Animal ASMR

As a profession, zookeeping is very sensory... especially olfactory (but that's ok, because I like a lot of the smells!).  I'm a lot more ambivalent about the auditory side of the job.  Usually when I think of the sounds, it's the bad ones, by which I mean the loud ones and especially the piercing ones.  If the CIA ever finds themselves in a situation where they have a terrorism suspect that they need to reveal the location of a bomb before it goes off, I recommended strapping him down in a chair in a room full of very excitable, hand-raised former pet cockatoos.  Give him fifteen minutes, then I'm sure he'll talk.  

You may have to give him your questions in writing because his ear drums exploded, but he'll talk.

There are other sounds that make me much happier, either because they are just generally pleasant sounds (like the content chittering of small monkeys, or the singing of songbirds), or because you associate them with happy animals being happy to see you.  When I was a cat keeper, I remembered my overwhelming delight the first time that a tiger trotted over to chuff at me, before turning her back against the mesh for me to scratch.  Same with the bleating of goats and sheep in a petting barn, excited that you've finally come to feed them, or the happy pant-hoots of chimpanzees, which really is about the only sound a chimpanzee can make that doesn't make me want to run for the hills.

Other sounds are pleasant because they aren't what you were expecting.  Cheetahs, for instance, make a surprisingly bird-like chirp that always brightens my days.  Alligators are surprisingly vocal, from the squeaks that the babies make before they even hatch from their shells to the deep, rumbling bellows of the adult males, which literally make the water around their bodies spray up in miniature fountains.  Then, some small lizards can scream or chirp, but I'm still not sure how I feel about that.  

If there is a sound that I love most of all at the zoo, it's probably the soundtrack of being in one of the hoofed animal holding barns at the end of the day.  Might be zebra, or antelope, or giraffe, it doesn't matter.  The sound of a large animal busying itself with hay, burying its face as it feeds, its hooves gently stirring up the shavings on the ground, its tail whisking back and forth, idly swatting at stray flies, is all extremely relaxing to me.  It conveys the impressions of content, comfortable animals and the feeling of a day's work done, meaning that I can go home knowing that everything is done and all the animals are well.  I could go to sleep to that sound.  

On long, hot days, filling out my daily report at the desk in the barn, knowing that the timeclock and my car are still a far walk away, I almost have.

From the News: Florida Man Hospitalized After Jumping Into Jaguar Exhibit at Zoo

Florida Man Hospitalized After Jumping Into Jaguar Exhibit at Zoo

I'm really going to have to stop featuring idiots like this in "From the News"... because it seems like this is happening so often that it's hardly newsworthy.  Anyway, the headline is sensationalist and a bit inaccurate - they guy wasn't actually in the exhibit with the jaguar.  If he was, he most likely wouldn't have gotten out.  Instead, this is fairly similar to the incident from Wildlife World Zoo in Arizona a few years back - dummy crosses barrier, reaches through fence, predictable result.  As Deputy Zoo Director Dan Maloney told the press with considerable understatement, "This is an individual that wasn't using his head..."

The Jacksonville Zoo is regarded as having perhaps the best jaguar habitat in the US; it's certainly long been one of my favorites.  I don't consider it to be in anyway unsafe, assuming that visitors are actually following the rules.  I hope that the zoo doesn't respond to this by putting up additional barricades that will limit visitor access to seeing the animals.  Most of us know how to behave, after all.

Here We Glow Again...

With its hefty size, mild venom, and docile manner, the emperor scorpion is one of the go-to invertebrates for  zoos looking for educational ambassador animals or exhibits.  Besides their imposing claws and scary-looking stinger, however, scorpions have another trick that makes them uniquely exciting from an exhibit perspective.

They glow in the dark.

A bark scorpion under a blacklight at the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix, Arizona

Well, not all on their own they don't.  When illuminated by a blacklight, however, scorpions flow an eerie bluish-green color.  I've never gotten a clear explanation for why they do this, which is even assuming that there is a "why" instead of it being a quirk of evolution.  Do other animals seem them in this light?  Does it help them find each other in the dark?  Does it confuse or attract their prey?  The scorpions themselves don't register that they are under light, so won't scurry to avoid it.  It certainly poses a problem for scorpions living in the age of people - anyone armed with a blacklight can easily find any scorpion in their path on a dark night, living the creepy-crawlies vulnerable to being captured or killed.

But, no matter what the purpose behind it (assuming there is one). it does make for a really cool exhibit in a zoo or museum setting.  If your facility is within the natural range of scorpions, as much of the American southwest is, it can also be a fun activity to take folks on a night hike armed with blacklights to see if you can spot any.

One note of consideration, however - as far as blacklights go, a little is fine, a lot is bad.  There is a reason that zoos don't keep their scorpions under perpetual blacklighting so that they are always glowing.  The UV exposure from the blacklights can cause the scorpion to eventually suffer from blindness (yes, they do have eyes - they just aren't that great to begin with), dehydration, anorexia, and even shedding problems as their exoskeleton melts to their bodies.   Again, this is in response to excessive lighting - passing a blacklight over one now and then won't cause any harm

Species Fact Profile: Emperor Scorpion (Pandinus imperator)

                                                             Emperor Scorpion

Pandinus imperator (Koch, 1842)

Range: West Africa

Habitat: Tropical Forest, Savannah

Diet: Insects (especially termites), other terrestrial invertebrates.  Occasionally small lizards and rodents.  Cannibalism has been observed

Social Grouping: Loose colonies of up to 15 

Reproduction:  Breeding occurs year round.  Males grasp females by the pincers and mock sting them before depositing sperm (sometimes the male is eaten by the female following breeding).  Gestation 9 months.  Female gives live birth to 10-12 young (resembling tiny versions of their parents), which are carried on her back.  Sexually mature at 4 years old.

Lifespan: 8 Years

      Conservation Status: CITES Appendix II

•      One of the largest scorpion species in the world, measuring an average of 20 centimeters long and weighing 30 grams
•       Body is shiny black, with an underlying white membrane that is sometimes visible in gravid females when their bodies are stretched out by pregnancy
•       Armed with two large pincers (called pedipalps) in front of four pairs of legs and a tail that terminates with a stinger.  Behind the last pair of legs is a sensory structure used for sensing features of the terrain, called pectines.  Sensory hairs over the body detect vibrations in the air on on the ground
•       Primarily nocturnal.  Often found buried in the leaf litter, in loose soil, or in termite mounds, which are favored hunting grounds
•      Juveniles primarily rely on the venom of their sting to capture prey.  Adults rely more on their powerful claws, which can rip prey apart
•      Popular in the pet trade due to large size and fearsome appearance coupled with a mild venom and generally placid demeanor (can be handled readily)

From the News: Maryland Zoo Says It's Now Free of Single-Use Plastics

Maryland Zoo Says It's Now Free of Single-Use Plastics

Every summer, many zoos and aquariums (as well as other organizations)across the country participate in "Plastic Free July," an effort to reduce the number of single-use plastics that are one of the major sources of pollution.  For the past several years, the reigning champion has been the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore.  Whether they can pull it off again this year is uncertain, as competition is stiff (as we'd hope it would be).  No matter who wins the competition, though, Maryland Zoo has still made its mark by making an impressive commitment - no more single use plastics.

At least not what it control.  If you order supplies, they tend to come in plastic that you might not anticipate.  Still, the food services are going plastic free - paper condiment cups, a transition to washable plates and bowls, wooden spoons for ice cream.  Plastic water bottles are also phased out.  Vending machines now sell aluminum bottles of water (aluminum being much more recyclable than plastic), and water bottle refilling stations are set up around the zoo.

It's good to remind visitors that "conservation" isn't just something that happens in far away countries full of exotic animals.  It's what we do in our daily lives that makes a difference to wild animals and wild places - especially the "wild places" that don't seem so wild - our own backyards. 

Are You Appreciated?

I'm eating ice cream as I write this, which is certainly not the least pleasant way to spend a Friday afternoon in late July.   Across the country, friends and colleagues are being greeted with pizza lunches, candy bars, games and tournaments, and the occasional opportunity to shove a pie in the face of a supervisor or vet, all while enjoying a steady stream of facebook posts telling us how great we all are.  It's National Zookeeper Week, and it has been quite a year.

Even at the roughest, crappiest, cheapest roadside zoo that I worked at, the owner still felt the need to acknowledge NWKW, if only by dropping a box of donuts of questionable freshness on the breakroom table.  That actually summed up the work environment best of all for that establishment.  "Happy Zookeeper Week.  Now eat your damn donut on your way out the door, because if I catch you in this breakroom by the time I turn around, it probably means that you don't have enough work to do."

Zookeeping is a profession that manages to capture idealists and cynics, often in the form of the same person, and I know a lot of keepers who get a little jaded this time every year.  Ice cream and pizza is nice, they say, but we could buy our own if we were paid better.  Also, we've been short-staffed for all but three weeks of the last seven years.  And how about that toxic work environment?

This got me thinking - what does it mean to actually be appreciated at work?

• Paid a reasonable wage.  No, no one goes into this field for the money.  Most zoos and aquariums are nonprofits and there are limited financial resources even in the best of times, and these certainly are not "the best of times."  I do see a lot of keepers who seem to be under the impression that their low wages are solely the result of sadistic or uncaring management, which is seldom the truth (ok, except for at the aforementioned donut place.  That guy sucked).  Still, zoos should make sure that they are paying a salary that, at the very least, lets their staff get by preferably without a second job.  Not only is it best for the keepers, but it's better for the zoo and the animals to have staff who aren't stretched to their limit.  I once watched, with horrified amazement, as a drooling coworker slept in the back of our reptile house, exhausted from a long night at his second job.  In front of him was an open tank.  Inside was a venomous snake.

• Reasonable staffing.  I worked at one zoo that gave out comp time like it was monopoly money.  After a few years, I could probably have retired, I had so much.  Of course, the reason I got so much was that I had to keep coming in to pick up extra shifts, because we were short-staffed.  And because we were short-staffed, I was never actually able to take off and use any of that time.  There should be enough staff that are well-trained enough that keepers can take off as the need to, for medical reasons, for family emergencies, or for vacation.  Yes, there may be times when the world is falling apart and three or four people have emergencies and it gets really tight - but that should be the extreme, unusual exception, not the rule for every time someone needs a day.

• Free from bullying and harassment.  You'd think this would be obvious.  Unfortunately, the animal care fields tend to attract... well, animal people.  And we aren't always the best socialized.  It's especially dangerous sometimes because people decide that, if they are (at least in their head) acting in the best interests of the animals, they are allowed to be as mean to any other employee as they want.  Management should establish an environment where people are treated with respect and where inter-staff conflicts can be addressed before they blow up and get out of hand.

• Room to grow.  I've worked at a zoo where it seemed like it was written into the charter that every new manager had to be hired from without.    The lead of one team quit?  They wouldn't even dream of promoting from their internal staff, the keepers who in some cases had been on that team for years.  They looked far and wide outside the zoo.  Not surprisingly, as soon as keepers began to get more experience, they would leave to get promotions elsewhere.  It was their only chance at advancement.  Zoos should strive to build up their staff by offering training and mentoring.  Not every keeper is going to be able to get promoted - but everyone should have the chance to prove themselves, to grow professionally, and to at least have the opportunity for advancement in the workplace.

• Having a voice.  Keepers are the frontline staff of the zoo.  They deserve a voice in the decisions that are made and the direction that the zoo goes in.  Management should be willing to listen to them.  By "listen" I mean, "hear out and give fair consideration to," not "do whatever they say."  Management often have a more complete picture of the zoo's overall situation, such as budget and resources, and many curators and directors got where they are based on their experience, which may be more extensive than the keeper's.  They may hear the keeper out and still decide to go in a different direction.  But they owe it to everyone involved, themselves included, to give themselves a full understanding of the situation, and that includes the keeper perspective.

Zookeeping is a tough job - physically, mentally, emotionally, financially.   Even the best managers can't fix everything with a wave of a magic wand, but they can do what is in their power to give the staff the best work environment in which they can thrive.

And a little ice cream and pizza never hurt, either.

NZKW 2021

We now find ourselves halfway through 2021's National Zookeeper Week.  The last year has been an extremely challenging one for zookeepers and aquarists, with facility closures, staff cuts, crazy scheduling, and the persisting fear of our animals (or ourselves) getting COVID-19.  Hence this year's graphic, produced by the American Association of Zookeepers, below.

It's nice to get a little recognition, and maybe a few treats in the breakroom.  It's even nicer to be at a facility where you are valued, your passion for animals isn't exploited, and you're given the salary, benefits, and opportunities for growth that you need.

An Ocean on the Lake: Inside Chicago's Shedd Aquarium

I've loved zoos and aquariums my whole life - but sometimes I wish that they were better about getting their messages out there.  Too many people still think of them only as places of entertainment, or in terms of animals penned up.  Thankfully, many facilities are becoming much more proactive in sharing the stories of their animals and the people who take care of them, as seen in the many recent series that have come out detailing life behind-the-scenes at many zoos.

Chicago's Shedd Aquarium is the latest to join the trend.  The Shedd has joined with ABC7 Chicago to create a mini-web series called An Ocean on the Lake, with different themed episodes covering a wide variety of topics, from proper nutrition to caring for confiscated wildlife.

In many ways, the coronavirus pandemic forced zoos and aquariums to hone their storytelling abilities.  With our facilities closed, social media was really the only way that we could stay engaged with the public.  It seems to have worked - upon reopening, the public was ready and eager to come back and see us.  Now that the worst of the storm has (hopefully) passed, we need to continue to build on these gains and continue to spread the message of what we stand for - conservation, education, and excellence in animal care.

An Ocean on the Lake

Who's Your Daddy?

 Who's Your Daddy?

No, seriously... I need to know for record purposes.

Maintaining proper records of parentage is key to successful zoo breeding programs.  Though there is a long tradition of breeding fathers to daughters, brothers to sisters throughout the history of animal husbandry, doing so can have some bad results, as deleterious (bad) gene combinations are expressed.  Think of the royal households of 19th century Europe and all of the resultant medical issues, such as hemophilia.  Or, about white tigers and what a genetic dumpster fire they are.

Of course, to know how related animals are, you have to have an accurate idea of their parentage.  And that can be tricky with a lot of animals.  If you put a male tiger in with a female tiger and get tiger cubs (as one does), you can be pretty sure who mom and dad were - especially if dad is the only male tiger that mom spent any time with in the months preceding the birth.  But it's not always so easy...

For instance, in some social animals, there can be multiple males and multiple females in an enclosure together, all fertile.  Some species, such as many ungulates, have a dominant bull that you may assume is the father of all of the young (not that some subordinate males don't get some sneaky breeding in on the side - which is why many zoos maintain single breeding males per herd).  Other species, such as chimps, are quite promiscuous, and the mother might have mated with many potential fathers.  Even if you witnessed her breeding Male "A," that doesn't preclude her having also spent some quality time with Males "B" and "C."  A genetic test may be necessary... but has to be budgeted for.

Even if a species is monogamous, there are no guarantees.  A study of a colony of ibises at one zoo - consisting of several nominally mated pairs - showed that there was a surprising amount of adultery going on.  Females would sneak off to breed another male, then return to their nest to lay an egg and hatch a chick which the zookeepers assumed to have been sired by her mate.  Her mate assumed so, too.  This probably happens regularly in the wild as well, but no one is keeping a studbook in the wild.

What male was with the female at the suspected time of conception?  Hard to say - because that would imply a concrete answer for how long of a time period there is between mating and laying eggs or giving birth.  Some species can store sperm for lengthy periods of time.   Some mammals show delayed implantation, where the egg is fertilized, then stays in limbo for months before finally starting to develop.

And then there is parthenogenesis, or virgin birth... in which the answer to the question "Who's your daddy?" is... no one.

With other species, you may know dad, but not mom.  With rheas, ostrich-like birds from South America, all of the females dump their eggs in one nest for one male to incubate, while they go off foot-loose and fancy-free.  In that case, the father may be known - because he's usually the only male - but the mother may be one of several females.  Or you may just find an egg in an exhibit of multiple animals and that's all you know - it could be anyone's!

Sometimes you can use some detective work to track down the correct parents.  Sometimes you get lucky and observe the mating, or the egg-laying, or what have you.  Sometimes you can do genetic testing and find the parents that way.

And sometimes it's a mystery.

Species Fact Profile: Zebra Shark (Stegostoma fasciatum)

Zebra Shark

Stegostoma fasciatum (Hermann, 1783)

Range: Tropical Indo-Pacific Ocean (South Africa to Australia)

Habitat: Coral Reefs and Sandy-Bottom Ocean (down to 60 meters)

Diet: Mollusks (Gastropods and Bivalves), Crustaceans, Small Fish, Marin Worms

Social Grouping: Usually solitary, but sometimes in groups as large as 50, in rare cases congregations of several hundred, usually strong female bias

Reproduction:  Breed year-round.  Courtship consists of male following female, biting at her fins.  Copulations lasts 2-5 minutes.  Female releases eggs over several months, may be able to store sperm.  Incubation period about 6.5 months.  No parental care.  Juveniles are rarely seen, spend most time in deeper water.  Mature at 1.5-1.8 meters.  Parthenogensis has been documented

Lifespan: 25-30 Years

      Conservation Status: IUCN Endangered

• Adult body length 2.5-3.o meters, with maximum reported (but unconfirmed) size of 3.5 meters.  Males tend to be larger than females.  Body is cylindrical with later ridges.  Large, broad tail is about as long as the body.  Head is broad with large eyes, nostrils close to the front of the snout, small barbels
• Yellow/brown/gray background coloration is covered with dark stripes in juveniles, which turn into spots in adults.  The common name comes from the juvenile pattern, which has led to confusion by some parties, including the early belief that the juveniles and adults were separate species (juveniles also lack the body ridges seen in adults).
• Nocturnal, spending most of the day lying motionless on the seafloor (can pump water across the gills through the mouth, so can breathe while it is stationary).  At night, they actively feed by swimming in and out of crevices in the coral reef
• Predators include larger bony fish and sharks, as well as marine mammals
• Largely sedentary, genetic data shows little exchange of genes between neighboring populations
• Not of commercial importance to most fishermen, though sometimes fished for recreationally.  Most often taken incidentally as bycatch in nets, in which case the meat and fins are dried, sold.  Regularly seen in fish markets in South and Southeast Asia.  Strong site fidelity to particular reefs could make them vulnerable to future targeted fishing
• Considered relatively gentle and inoffensive, but have bitten divers who have harassed them, with a single reported case of a zebra shark attacking a human unprovoked (no injuries resulted)

Satire: Pray to Zoos

I saw this cartoon floating around on Facebook, but no mention of who the creator was.  If you are or know the name of the artist, please let me know so I can give credit to where it is due.  Thanks!

PS: Life is always better with capybaras.  And I'm sure they'd love the storm...

The Interchangeable Aquarium

When I was a kid, I'd set the modest goal for myself of seeing every zoo on earth (which also meant going to just about every country on earth... and seeing every animal in the wild on earth... and so on.  I was much more ambitious as a 12-year old).  With the realization that there are a lot more zoos than I knew about in those halcyon pre-internet days, coupled with the resignation to the fact that no one is going to pay me to be a professional fulltime zoogoer, I've had to accept that this isn't quite as realistic as I thought.  Even seeing all of the zoos in the US is pretty much an impossible task - so I have to prioritize.

Given the preference, I like to prioritize zoos and aquariums that are accredited by the AZA, though I'm not deadlocked into that rule - there are some excellent private zoos in this country, and some of them feature animals that you'll never see in AZA these days.  After my most recent visit to a SEA LIFE, however, I've started to wonder if I can skip those (or at least not go out of my way for them), with the understanding that, if you've seen one, you've probably seen them all.  That got me thinking, though - my main beef (fish?) with SEA LIFE is that they are nearly identical - but the same argument could be made about a lot of the larger aquariums, too.

Some aquariums are truly unique and having something spectacular to recommend them - Georgia Aquarium with its Ocean Voyager, home to whale sharks and giant manta rays, comes to mind.  A lot of them, though, are starting to strike me as kind of... sameish.  They feature the same species, usually exhibited in very similar exhibits (acrylic tunnels are becoming increasingly popular, and though they may not be present in some of the older aquariums, many of the newer ones are full of them).  There will be a touch tank, an Amazon rainforest (anaconda, piranha, electric eel, arapaima), a gallery of stand-alone species, such as giant Pacific octopus and moon jellies, and then a large oceanic tank, dominated by sea turtles and sharks (usually some combination of sand tiger, sandbar, nurse, or blacktip reef).  Some will have penguins, or puffins, or both, or a seal pool, or a crocodilian of some sort. Increasingly few have cetaceans. 

Usually, my favorite part of an aquarium is the small section devoted to native species - because this is where I've got the best chance of seeing something new and unusual.

Oceans cover three-quarters of the planet, and that says nothing of the rivers, lakes, and wetlands.  There is so much life in water - so why don't aquariums do a better job highlight that diversity?  A big part is probably that we have millennia of experience keeping land animals (including birds) in zoos, whereas our experience with aquatic life is much more limited.  Aquariums are likely to stick with species that they know a) will do well and respond to their care, and b) the public will enjoy.

Most people don't visit too many aquariums over the course of their lives, so who cares if they're all vaguely the same?  If it ain't broke, the reasoning goes, why fix it?

That's probably true, and experimentation with new animals in a zoo or aquarium setting involves trial, error, and usually a few necropsies.  With today's growing standards of animal welfare, including for fish and invertebrates, taxa that used to be considered disposable in less-enlightened ages, there is an understanding unwillingness to experiment.  

I'm not saying that we should be yanking giant squid out of the sea and sticking them in tanks just for a lark, just to see if we can do it - if we do, I've got a feeling that pretty soon we'll all be trying to scarf up as much calamari as we can before it goes bad.  I just wish that there was some more differentiation between aquariums, some more thought about trying to create unique experiences, not only for what species are displayed, but for how they are displayed.  So many tunnel exhibits, and so many octopi in boring boxes - has anyone tried an octopus exhibit with a tunnel through it?   The Amazon has been done to death - why not try a West African river forest?  I'm a zoo person primarily, so I don't know aquariums as well as I'd like, and as such I don't know what's as likely to unlikely to succeed or fail.  I just wish that there was something different to keep me coming back to different aquariums... because right now, a lot of them remind me of giant SEA LIFEs.  

Zoo Review: SEA LIFE Kansas City

As with the other members of the SEA LIFE chain, SEA LIFE Kansas City can be found in a mall (in this case the Crown Center of downtown Kansas City) in association with a Legoland.  The aquariums tend to be fairly formulaic (the exhibits all tend to be the same, with the exception of a few local touches, though the order differs from location to location), and the Kansas City facility is no exception.  After entering, visitors pass through a shoaling ring, where the stand in the center as schooling fish swirl around them.  After that, a series of exhibits takes them into progressively deep and deeper water, further from shore.

It starts out with a small gallery of freshwater fish, then moves on to an rockpool touch tank, full of coastal marine invertebrates.  Next come the Harbor and Shipwreck, before finally coming to what is the highlight of every SEA LIFE, the Ocean Tunnel.  Here, visitors walk through an acrylic tunnel while small sharks and rays cruise overhead.  A few more modest tank displays - jellyfish, sea horses, the inevitable giant Pacific octopus - and voila, exit through the gift shop.

Okay, I acknowledge, compared even to my reviews of the Michigan and Arizona facilities, this one really feels like I'm phoning it in.  And I am.  It wasn't until I walked out the door (and couldn't get back in) that I realized that I didn't have any pictures.  I guess I just felt that I didn't need them.  I felt like I'd been there before - even before I stepped inside.

SEA LIFE aquariums are great for families looking for a small outing with the kids, something manageable and not too crowded, and these folks are presumably not making a hobby of checking off the public aquariums of the country.  To them it won't matter that the branches are all just about the same (though the weedy sea dragon display here was a nice touch that not all of the others share) - because they aren't going to go to any other others.  SEA LIFE thrives by filling the niche of offering a small aquarium experience in cities that, for one reason or another, lack a public aquarium, leaving the niche unexploited.  They have the basic animals that most visitors want to see - octopus, jellyfish, sea horse, sea turtles, sharks, and a touch tank - and if they lack penguins or marine mammals, well, that just makes it easier for them to fit into a shopping mall, where they can be readily accessed.

Unfortunately, SEA LIFE might run into trouble down the road, a victim of its own success.  Unlike zoos, new aquariums are popping up with great frequency around the country - including in cities that were once the exclusive domain of SEA LIFE.   The Arizona facility is now a short-drive away from OdySea.  Detroit is looking to open a new aquarium.  The Kansas City Zoo is currently constructing a major aquarium, which will dwarf the Crown Center attraction.  Will SEA LIFE still be able to prosper in an increasingly crowded field?  Or do its aquariums just serve as placeholders, piquing the community's interest until something bigger and more spectacular comes in?  Time will tell...

SEA LIFE Kansas City

Fish - Friends or Food?

Zoos and aquariums are found all over the world, and, as you might expect with any institution with such a global span, there tend to be some major cultural differences depending on where you go.  Especially interesting to me have been the differences between zoos in the United States and western Europe.  You'd think the cultures of the zoos there would be pretty similar (western, liberal democracies with long, shared history), but there are major differences.  One subject of difference arose during the Marius the Giraffe debacle, over contraception and culling.  Another is the feeding of fish.

In the US, the feeding of live fish to carnivores is a fairly common form of enrichment.  You see it with otters, bears, big cats, and a host of other species - some carnivore exhibits are built specifically to accommodate feeder fish, keeping them alive and well on exhibit until the predator gets around to eating them.  In the UK, however, feeding live vertebrates, including fish, is illegal is most cases.  There's a bit of a grey area, and I've told that there's some openness to how the law should exactly be interpreted (animal welfare laws in most countries, US included, can be maddeningly vague), but that's generally how it is interpreted by UK keepers - and accepted by them.  Whenever I see US keepers post videos of a fishing cat, or otter, or bear taking live fish, the response I usually see from the UK keepers is an accusation of barbarism, as if we're just one step away from the Roman Empire and engaging in animal combat.

I wonder what the opinion is about shark and crocodile exhibits, which often include small fish.  The idea is that they are supposed to live there, not get eaten there, but it does happen sometimes... but it's not a deliberate feeding.  Does that matter to the Brits?  It probably doesn't matter to the fish, if the end result is the same.

A Flamingo House Call

Zoos and aquariums can provide a special opportunity for people to make once-in-a-lifetime connections with animals from around the world.  Sometimes, though, a person can't come to the zoo for various reasons.  Such was the case of a very ill Austin woman who, it just so happened, had a passion for flamingos.

Thankfully, the San Antonio Zoo was able to make a surprise house call and do what they could to offer her a joyous memory. 

Book Review: Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food

"The passion to save bluefin [tuna] is as strong the one to kill them, and these dual passions are often contained within the body of a single fisherman."

I certainly go to a lot of aquariums, more than most people, I'm sure, but I still have to admit, I'm fairly ignorant about fish.  I can recognize the species most commonly kept in zoos and aquariums, and maybe tell you a little about those, but that's about it.  Other than that, whether it's the ecological sense or the culinary one, I don't give them too much thought.  Like most people, to me, fish tend to be... well, fish.

In truth, "fish" is a term that covers an enormous number of species, many of which have played an outsized role in our history, culture, and nutrition.  Nature writer Paul Greenberg explores the importance of fish in our lives in Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food.  The four fish in question are the salmon, sea bass, cod, and tuna, which in turn represent humanity's constant quest for new food fishes, from the rivers that are seasonally invaded by spawning salmon to the deep ocean haunts of giant tuna.  With each fish, he takes us through a familiar saga: first, seeming abundance, then increasingly sophisticated exploitation, then a sudden realization of rarity, and finally a scramble to save (or at least salvage) whatever is left.

From an ecological or economic perspective alone, Greenberg's book is interesting in how it presents issues of sustainability and resource management.  A zoo or aquarium professional, however, will likely be the most intrigued by the frequent discussion of aquaculture.  Each of the four fishes that the author introduces us to is the subject of some efforts to rear and raise it in captivity, from the heavily industrialized farming of salmon along cold coastlines from Norway to Chile to the nascent (and apparently not especially successful) efforts to raise tuna, voracious, slow-growing oceanic predators.  Most of Greenberg's interest lays in the question of what options are best for the environment and most sustainable in the long run - how many pounds of feed to produce how many pounds of edible fish.  I find it most interesting to hear about the challenges being overcome to keep, breed, and raise the fish.  After all, public aquariums are continually striving to boost the sustainability of their fish collections, and what is aquaculture other than aquarium keeping on an industrial scale?

Greenberg doesn't just limit himself to the four namesake fishes of this book, though they do serve as a helpful framework for understand our interactions with fish.  He introduces us to a host of other species, including some which, it stands to reason, might be better candidates for domestication and consumption that many of those that we are accustomed to, tilapia and barramundi among them.   Sustainability isn't just a concern for the human kitchen, after all - it also has implications for zoos.  Many of our animals, such as penguins, otters, and crocodilians, are eaters of fish, and species selection serves as another front on which we could strive towards better environmental sustainability.   I was happy to see that Greenberg did, on several occasions, mention the Seafood Watch program of the Monterey Bay Aquarium.

I don't cook fish too often myself (the results of a horrifyingly bad experience with some herring in the early days of my career, when I was looking for the cheapest eats possible).  I do sometimes order it when I go out to restaurants, though.  When I went to the grocery store last, I found myself browsing the seafood section, not so much to buy anything, but to see how what I saw there matched up with Greenberg's book - the species selection, the dichotomy of wild-caught and farm-raised.  Fish, as the subtitle reminds us, are some of the last food items that we eat that are removed from the wild on a large scale.  If we want there to be fish for us to eat in the future, we need to start paying attention to what's on our plate - and to how it gets there.

Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food at Amazon.com

Please Don't Lick the Newts

The startlingly bright stomach of the fire-bellied newt is a very eye-catching feature.  It's supposed to be.  It functions that same as the colors of the poison dart frogs, the mantellas, and a host of other amphibians.  It's a message the screams "I'm toxic, leave me alone!"  (Side note: this career would be so much easier if some of my past and present coworkers carried similar warnings.  I digress).

The thing is, though, that unlike the fire-bellied toads, poison dart frogs, etc in the wild, our zoo amphibians are bluffing.  They may not know it - but they're just about harmless.  Amphibians aren't really born poisonous - they accumulate their toxins from the invertebrates that they eat.  In the case of poison dart frogs, for instance, it comes from ants.  Feed an amphibian a zoo-based diet of crickets, or fruit flies, or blackworms, or what have you, it has no toxins - or at least its toxins are greatly reduced.

None of which is meant to encourage you to pick up every captive-bred amphibian and hug it and kiss it and what have you.  For one thing, there still may be some toxic material in the skin - just not as potent as it might be in a wild individual.  Secondly, and (from the newt's perspective) more importantly, amphibians have moist, delicate skin, which they breathe through and absorb chemicals through.  Handling can be dangerous for them, whether its through the tearing of their fragile skin or soaking up the oils in your hands.  

Wild born or zoo bred, it's always best to give amphibians a little bit of space when admiring them - for their benefit as well as for yours.

 

Species Fact Profile: Chinese Fire-Bellied Newt (Cynops orientalis)

                                                      Chinese Fire-Bellied Newt

Cynops orientalis (David, 1873)

Range: Southern China (Jiangsu, Zhejiang, Jiangxi, Anhui, Hubei)

Habitat: Freshwater Wetlands, Subtropical and Tropical Lowland Forest

Diet: Small aquatic invertebrates, amphibian larvae and eggs

Social Grouping: Loose groups

Reproduction:  Breed in late spring and early summer, dependent on water temperature.  Female lays up to 4 eggs on aquatic plants beneath the surface of the water, sometimes folding the leaf to conceal the egg.  Multiple clutches may be laid per breeding season.  Eggs hatch after 13-24 days

Lifespan: 12 Years

      Conservation Status: IUCN Least Concern

•       5-10 centimeters long.  Males are smaller and thinner than females with a shorter tail, higher caudal fin.  Head is large and rounded
•       Dorsal surface is very dark, sometimes almost black.  Ventral surface is bright red or orange, interlaced with black.  Stomach and tail are presented as a warning to predators
•       Excrete a mild toxin from their skin as a defense against predators.  Generally not a significant threat to humans, but could be dangerous in large quantities.  The skin secretions are used to treat itching or burning in traditional medicine.  Zoo and aquarium specimens seem to lose their toxicity
•       In local folklore, believed to have the power to bring the rains
•       Taxonomy of newts of the genus Cynops is somewhat muddled - not sure how many species there are, whether the Chinese and Japanese newts should be in separate genus, etc.  Some possibility that the newts seen in US and European zoos are actually hybrids
•       Locally abundant in the wild, but potential for decline due to use of herbicides and pesticides in agriculture.  Some collection for the pet trade
•       Specimens have been found in southern and central Florida, possibly in numbers that could indicate they have become established and are breeding.  Commonly kept as a pet or laboratory animal

From the News: Milky Storks at San Diego Zoo Safari Park

There are only 24 of these storks in North America.  The San Diego Zoo and Safari Park have all of them.

In an effort to secure the future of one of the world's most endangered stork species, the San Diego Zoo Safari Park has gathered every individual of the species in American zoos to form one breeding colony. Storks tend to be colonial breeders, so hopefully having them all under one roof will enable better options for mate selection and stimulating breeding behavior.  True, 24 birds may not seem like much of a start for saving a species that's inching closer to extinction - but they did it with fewer in the case of the California condor.  

On the Road Again

I was just trying to eat my lunch.

It had been a six hour drive to the meeting place, where I had handed off an animal to the keepers from another zoo.  From there, they would be driving six hours back to their own zoo and helping the new arrival settle in.  With the exception of a single gas stop, I'd driven nonstop for all six hours.  I'd kept the AC cranked up to a degree that I'd found uncomfortable to help keep the crated animal in the back comfortable, and had turned the radio on down low to provide some white noise, but I could barely hear it.

Now, as I turned the van around, I was on the road again.  Time for a bathroom break, to roll the window down, and to crank up the tunes.  Most importantly though, I wanted lunch.

This being in the earlier days of COVID, I was leery about going into a restaurant and eating there, even if the restaurant was allowing inside dining.  Instead, I got some carry out, drove until I found a nice looking park, and pulled into the shade.  Then, I reclined back in my seat and began to stuff myself.  

Three seconds later, I turned and glanced out the window.  The noses of two children were smooshed against the driver-side window.  Another two were on the passenger side.  A fifth was nosing around the back windshield.  As far as I could tell, none of them actually saw me through the tinted windows.  Fair enough.  I wasn't what they were looking for.

I sighed.  It's hard to be inconspicuous when you're driving a lime-green billboard.

Neither of these (Sacramento Zoo above, Northeast Wisconsin Zoo below) were my Zoomobile, but they do give you a pretty good idea of what the typical one looks like.

As I had on many animal transports before, I was driving a Zoomobile - the educational vehicles that zoo educators use for taking animals to schools and other public events.  And, like most Zoomobiles, this one was far from inconspicuous.  It was blindingly bright in color, an electric green (others I've driven have been bright yellow, or blue, or road-cone orange).  The color was kind of a moot point, though, because you could barely see it beneath the giant animal imagery plastered all over it from bumper to bumper.  In case anyone missed the point, the word "ZOO" was helpfully scrawled across it in several locations.

Whenever I stopped for gas on a trip, or pulled over for food, I was usually swarmed with people who wanted to see what kind of animal I had inside.  Often, the answer was "none" - when I'm transporting animals, I try not to stop on the leg of the trip when I have them in the car, trying to break only when I'm by myself, if possible.  They never seem to believe me.  It's like they're convinced that, if they only ask five or six more times, I'll relent and let them play with the pink pygmy panda or whatever it is they are convinced is in the trunk.  When driving down the highway, I've had cars speed up to ride alongside me, swerving disconcertingly close as they try to divine the mystery of what it is I'm doing.  The answer is usually... just driving.  And trying not to crash.

I often find myself wishing that the Zoomobile had a stealth mode, where you could flip a switch and it would just be a drab gray van that people would let pass unnoticed.  It would certainly take some of the pressure of driving.  Still, advertising pays, and the Zoomobile is designed to get attention.  It's very good at it.  Especially when you don't want any.