Monsters and Menageries

"Here, There Be Monsters."

Matthew Reilly's The Great Zoo of China wasn't the most inspired piece of fiction that I ever read, but it was at least a little fun.  From a professional perspective, it was worth the read just for the amusement of wondering what it would be like to take care of dragons, much like how Jurassic Park led to speculation about being a dinosaur keeper.  

It's a pretty popular topic of idle chat among keepers whenever fantasy or sci-fi introduces weird creatures to the public, from Star Wars to Harry Potter.  One of my favorite science fiction books is George R. R. Martin's (of Game of Thrones fame) Tuf Voyaging, in which a simple merchantman discovers a high-tech spaceship which is a essentially a genetic ark, able to produce clones of countless species from across the galaxy.  Recently, I witnessed a surprisingly engaged debate among a group of keepers who were Harry Potter fans, arguing the ethical merits of keeping centaurs, mermaids, and other half-human, half-animal creatures in zoos.  

The consensus, in case you were curious, was that it would be unethical, although there was some interest in seeing if centaurs/mermaids/et al would possibly be interested in working as keepers.  These are the sorts of things that we talk about in order to keep from talking about other things (i.e., a deadly global pandemic, a crashing economy, etc).

Of course, what got my mind going then was that a monster is really just an animal that we aren't familiar with.  To the Europeans who first came to the Americas, Africa, and Asia, the landscape must have seemed to be full of "monsters," as surely as the Native Americans who first saw heavily-armored battle horses must have found them monstrous.  When the first crates of sloths and anteaters and orangutans and kangaroos arrived in Europe, destined for royal menageries, the caretakers who opened them must have been shocked at the monsters that they suddenly found themselves confronted with.

It would have been hard for people back then to really know the differences between an animal that was some sort of monster or freak (such as a calf born with two faces or five legs), one that they might never have seen but "knew" existed because it was referenced in the Bible or other texts (such as unicorns - when Marco Polo voyaged through Asia, he was convinced that the rhinos that he encountered were unicorns... and he was severely disappointed with them), and ones that we today just recognize as... well... animals.  When the first pygmy hippos were presented to Europeans, some were convinced that they were really dwarf, deformed common hippos.  And imagine seeing a giraffe?  No wonder that so many people were convinced that many of the exotic animals that they saw were really hybrids of other, more recognizable ones. 

It's also interesting to remember, as we walk around zoo grounds, that hundreds of years ago, access to collections of animals such as modern zoos and aquariums would have been limited to the extremely powerful, such as princes and popes, their guests, and the servants who actually cared for them.  That probably only heightened the sense in the common folks that the creatures kept behind their rulers' walls were some kind of strange monsters, as fanciful as dragons and griffons and unicorns.

I kind of enjoy that thought - that every animal I see when I walk around the zoo is, in its own sense, a little monster.  None breathe fire, to be sure, but some fly, or carry babies in pockets, or move without legs, or spit venom, or breathe underwater, or change color or shape.  This Halloween, we're having a scaled-down version of our usual event, so there will be some trick-or-treating, with kids dressed up as ghosts, goblins, and vampires.  I'm glad that they're getting at least a little taste of "normal" for Halloween - but the best monsters are already at the zoo waiting for them.

Are You Registered To Vote?

In case any of our American readers haven't heard, there's some sort of an election next week.  If you were not aware of this fact, you have my most sincere congratulations.  I, too, wish that I had spent all of 2020 so far in a bunker.

The Presidential race between Joe Biden and Donald Trump has caught 99% of the attention, with the remaining 1% devoted to a few high profile Senate races.  It's important to remember, however, that not all of the important decisions are made on a national stage.  There are plenty that happen on a more local level, from state environmental regulations to city policies that may govern zoos and aquariums.

It's not enough to show up at the polls or fill out an absentee ballot.  It is incumbent upon all of us to be informed about the issues on a local, regional, national, and international level, and vote in a way that will help shape the kind of world that we will be living in.  Surely a few annoying Facebook reminders and radio ads aren't too much of a price to pay for that?

I saw these meme attributed to Sam Sutton, but if it has a different origin, please let me know and credit will be given to the content creator.  Thanks!

Book Review: The Great Zoo of China

I may have had some very bad, very scary days at the zoo before... but I've never had any like Dr. Cassandra Jane "CJ" Cameron.  That being said, neither has anyone else, because she's not real.  She's the protagonist of Matthew Reilly's 2014 sci-fi/thriller/adventure novel, The Great Zoo of China.  The plot is easy enough to sum up - take Jurassic Park, but instead of dinosaurs, substitute dragons.  Then, instead of an eccentric billionaire (lovable in the movies, sinister in the books), put it in the hands of the Chinese Communist Party.  It goes about as well as you would expect it to.

CJ Cameron is one of a select group of westerners who the Chinese have invited on a tour to unveil their masterpiece - 40 years in the making - to the rest of the world.  A herpetologist specializing in crocodiles (and with the scars to prove it), she is given a sneak-peek of the dragon facilities before they open up to the public, just like Alan Grant and friends in the Crichton novels.  Just like the Crichton novels, the dragons (which are themselves presented as a strain of dinosaurs which cheated extinction) prove to be a heck of a lot smarter and harder to control than their caretakers anticipated. 

As with Jurassic Park and its sequels, I find the pre-chaos-rampage parts of the book to be the most interesting.  It's fun to read about how the zoo worked (was supposed to work, at any rate) - where the dragons came from, what they ate, how they were housed and cared for.  It's this part of the book that really lets Reilly show some imagination and innovation, and his descriptions of the tour of the zoo are enjoyable and fun.  After the dragons get loose (and let's be honest, this isn't a spoiler - why else would you write this book if not to turn the dragons loose?), the story becomes predictable and cliche.  Lots of running, lots of screaming, lots of gory deaths, with the reader being able to predict well in advance who is going to live and die,.

It's a fun concept, and will probably be optioned as a movie at some point (assuming theaters ever open up again to the extent that Hollywood thinks movies are worth making).  It's just a poorly written and over the top book with nonstop action scenes which make you want to shake your head.  I'm sorry, I kept thinking, all of you are dead by this point.  Stop trying to convince me otherwise.  I'm still also trying to decide how I feel about the author's depiction of China and the Chinese.  Parts struck me as a little... problematic (especially in light of the anti-Chinese sentiment which has been brewing since COVID-19 made the scene earlier this year).

That being said, if you're up for a monster book with a zoo twist and you aren't inclined to take it too seriously, this can provide some diversion.  It is a lighter, much less technical book than Jurassic Park, which sometimes I have a hard time mustering the energy to get through.  Still, there's suspension of disbelief, and then there's The Great Zoo of China.

The Great Zoo of China at Amazon.com

Zookeeper Horror Stories

"So what else have you done stupid in your life?"

- Peter Brazaitis, You Belong In a Zoo!

My boss had been on the road transporting animals for the past few weeks.  It was a side hustle that helped him support his personal zoo, where I was employed as a keeper.  On the morning of his return from a cross-country haul, he parked his truck out back, then tossed me the keys to the attached trailer.  He told me, sleepily, that there were three crates of parrots in the second stall, and that I should bring them inside the reptile house for the night to keep them warm.  Without further comment, he disappeared for the bathroom, the kitchen, and then bed.

Taking the keys, I opened the second stall - without peeking inside first, which admittedly was not the brightest move on my part.  

There weren't parrots inside.

Instead, I found myself locking eyes with a very large and very cantankerous bull sable antelope, jet black and snow white, with a pair of horns each thicker than my wrists at the base.  I spent a millisecond trying to decide whether I should a) slam the door shut and lock it back up, or b) run.  Fortunately, before that millisecond had passed, I had already started on option "a."  Half a second after I latched the door shut, the entire trailer shook as the bull crashed his horns into the side.  

My boss, his fly down, stomped outside and demanded to know what the ruckus was, and why I hadn't gotten those parrots moved in yet.  

The parrots, it turns out, were in the third stall.

I can, thankfully, count on two hands the number of times in my career where I have legitimately been terrified.  Not scared that I was going to get yelled at, possibly fired, or that I was going to embarrass myself and maybe lose a shot at a promotion.   Actually, literally, "So-this-is-how-I'm-going-to-die, or at least be irreparably damaged, scared.   When those moments happen, it's usually because I did something dumb... like take it on faith that my sleep-deprived boss knew the difference between "Stall 2" and "Stall 3."  Other times, it's because someone else did something dumb, and I was just in the way.

Stories like this can make good conversation pieces later in life, make you feel like a veteran who's seen and done a thing or two in their time.  In the moment, they are horrifying.  The memories that I've had so far are ones that I treasure as learning lessons.  As valuable as they've been to my development as a keeper, however, I'm not actively trying to get more of them.

Species Fact Profile: Louisiana Pine Snake (Pituophis ruthveni)

Louisiana Pine Snake

Pituopis ruthveni (Stull, 1929)

Range: South-Central United States (west-central Louisiana and east Texas)

Habitat: Longleaf Pine Forests with sandy, well-drained soils and grassy understory

Diet: Rodents (especially Baird's pocket gopher), Rabbits, Ground-Nesting Birds, Amphibians, Eggs

Social Grouping: Solitary

Reproduction: Sexual maturity is reached at about 1.2 meter in length at about 3 years of age.   Eggs are laid 21 days after mating, followed by a 60 day incubation period.  Have the smallest clutches (1-5, but usually 3-4) and largest eggs (12 centimeters by 5 centimeters) of any North American snake; also has the largest hatchlings, at 45-55 centimeters at 107 grams

Lifespan: 20 Years

Conservation Status: IUCN Endangered

• Body length typically 1.2-1.5 meters, through record length is 1.7 meters
• Background coloration is buff to yellow, with dark brown or black splotches along the body, “busier” around the neck, the pattern becoming more netlike down the body length.  Belly is predominately buff or yellow, marked with black
• Background coloration is buff to yellow, with dark brown or black splotches along the body, “busier” around the neck, the pattern becoming more netlike down the body length.  Belly is predominately buff or yellow, marked with black·         
• Non-venomous.  Prey is not killed by constriction, but rather by pressing it up against the walls of its burrows and crushing it.  
• When provoked and unable to retreat, may imitate a rattlesnake, hissing loudly, flattening its head, and buzzing its tail
• Spend up to 60% of their lives underground, when underground, primarily take refuge in gopher burrows.    Also use gopher burrows for hibernation sites.  Very well adapted in fire – quickly move into gopher burrows in presence of fire, all snakes monitored in sites of controlled burns have survived with no damage
• Move short distance (less than 10 meters per day) in the late morning and mid-afternoon, coming to the surface to forage or to thermoregulate.  No seasonal migrations observed, but in Louisiana snakes observed making relatively long distance moves once a year, males in late spring or early summer, females in late summer.  Seasonally are most active in spring and fall, least active in summer and winter
• Primary threat to survival is degradation of habitat and alteration of native fire cycles.  Has disappeared from several of the counties and parishes where it once occurred.  Longleaf pines have been replaced with faster growing loblolly pines for forest management; loblollies do not allow as much sunshine to reach the forest floor, which alters the habitat, whereas fire reduction has reduced the available microhabitat for the pocket gophers the snake eats
• Captive-breeding and reintroduction program in progress, with the first snakes released back into the wild in 2010.  The restoration plan also calls for prescribed burning and replanting of longleaf pine forests, forming partnerships with local landowners for conservation easements 

From the News: San Diego Zoo scientists clone endangered horse

 San Diego Zoo scientists revive cells from 40-year deep freeze to clone endangered horse

You may have heard of Dolly, the sheep - now meet Kurt, the horse!  Specifically, Kurt is a newborn Przewalski's wild horse, originally found on the steppes of Central Asia.  But Kurt's story is much more complicated than that.  You see, he is a clone from a horse that had its cells frozen 40 years ago.  It's the latest in the struggle to use advances in reproductive technology to save endangered species - possibly even having the potential to bring recently-extinct species back to life.

Happy International Sloth Day!

 Happy International Sloth Day!  Photo Credit: Texas State Aquarium.

Bone Appetit

Hard to believe that Halloween is less than two weeks away... in part because it's hard to believe that we are STILL in 2020.  But, enough about that...

'Tis the season for Halloween decorations, so I figured I'd share a perennial favorite, one that I see in stores ever year in October.  Behold, the skeleton spider:

In case you were staring at it and going, "... so?", spiders do not have skeletons, because they do not, in fact, have bones.  Neither to octopuses:

Other animals do have bones, but maybe not in the configuration or places that some of these props seem to suggest.  Vultures, for example, have lots of bones.  Their feathers do not.  Ok Spirit Halloween stores, back to Biology 101 for you and your design teams!

Autumn Enrichment at St. Louis Zoo

 

Everyone wants to get into the fall spirit, even the zoo animals... or, especially the zoo animals.  Check out this fun Halloween enrichment from the keepers at the St. Louis Zoo!

From the News: Lemur Stolen from San Francisco Zoo Found in Daly City

Lemur Stolen from San Francisco Zoo Found in Daly City

As if zoos and aquariums didn't have enough nonsense and heartache that they've had to deal with this year, some idiot felt the need to pile this on as well.  Maki, a 21-year old ring-tailed lemur, was found missing from his enclosure earlier this week, with the door found forced open.  Perhaps a thief carried him off and then either released him or had him escape.  Perhaps the lemur escaped as soon as the door was pried open.  Right now, who knows?  What is important is that this social, geriatric animal is back in his home.  

Maki, a 21-year-old ring-tailed lemur, was returned to the zoo this week after police said he was stolen from his enclosure. He was noticed first by a 5-year-old boy.

No one has been charged with the kidnapping (though some rather heartless people on social media felt decided that it *must* have been an inside job, adding to the misery of the keepers).  Hopefully, whoever is responsible for this act is found.  

My advice?  Start snooping around the hospitals and see if anyone shows up with a lot of suspicious bites and scratches.

Update: A suspect has been arrested in the theft.  The young child who spotted the lost Maki has also been awarded a lifetime membership to the San Francisco Zoo

The Costumed Komodo

I can't talk about the practice of zoo animals wearing costumes without mentioning one of the quirkier experiences of my career.  A casual acquaintance of mine - not someone I know terribly well, more by face and reputation - was a reptile keeper at a large Southern zoo.  Among her charges - and her favorite - was a very large male Komodo dragon.

A Komodo dragon is a large, powerful animal, one with the potential to inflict a lot of harm on a keeper.  Still, they are very intelligent, charismatic animals, and keepers can easily get attached to them.  She was certainly attached to this big boy.  One of the ways that she expressed it was by periodically dressing him up in costumes. 

This wasn't something that she did for zoo PR or anything.  She just did it for fun.  I'm not sure if she just took them around Halloween, or if it was whenever the fancy struck her.  Of course she took pictures, but these she only shared among a close number of friends.

These pics didn't stay with her friends, however.  They were shared (this was, admittedly, in the early days of social media, so we were all a bit more naive back then - I don't have any saved).  I remember seeing two of them, shown to me by friends she had sent them to.  In one, the dragon was Harry Potter, with a pair of glasses, a red-and-yellow striped scarf, and a lightning bolt scar drawn between this eyes.  In the other, he was a pirate, with a pirate hat and a plastic hook cupped over his front paw (no eye-patch).  In both, he looked fairly ridiculous.

Eventually, these pictures found their way to the attention of her bosses, who were... less than pleased.  She was told in no uncertain that the costume shenanigans were to end.  As far as I know, they did.  She's still employed there, as far as I know.  Maybe she just decided not to share anymore.

The picture below is a different Komodo at a different zoo (St. Augustine Alligator Farm).  He's not wearing a full costume either, just a party hat, to celebrate its birthday.  Perhaps just getting that on him was exciting enough.

Photo Credit: St. Augustine Record

So, What Are You Wearing?

We are about two weeks out from Halloween, and this is the time of year when our collective zoo marketing departments start kicking it into holiday overdrive.  With a year as rough as this one has been (and continues to be), they want to do all they can to give the zoo good PR, make some headlines, and encourage visitors to come in through the gates (in a responsible, socially-distanced manner, of course).  Staples of Halloween zoo fun include trick or treating, costume contests, and celebrations of some of our "scarier" animals.

In some cases, the costumes aren't just worn by the humans.  That part can get a little... controversial.

This morning, I sat bemused watching a rage-fueled war break out on Facebook over a small paper witch hat, which someone placed on top of a pet blue-tongued skink lizard (essentially the reptilian version of a kielbasa).  Some of the commentators thought it was cute, or at the very list, neutral, as it did the skink no harm, and it could waddle off whenever it wanted to, dislodging its little ornament.  The others were apoplectic with disgust that something so undignified could be done to an animal, and what kind of message it sent, and the lack of respect it showed the lizard, and so on.

I'm not saying these people disapproved.  I'm saying they were an-gry.

Some zoos and aquariums dress up some of their animals for Halloween, and the reactions when they do can be just as harsh and divided.  Some people call it enrichment, on the grounds that you can sort of call anything you do with an animal outside of basic cleaning and feeding enrichment.  Others are very mindful of the message and worry that doing things like this cheapens the animal and makes it seem like a pet or a toy rather than a living being worthy of respect and conservation.  I tend to lean more towards the later, but perhaps not as angrily.

Obviously anything that would stress the animal out or put its safety at risk (a costume that could get tangled on something, or where the animal could rip off an ingest a piece of it), that's bad news.  But truth be told, 99% of the time, I doubt that the animal cares.  If you'd placed a leaf on top of the skink's head, the reaction would have been the same.  It would have sat there, and then fallen off, and the lizard would get on with its day.  I can still see the viewpoint of not wanting to do things that would promote irresponsible behavior towards the animals, like impulse pet buying under the assumption that you could take your fennec fox out like a chihuahua in a purse, dressed in silly costumes.  

Something I've come to realize, working with animals for so long, is that the care we provide them - the environment, diet, enrichment, how we interact with them - tends to tell us a lot more about the keepers than it does the actual animals.  

A Bad Week for Bad Zoos

 "Notoriety wasn't as good as fame, but was heaps better than obscurity."

- Neil Gaiman, Good Omens

I wonder if Doc Antle would agree.

The past few days has been a slew of bad news for the stars of the sensational Netflix series Tiger King.  Bhagavan "Doc" Antle, proprietor of Myrtle Beach Safari, was charged with wildlife trafficking and animal cruelty.  Tim Stark of Wildlife in Need was arrested several states from home after fleeing his property and going on the lam, wanted in questioning for some missing animals he was supposed to surrender.  Jeff Lowe, heir-apparent of series star Joe Exotic, has lost his zoo license and is attempting a comeback with a virtual zoo, but its legality remains up for debate.

Myrtle Beach Safari owner, 'Tiger King' star charged with animal cruelty in Virginia

Wildlife in Need zoo owner Tim Stark's time ont he run ends with arrest in New York

'Tiger King' zoo owner loses license, plots new animal venture

The "Tiger King" himself, Joe Exotic, is, of course, still in jail for attempting to hire a hit-man to kill his arch-rival, Big Cat Rescue's Carole Baskin, but is holding out hope for a pardon from President Trump.  It's 2020, so who's to say it will or won't happen?

What Antle and Stark were doing was illegal all the while... but I wonder if they would have been able to slide under the table, ignored, if not for the extra scrutiny that TV stardom brought them (lessons may not have been learned - prior to these charges, Antle was announcing that he was going to star in his own spin-off series of Tiger King).

When I see stories like these, I always get embarrassed.  I worry that the general public will just latch onto the word "zoo" in the article headlines and develop a poor opinion of our profession.  And, to be fair, I consider folks like Tim Stark to be genuinely embarrassing - an embarrassment to zookeeping.  I've said before on this blog, I have no inherent bias against zoos that aren't members of AZA, and there are plenty of privately owned facilities that take great care of their animals and make meaningful contributions to conservation and education.  

At the same time, there are abusers out there who deserve to be exposed and have their animals removed from their subpar care.  

Satire: Philosophical Koala

 

Brazil Comes to Houston

This weekend, the Houston Zoo unveils its stunning new exhibit, sure to become one of the best in the nation - The Pantanal.  Named after the tropical wetlands the straddle the borders of Brazil, Paraguay, and Bolivia, this exhibit celebrates the zoo's long history of supporting conservation work in this imperiled region, which is home to some of greatest concentrations of wildlife in South America.   Jaguars,  giant anteaters, giant otters, capybara, and green anacondas are among the star attractions.  Visitors can marvel at creatures great and small, from Baird's tapirs, the largest land animals on the continent, to tiny poison dart frogs, watch aquatic animals swim underwater, or observe mixed-species panoramas of wildlife mill about in large, well-planted enclosures.  It looks breathtaking, and I can't wait to see it.

This year has been a rough one for so many people, and zoos and aquariums have certainly felt the financial pinch.  The money needed to bring the Pantanal to Houston had already been raised, budgeted, and spent before anyone ever heard of COVID-19.   The wheels were already in motion and it was too late to halt them by the time we all realized how bad things were.  I'm not sure how much major construction and development we're going to be seeing at our facilities in the next few years, as we (hopefully) recover from this financial disaster.  Still, as a community we could all use a few wins.

Something as spectacular as Pantanal certainly counts as a win for Houston.

Get a sneak peek at the Houston Zoo's first-in-the-nation Pantanal exhibit, opening this weekend

Species Fact Profile: Painted Terrapin (Batagur borneoensis)

Painted Terrapin

Batagur borneoensis (Schlegel & Muller, 1844)

Range: Southeast Asia and Indonesia

Habitat: Inland Estuaries, Tidal Areas, Large Rivers, Mangrove Swamps

Diet: Fruits, Shoots, Aquatic Plants, Aquatic Invertebrates

Social Grouping: Solitary, generally only interact during breeding season

Reproduction: Both sexes have multiple mates, with males competin for access to females.  Believed to breed in water at night.  Females migrate up to 3 kilometers to nest beaches, sometimes nesting alongside sea turtles at low tide.  Nest 2-3 times per year, laying up to 25 eggs each time in a hole dug in the sand.  Eggs incubated 70-90 days.  Young are independent at 6-8 years

Lifespan: Estimated 40-80 Years

Conservation Status: IUCN Critically Endangered, CITES Appendix II

• Females reach lengths of over 60 centimeters (up to 80 centimeters), males usually only reach 30-40 centimeters.  Weight is up to 25 kilograms (usually 7 kilograms for males, 17 for females)
• Very sexually dimorphic.  In males, shell is green or brownish grey, with three black longitudinal lines  – may be continuous or broken slightly.  There may also be black markings along the rim of the shell.  The head is black or grey with a dull orange stripe running behind the eyes to the snout.  In females, the shell is drab brown – they also have the three black lines, but these many obscure with age.  The head is grey or brown, fading with age.  Limbs of both sexes are olive green or grey
• Both sexes experience seasonal color changes.  During the mating season, the male lightens in color until the head is stark white and the stripe becomes bright red, edged with black and the shell stripes become bolder.  During this time the female’s head becomes redder.  In captivity, some turtles have been observed changing color three or four times a year
• The snout is upturned like a snorkel, which makes it easy to feed on items floating on surface of the water.  The beak is somewhat serrated, giving it the alternate name of saw-jawed turtle
• Have been observed feeding on fruit dropped from trees by leaf monkeys, following them.  Likewise, they will readily swim up to people who they associate with food
• Lack salt-excreting glands, can only remain in sea water for a brief period of time.  Hatchlings must migrate through saltwater after hatching for two weeks, but need to eventually settle in water that is at least 50% fresh
• Have declined dramatically throughout range, with only 1-2 rivers home to more than 100 individuals.  Major threat is hunting for meat and eggs. Their predictable nesting behavior makes them vulnerable to hunters, who can steal an entire nest of eggs in one raid.  One egg is worth five times as much as a chicken egg on local markets.    Traditional belief (becoming trendy lately) that consuming turtle blood will improve athletic performance

Sympathy for the Devil

 

Satire: International Zookeeper Day

"10-4", in radio call, is the signal for "Yes" or "Understood."  It's also the date of International Zookeeper Day (which, puzzlingly enough for me, is months away from National Zookeeper Week.  Go figure.)  

It's been a rough year for zookeepers (and, I mean, anyone else), and with layoffs and cost-cutting, there are certainly fewer of us now, active and at work, than there were at the beginning.  Everyone could use a laugh around now.  Here, with a little bit of humor, is the Facebook page "Tao of Zookeeping" with its take on this highest of holidays.

"On International Zookeepers Day Eve, zookeepers all over the world put their work boots outside the break room. After everyone goes home, Mother Zookeeper puts presents in the boots of good keepers: zip ties, duct tape, maybe a new multi-tool, and donuts (don’t eat the boot donuts). For bad keepers, she brings broken rakes, unruly guests, and lower back pain.

Mother Zookeeper was originally a real person, a volunteer at one of the largest zoos in history, the great zoo at Tenochtitlan, the Aztec capital. During the great feast of Panquetzaliztli, in late December, the zoo was free to all guests, and Mother Zookeeper would bring the keepers spicy chocolate drinks to keep their spirits up. Soon the real Mother Zookeeper passed away, but it became tradition to give the zookeepers chocolate drinks at Panquetzaliztli.

After the fall of the Aztec empire to the Spanish, the tradition crossed the Atlantic to the colonial powers that had conquered the new world. The Catholic Church, upset that such a celebration would occur so close to Christmas, moved the festival to another day sacred to zookeepers, 10-4. In each different country, the keepers adapted the Mother Zookeeper celebration to their local area. Gone were chocolate drinks, replaced by haggis, escargot, and lutefisk

.

By the end of the 19th century, as zoos began to open in the Americas and Australia, the custom moved again, again taking a decidedly local flavor (Vegemite, anyone?). With the advent of the internet, zookeepers the world over could learn about Mother Zookeeper and celebrate the same day, October 4th, with a more universal set of treats.

So next October 3rd, be sure to set out your boots in front of the break room. If you’ve been good, a little old lady driving a flying golf cart will stop by and give you special treats. And if you happen to be at the zoo late that night, maybe, just maybe, you’ll hear the jingle of keys in the sky, and you’ll know Mother Zookeeper is making her rounds."

Polly Says "^#^$&@"

 Zoo Removes Parrots from Display After Birds Keep Cursing at Visitors

There's an anecdote that I recall from the 1930's - the midst of the Great Depression.   A Congressman was paying a visit to the National Zoo in DC, when he happened to pass by a myna bird.  As he did, the bird called out to him, "How about an appropriation?"  "That's impertinent!" the Congressman exclaimed.  "So's your old man," the bird is said to have replied.

Never underestimate the trouble that a talking bird can get into.  Although, to be honest, the zoo did get that appropriation.  

The Comfort Zone

The reptile house was what you would have expected from what was, essentially, a roadside zoo run on a shoestring budget.  It was a clap-board structure that mostly housed former pets, with a pair of massive Burmese pythons as the star attractions.  There were two or three more exciting finds among the tanks, and among these was a pair of Carolina pygmy rattlesnakes.  They were the first venomous snakes that I ever worked with.  I was enchanted by them.

Never knowing whether or not I would get more experience with hot snakes in the future, I treasured these guys.  I won't say I played with them, because I didn't, but it would perhaps be fair to say that I probably found more reasons to move them and interact with them then were strictly needed from a husbandry perspective.  I weighed them regularly, ladling them with snake hooks (no easy task for short, fat-bodied little snakes that don't balance well on a hook) into trashcans.  I rearranged their enclosure often, saying that it was for their enrichment, when more likely it was for mine.  Poop never even got a chance to stink - as soon as they defecated, I was there ready with a slotted spoon taped to a broken-off piece of broomstick, ready to scoop it up.

I wanted to get as much practice with these small and (relatively) benign snakes as I could, before I graduated further in my career to, say, a black mamba or a king cobra.

One fall, I took the ultimate zookeeper luxury, a week off.  When I returned, the rattlesnakes were the first inspection I made of my section.  There were feces and urates in the substrate.  The water bowl, to my incredulity, was bone dry, with a fine layer of dust at the bottom.  No other animal that I cared for - bird, reptile, or mammal - had been similarly ignored.

I was pretty mad.  I hadn't expected anyone to weigh them or handle them while I was gone, and they'd been fed well before I left.  The poop, I could sort of understand.  The water made me made.  It was so... unnecessary.  It was possible to at the very least dump in fresh water with just opening the lid, with no risk of hands getting anywhere near bitey little snakes.  Nope.  The keeper who had been covering for me while I was gone was clear in her feelings when I asked her what was going on.  She had refused to even open the door to the enclosure while I was away.

Every keeper has comfort zones.  There are things that I certainly do not like doing, either for safety concerns or personal preferences.  There are things that I acknowledge that others are better at doing than me, and vice versa - I've had to take over jobs from other keepers before because it was something where I felt comfortable doing it and they didn't.  

At the same time, keeping is a job, and people who are paid the same wages should be expected to have similar workloads and take similar risks.  That doesn't mean putting yourself in danger needlessly.  If a keeper feels that they can't do their job in a safe manner, for themselves and for the animals, then they should ask management to help improve the situation, or request additional training, or do something.  Failing to take care of the animals is never the acceptable option.  After coming back from that week off, I made it my goal that every keeper - like it or not - was going to learn how to service the rattlesnake... even if it was only enough to top off a water bowl.