandas back to China are all named after the individual pandas themselves.

Crate and Barrel

A cockatoo chewing its way out of a crate could be a scary thought while in transit.  Two friends of mine once had worse.  They were driving two otters across several states in a van, when about halfway through their trip, the otters got the idea of chewing in their heads as well.  Soon, a modest hole began to form in the corner of their shared crate, and the increasingly nervous keepers kept looking over their shoulders to see little brown noses appearing in the hole.  It wouldn't be too much longer, they realized, before a whole otter could slip out.

They were too far to go back, and the only way was forward, so they did the only thing they could think of.  They pulled over at a large chain pet store, and while one keeper watched the otters, batting their noses back in whenever they made a cameo, the other ran in and bought the biggest, sturdiest crate she could find.  Then, they tossed the entire smaller crate, otters and all, into the big one, then continued their drive.  At a considerably faster pace than they had driven before.

Ideally, stuff like that doesn't happen.

Most of the time, it doesn't.  When prepping an animal for shipment, I spend a lot of time on crate selection.  Usually a standard sky kennel will do the trick.  These are made for dogs and cats, generally, so many zoos also have wooden or metal crates of various sizes and shapes which may have been customized for different species.  For simplicity's sake, we'll just focus on the shipment of a generic small bird or small mammal that's using a normal sky kennel for this scenario.

The size is the part I struggle with the most.  Unlike animal enclosures, in which bigger usually equals better, here balance is important.  You want something big enough for the animal to stand, turn around, and lie down - and not do too much else.  You don't want animals to gain momentum and potentially hurt themselves; besides, airlines charge by the volume of the animal cargo, as it tends to weigh less than standard cargo.  I once received two small parrots in a crate that could have easily held a condor, and they were practically flying around in it.  When they arrived at our zoo, we joked that we should just put the crate out on grounds, put some plantings around it and a sign, and call it their aviary.

(The exception to the crate size rule would be if the animal is going to be in it for a long period of time unrelated to travel, such as if you have to crate a bunch of animals and bring them in for an emergency, such as a hurricane.  In that case, bigger is better).

Furnishings are minimal.  For birds, a simple perch will do.  Two small bowls for food and water can be fixed to the front of the crate, or a water bottle on the outside.  For plant eaters like parrots and monkeys, I try to provide some wet fruit like grapes in the bowl so they can get moisture from that.  I have very little faith in the animals actually drinking from water bowls, which probably just slosh out everywhere, but it's an airline requirement, so there's that.  For flooring, you can do a nonslip mat or astroturf.  I usually recommend wood shavings.

The open areas of the crate - the front door and the side holes - should be covered with burlap or some other screen, as I learned on my first duck shipping adventure.  I try to leave myself an access point where I can peel it back a bit and take a look inside now and then, just to make sure everyone is doing OK.  When shipping by air, I label the crates prominently with their destination and contents, as well as "This Way Up" stickers and the like, as well as attaching their necessary paperwork in an envelope taped to the crate.  This isn't as important as when the crate is being driven by staff.

For destructive chewers, like parrots and rodents - and, apparently, otters - I make a metal wire cage within the crate, which keeps the animal from gnawing its way out.  The crate should be almost the exact same size as the interior of the sky kennel.  Then, I put the animal in the cage, close it with J-clips or zipties, then assemble the crate around it.  The sides of the kennel should be held in place with screws or nuts and bolts, not zipties or wire.

Last step after the animal goes in and you don't need access again until it arrives?  Ziptie the door of the crate shut, ideally in two or three locations, just to keep inquisitive fingers from opening the door.  When transporting animals, always have ready supplies of tape, zipties, and scissors with you.

Then, you should be ready to go.

Wrath of the Cockatoo

Among the most important aspects of any animal transport is the selection and preparation of the actual crate which will contain the animal in transit.  Choose well and your animal will have a safe and secure trip to its destination.  Choose poorly, and, well... this isn't my picture, but it fairly accurately depicts things I've seen before...

Species Fact Profile: Palm Cockatoo (Probosciger aterrimus)

Palm Cockatoo

Probosciger aterrimus (Gmelin, 1788)

Range: New Guinea, Northern Australia (Cape York Peninsula), Aru Islands, and other islands in the region

Habitat: Lowland rainforest (up to 1350 meters elevation), as well as densely wooded savannah.  Their main habitat requirement is an availability of large trees for nesting

Diet: Leaf Buds, Seeds, Fruits.  Occasional insects

Social Grouping: Pairs, Small Flocks (up to 6 birds)

Reproduction: Breeding season varies by location, but usually happens August through January.  Monogamous for life.  Display for one another with extended wings, bowing, and whistling.  Nest in cavities in large trees, lined with broken twigs.  A single egg is incubated by both parents for 30-33 days.  Chicks fledge at 100-110 days (the longest period of any parrot), then is dependent on its parents for an additional 6 weeks.  Sexually mature at 7-8 years old

Lifespan: Estimated 80 Years +, Documented 60 Years

Conservation Status: IUCN Least Concern, CITES Appendix I

• 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
• Largest of the cockatoos and largest parrot in Australia, measuring 49-68 centimeters long and weighing 500 to 1100 grams, with males being slightly larger on average than the females
• Plumage is black, with a 15 centimeter tall crest of erectile feathers on top of the head.  The legs are greyish-black, as is the beak.  The only patch of color is red facial marking; this patch of skin will change color depending on the health and stress levels of the animal, ranging from pink to yellow.  Sexes look alike; juveniles differ from adults in having pale yellow under-feathers, a white tip to the beak, and a white ring around the eye
• The large, powerful beak never fully closes, leaving a red, black-tipped tongue constantly exposed.  This allows the bird to hold a nut against the top mandible with its tongue while the lower mandible works to open it.  Males have larger beaks than females.  Second largest bill of any parrot (only that of the hyacinth macaw is larger)
• They will maintain territories, beating on trees with sticks (up to 15 centimeters long and 2.5 centimeters in diameter) or nuts like drums to advertise their occupancy of a territory (sometimes beating as many as 200 times).  It is one of the few bird species known to use tool
• Highly vocal, one of the loudest parents.  The most common call is a contact call, a disyllabic whistle.  They can also make a harsh screech when alarmed, as well as grunts and wails.  Distinct dialects have been reported across the species range
• Primarily feed in the canopy, but may come to the forest floor to feed on fallen fruit.  They are possibly important seed dispersers for some species
• They have been observed eating soil from clay licks, possibly in order to bind with toxic compounds in some of the plants that they eat
• Three to four recognized subspecies, differing slightly in size, crest shape, and color.  The nominate. a. aterrimus, is from northern Australia and nearby islands.  P. a. goliath is the largest, from west Irian and the Papuan islands, and P. a. stenolopus is from New Guinea.  Some authorities additionally recognize P. a. macgillivrayi.  Some authorities suggest that only P. a. goliath is a valid subspecies. 
• Primary threat is the loss of habitat due to logging and fire (though natural fires are an important feature for developing tree cavities), which especially impacts the availability of the large trees needed for nesting.  They can be tolerant of some habitat disturbance and the presence of humans, even visiting houses and taking food from people
• Additional threat is illegal capture of birds for sale on the pet trade.  Most palm cockatoos in the US are descended from birds taken from a large confiscation by USFWS of approximately 100 birds in 1983.  Birds that the government did not place in zoos were sold to the private sector, helping to establish this species in the US

Did You Check the Mail?

Shipping eggs from zoo-to-zoo can be a complicated, nerve-racking process if you aren't use to it.  Shipping eggs, as farmers typically do it, is fairly routine.  They just package them up and send them in the mail.  It turns out, you can send all sorts of weird things in the mail.  Including more exciting poultry.

Working at one facility, I was the proud caretaker of a big, beautiful, and extremely ornery blue-eared pheasant.  Okay, maybe "beautiful" was stretching it.  Truth be told, he looked and acted like one of the more deranged Muppets.  Still, I was very fond of him, not least of all because he savagely beat up and scarred - emotionally and physically - my thoroughly mean and unpleasant direct supervisor, to the point where she became too scared to go in with him, and other keepers followed her example.  As a result, I became Blue's (we were all real original with naming animals back then) sole caretaker.  When the time came to get a female for him, I think I was the only one who was excited.

On the day that she was supposed to arrive, I waited with eagerness.  Then I waited with boredom.  Then nervousness.  Then dread.  Where the heck was that bird?  We had ordered her from a breeder (there being few of the species in other zoos), so I was expecting a delivery van to pull up with her.  But nothing happened.  Until the end of the day, that is.

Our groundskeeper, who had been out in town doing errands, pulled up to the office in his truck.  He handed me a small cardboard box, not much bigger than a shoebox, that had been left by the mailbox.  It had airholes... and it was moving, slightly.

I thought that there was no way that this could be it.  It didn't look anywhere near the size of what I was expecting.  Still, it was a package with airholes, and the barely legible return address matched up.  I took it into our quarantine barn. I opened it up.

It wouldn't be accurate to say that the pheasant hen stepped out.  It would be closer to the truth to say that she unfolded, like a piece of origami.  Staring at her next to the package she came it, I wondered how on earth she fit in there.  I also wondered how long she'd been out there by the mailbox, waiting for someone to notice her.  I made a mental note not to get birds from this source again.

Still, the hen seemed none the worse the wear from her adventure, and after a few weeks in quarantine, was ready to meet Blue.  

Eggs in the Air

Many of my animal shipments have involved birds, with waterfowl representing a sizable proportion of those.  I love ducks, geese, and swans, but they can be a pain to ship.  The main reason is that many state veterinarians impose special testing requirements for birds, especially for domestic birds - or birds that are close enough to domestic birds, such as wild waterfowl and pheasants - coming into their states.  Those tests can require blood draws, x-rays, or other procedures which can be maddeningly difficult with small birds.

One option which can circumvent this problem - while admittedly, creating a whole new set of problems - is to not ship the birds.  Instead, ship the eggs.

Shipping live, fertilized eggs is a relatively new concept in zoo bird-keeping, and it does have its advantages, mainly in the form of health testing.  Another advantage is that it lets you have an egg laid by a pair of birds that might be genetically valuable as breeders, but awful as parents.  You can instead send the egg somewhere else to be raised by foster parents, either of the same species or a closely related one, so they are raised by other birds rather than humans.

Shipping eggs also has its drawbacks - being more time sensitive and temperature sensitive.  Eggs must be packaged carefully, making sure there is a balance between safety from breaking and ability to breathe.  The exterior packaging must be labeled to prevent rough handling or x-ray exposure.  Temperature is also critical - most shippers include a temp logger in the package to make sure that the eggs are staying at their optimum warmth.

Perhaps most importantly, the time must be just right - ideally between internal pipping (the chick starting to hatch) and external pipping (the egg shell actually breaking).  You want the eggs to hatch shortly after they arrive at their destination.  You do not want the recipient to open the box and find a bunch of chicks flopping around.  For this reason, delays in shipping are bad.  Here is where FedEx overnight is your friend. 

I would prefer ground transport for eggs, if its a short-enough distance and feasible.  It lets you periodically check on and adjust the egg's environment, plus you have eyes on it all the time.

Ideally, your eggs get their safe and sound and they can be plopped into your incubator - or under a willing surrogate mom - to finish the process and hatch out.  Then, they can be welcomed to your facility good as new.

Three Ducks on Three Planes

 “I’m leavin’ on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again. Oh babe, I hate to go.”

 -          John Denver, Leaving On a Jet Plane

Years ago, back when I was very new at shipping animals, we had a clutch of ducklings hatch out at our zoo.  I was very excited, beyond the usual level of excitement surrounding baby animals, because these ducks belonged to a species that was fairly uncommon in zoos, so it was a nice accomplishment for us.  As the ducks grew and matured, I found homes for them at three different facilities around the country.  By luck, I was able to book flights for them all on the same day, though on different airlines.

I prepared the ducks for travel, packing each one in an identical crate.  The flights were early in the morning, and I got to the airport at about 4 AM.  That’s when things got difficult.

All three airlines initially rejected the ducks and refused to ship them.  All three cited a different reason.

The first airline refused because they said that the crate wasn’t adequately covered.  The wanted all open sides and the front to be covered with something  - one employee told me that it was to keep the animal calm, the other told me it was so baggage handlers wouldn’t get bitten… by a half-pound duck.  Frantically, I drove around until I found a Wal-Mart that was open at 4AM.  I ran in and bought some scissors, a bag of zip-ties, and a roll of screen-door material, then ran back out to the car.  I carefully cut out screen and put it over all of the exposed areas, fixing it in place with zip-ties.  It was flimsy and really didn’t do much to cover the crate, but the airline employees accepted it.  The duck was put on its plane.

The second airline refused because the duck didn’t have food with it (neither did the first duck, but that airline never mentioned it as a problem).  I argued that it was a two-hour direct flight, no layover.  The duck wouldn’t eat in that time out of stress from travel.  An affixed food dish was one more thing that it would bang into if it got frightened.  Eventually, they relented, as long as I signed a statement saying that it was okay that it didn’t have food and that I was sure it would be alright.  The duck was put on its plane.

The third airline refused because the duck was too old.  Granted, it wasn’t even sexually mature yet, but their regulations said that it had to be under a week old to ship.  I was baffled.  If I’d started the transaction the process on the day that the duck hatched, I couldn’t have gotten it ready to ship in less than a week.  They were adamant – ducks older than one week couldn’t fly… never mind the other two ducks I just shipped that morning.  I told them that I had personally picked up several adult ducks of various species from this same airport before.  They didn’t care.  Suddenly, I decided that the hang up was the word “duck.”  I redid the paperwork, calling the bird a "teal".  The duck  teal was put on its plane.

(Later, I found out that this was a rule that was meant for domestic waterfowl being shipped.  I’ve since learned that 99% of airline animal transport problems can be solved simply by saying “This is a zoo-to-zoo transport.”)

As I drove back to the zoo in the pre-dawn darkness, the car thankfully empty of ducks, I let out a huge sigh of relief.  Next time, I vowed, would be smoother.

And, in a sense, it was.  I continue to have periodic problems, but each shipment I’ve done, I’ve learned more about the rules and regulations and gotten better.  Sometimes I’ve needed to explain the rules to the airline employees, many of whom have seldom dealt with an animal shipment other than a dog or cat, and I’ve been in a position to be the expert – which certainly felt odd at the time.

A few years later, I visited one of my former ducks at his new home.  It was a beautiful habitat, and my awkward little duckling had matured into a handsome boy with full adult plumage.  He had a pretty female by his side, and the keepers were hopeful of ducklings in the future.  As stressful as transfers can be (both on the animals and the transporters), they can also be very satisfying and lead to happy endings. 

If only there had been some way to let that duck know how close he came to missing his plane.

The Shipping Seasons

The return of cool, temperate weather, coupled with the semi-normalization of life amidst the coronavirus pandemic, brings a few touches of the usual back to life at the zoo.  Among those seasonal changes, as we exit the summer, we enter the shipping season.  

Spring and fall are the two seasons during which most animal transports take place between zoos, taking advantage of the more moderate weather, the reduced bustle of crowds, and generally having the time to actually do them.  This month, I'll be sharing some stories about animal transports and detailing what goes into getting animals from Point A to Point B, and all of the things that can - and occasionally do - go wrong in between.