Species Fact Profile: Upside-Down Jellyish (Cassiopea xamachana)

                                                           Upside-Down Jellyfish

Cassiopea xamachana (Bigelow, 1892)

Range: Western Atlantic Ocean, Caribbean Sea, Gulf of Mexico

Habitat: Muddy Seabeds, Shallow Lagoons and Bays

Diet: Zooplankton, Phytoplankton, Algae.  Supplemented by photosynthesis of symbiotic organisms.

Social Grouping: Large Aggregations

Reproduction:  Reproduction is asexual and sexual.  Female's eggs are fertilized by sperm released into the water by males, brooded internally.  Larva are free-swimming until they anchor at a permanent spot, become medusas.  Reproduction driven in part by water temperature

Lifespan: Unknown

      Conservation Status: Not Evaluated

• Diameter of 25 centimeters.  As the name suggests, it is "upside down" compared to other jellyfish, with the saucer-shaped bell at the bottom, anchoring the jelly to the seabed, with the tentacles drifting upwards
• Symbiotic single-celled organisms in the tissues are photosynthetic, give the jellyfish a variable blue-gray-green color
• If disturbed, the jellyfish may rouse itself from the seabed and drift for a while, re-anchoring itself in a different location
• Surrounded by a layer of mucous that contains stinging cells, which not only stun or kill their prey, but also provide a deterrent to predators
• Sometimes uprooted by crabs, which will place the jellyfish on their shell as a form of protection from predators
• Have been introduced outside of their range into the Pacific Ocean and Mediterranean Sea
• Primary predators are sea turtles.

Satire: Commode-O-Dragon

 

Feel the Warmth of a Cold Nose...

The perfect commercial doesn't exi- 

Ok, this Holiday season I've really told myself that I'm going to do my best to stay away from Amazon and try to support smaller, more local businesses.  Counterpoint - small local businesses don't have the budgets to make commercials like this.  My first thought was that it was a trailer for a movie, one that I was definitely going to have to see two or three times.

A Tale of Two Turkeys

Happy Thanksgiving!

Today is a great day to express appreciation for many things, turkey being pretty high up on the list.  Besides being delicious, the turkey is special in that it is one of the only domestic animals to come out of the New World.  While Europe, Asia, and Africa gave us the domestic cat, cow, pig, sheep, goat, duck, swan, and chicken (to say nothing of the much less-utilized camels, reindeer, water buffalo, and yak), the Americas gave us the turkey, the llama, the alpaca, the guinea pig, and the Muscovy duck.  Of those, only the turkey was present in North America.  Both hemispheres had domesticated dogs, though they were far more prevalent and diverse in the Old World than the New.

I suppose the first Thanksgiving could have been a very different one if Europeans came to America and found herds of domestic bison or peccary.  Alas, only the turkey was domesticated - and only in parts of its range.  When Cortez and his men visited the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan, long before the Pilgrims hit Plymouth Rock, Emperor Montezuma II was going through hundreds of turkeys a day to feed the big cats, raptors, and other predators of his private zoo.

What a lot of folks don't realize is that there are two turkeys native to the New World.  The domestic turkey is descended for the wild turkey, which looks like a sleeker, cagier version of its Butterball cousin.  On the Yucatan, however, we find the ocellated turkey.

The ocellated turkey is considerably smaller than the wild turkey of North America.  That, along with its much smaller range, might have had something to do with it never being domesticated.  Personally, I wonder if the warts have something to do with it.  The face of both sexes is electric blue, covered with bright orange warts.  The first picture I ever saw of one was when I was a small child reading my Ranger Rick magazines, with a photo spread devoted to solving the question of which was the ugliest bird in the world.  The bird which I photographed above is, to be a fair, a lot less warty than the extreme example I saw in the magazine.

Other contestants included the shoebill and the California condor, but my vote went straight to the turkey.

Not that being ugly has spared the ocellated turkey from the dinner table - it's just eaten on a much smaller, much more local scale, hunted by local peoples.  No one is accusing the domestic turkey of being the most handsome of birds.  I wonder what it would do to its popularity if it, too, looked like a diseased, Day-Glo nightmare of a bird.

Book Review: The Zoologist's Guide to the Galaxy - What Animals on Earth Reveal about Aliens - and Ourselves

I remember many years ago, Animal Planet ran a TV special called "The Future Is Wild."  It purported to show how animals would evolve in the distant future, in a world long after humans have presumably driven ourselves (and many of our cohorts) to extinction.  There were seabirds that basically turned into walruses, squids that swung through the jungle canopy, and spiders that farmed mice for meat.  Even at the fairly young age I was, I remember being highly skeptical.  What are they basing this off of?  I wondered.

If it seems doubtful that we could predict what life in the future of our planet will look like, it would seem impossible that we could predict what life on other planets would be like.   But can we at least make educated guesses?  Cambridge University zoologist Arik Kershenbaum believes so.  In The Zoologist's Guide to the Galaxy: What Animals on Earth Reveal about Aliens - and Ourselves, Kershenbaum takes one small step into the hypothetical.  He postulates that, no matter how different other inhabited planets may be from earth, we will see some striking similarities.  That is because evolution through natural selection is likely to shape species in the same way no matter the planet.  As different as the landscapes may be, any alien animals that we encounter will have much in common with earthling analogs.

Astrobiology, the search for alien life, is mostly more focused on microbes than, say, Vulcans, Wookies, or any of the other fictional alien civilizations that we see in Sci-Fi.  Kershenbaum doesn't spend too much time speculating about alien cultures and technologies, but instead visualizes landscpaes more along the lines of earth ecosystems, with niches for producers, herbivores, predators, and scavengers.  He starts off at the most basic level of form and function - what would these different organisms need to be able to do to survive (find food, avoid being eaten, reproduce) and how would that impact their structures.  We would likely see forms of convergent evolution with earth species, on the grounds that there are only so many ways to do certain jobs and do them well.  Bats and starlings, for example, are not closely related, but both have fairly similar body plans, even though the skeletal structure of their wings are very different, because there are only so many ways that an organism can fly.

From there, Dr. Kreshenbaum looks at other aspects of animal existence to pose a variety of questions about hypothetical aliens.  How will they move?  What sorts of intelligence will they display?  Will they be social or solitary?  How will they communicate and process information?   All of these questions are illustrated with interesting examples from across the breadth of (Earth's) animal kingdom.  In some cases, he explores how things might have evolved very differently on other planets - aliens that might communicate through radio signals, or with an actual, complicated language of scents.  In others, he dismisses some Sci-Fi possibilities as being unlikely to be able to arise through natural selection.

He ends on a more philosophical note, inviting his readers to ponder what the nature of humanity is, and whether it could rightly be applied to alien species that we encounter.  At a time when some humans are pushing for recognition of some species on earth as "non-human persons," it is interesting to consider how we would relate to species from other planets.  He notes that if intelligent aliens from a distant planet - with cultures, technologies, civilizations, etc. - visited us, we would have more (biologically) in common with, say, cockroaches than we would our visitors - but which species would we be most likely to form a real connection with?

Normally I'm not too keen on taking speculation too seriously, but when it comes from such an informed source as Dr. Kershenbaum, it's hard not to be intrigued.  The author admits towards the end of the book that he considers it highly unlikely that we will encounter alien life in his lifetime - and we certainly shouldn't plan on seeing alien species in zoos any time soon.  Which isn't to say that such speculation is fruitless.  As his subtitle suggests, to understand alien life, we first have to devote ourselves to better understanding the life on our own planet.  That's always a worthwhile task, and one where there is still much work to be done.

The Zoologist's Guide to the Galaxy: What Animals on Earth Reveal about Aliens - and Ourselves at Amazon.com

My Life In Ruins

Years ago, my girlfriend and I took our first international vacation together.  We hemmed and hawed for a while about where to go, finally settling on the Central American nation of Belize.  There were two main attractions for me.  First, there was the chance to see Neotropical wildlife - though jungles are much harder habitats to spot animals in then savannahs, so most the animals I saw on that trip were in the Belize Zoo.  The second was to indulge another interest of mine - history - and explore the ancient Mayan ruins.

Probably the most dramatic moment of the trip for me was rounding a corner in the trail and opening up into a field that was dominated by towering stone temples and pyramids.  As we walked towards the main pyramid and prepared to ascend the steps to the top, I found myself glancing from side to side.  Against all logic, I half-expected to see a jaguar lounging on one of the nearby ledges.

Zoos and aquariums, I have been deeply frustrated to observe over the years, tend to have questionable commitment to the concept of creativity.  Someone will come up with an idea that is absolutely unique and stunning.  Within a few years, everyone has copied it.  One such exhibit motif that I've seen done over and over again is displaying jaguars on Mayan ruins, or tigers on Indian, Khmer, or other South/Southeast Asian ruins.  Looking back on, I have probably seen more jaguar exhibits with the ruin design than I have without.  Even some of the zoos that I've worked in have adopted the style - though admittedly, the execution was so half-butted that it wasn't readily apparent that they were supposed to be ruins.

I'm not sure who originated the concept.  The tiger exhibit at Zoo Miami (then called Miami MetroZoo) was an earlier practitioner, though I don't know if they were the first.  It probably arose in the 1980's, when zoos were moving towards more natural exhibits, the concept of immersion.  The challenge was that animals - especially tropical animals like jaguars - still needed support buildings, and obviously non-natural buildings tend to take away from the atmosphere that the zoo is going for.  But what if the buildings could be made part of the experience?  By putting up a façade, that drab service building suddenly becomes an outlier of Tikal, Chichen Itza, or Caracol - going from something that you're trying to obscure to becoming the perfect photographic background of your display.

At least, that's the thought.  Some of the buildings look stunning - as is often the case, the earlier works are the best, and Zoo Miami has one of the best-looking tiger exhibits I've ever seen.  Others look obviously phony, borderline tacky.  What irks me - besides the aforementioned lack of originality - is the lack of respect in some cases.  Sure, the Mayan city states are no more, and the culture largely collapsed, but its descendants still live in Belize, Mexico, and Guatemala.  If you're going to incorporate that culture into the exhibit, it should be done respectfully and accurately.  It should also be more than a backdrop.  Jaguars (and other Central American animals) played an enormous role in Mayan culture, in legends, artwork, and history.  These stories should be woven into the exhibit, whether through signage or other aspects.  Or, think outside the box a bit...

Recently, I was doing some research on the waldraap, or northern bald ibis.  This endangered bird is typically seen in African aviaries, and they do, in fact occur in North Africa.  Historically, however, they were more often associated with Europe and the Middle East.  One fact that I read that sparked my interest was that the species would nest on the battlements of ruined European castles, before being driven to near extinction on that continent.  I began to wonder if a zoo somewhere would build an exhibit of a ruined Austrian castle, its banners torn and fluttering in the wind, with waldraaps perching on the stone windowsills from which archers once (in this fantasy version) would have fired arrows.  

It would be something different, to be sure.  And for a change, it would be our culture in the zoo.

From the News: New Orleans Audubon Zoo welcomes a trafficked jaguar cub

 New Orleans Audubon Zoo welcomes a trafficked jaguar cub

They make up a relatively small number of zoo animals, but some of the most fascinating stories are the exotic animals that were rescued from the illegal wildlife trade.  Years from now, people will be hearing the story of this cub and how he came to be in the zoo.

Fish Out Of Water

The first time that I saw a mudskipper, I had no idea what to make of it.  I was pretty young, and my grade-school brain was not about to process the concept of a fish - a live one, anyway - outside of the water.  I assumed that it was some sort of amphibian, a tadpole that I happened to come across at the exact moment that it was transitioning from life in the water to life on land.  We literally have the expression "fish out of water" to describe someone in a situation which is totally alien to them.  And yet, here we are.

Nor is the mudskipper (mudskippers, rather - there are several species) alone.  There are lungfish of Australia, South America, and Africa, which are among the most popular of aquarium exhibits - even though I've never seen one out of water.  A few years back, much of the eastern US was in a tizzy about the invasive northern snakehead, a fish from East Asia that can crawl from pond to pond over dry land.  

I remember the news articles of the early 2000's treating this fish like it was some sort of ravenous mutant.  There were no fewer than three B movies (if not C or D movies) based on the fish - Snakehead Terror, Swarm of the Snakehead, and, using the popular nickname for the species in the media at the time, Frankenfish, as well as a catchy song by the parody musical group The Capitol Steps, "This Fish Was Made For Walkin'," a spoof off the popular Nancy Sinatra song.

That's not how this works.  None of this is how this works...

The fact is, there's nothing unnatural about fish getting out of the water, though relatively few species can do so.  It's just that we're fascinated by animals that don't follow "the rules."  Birds that don't fly.  Mammals that lay eggs.  Bears that live almost exclusively on bamboo.  There is no rule book in nature, though, except, perhaps, for do what you must to survive.

Species Fact Profile: Atlantic Mudskipper (Periopthalmus barbarus)

Atlantic Mudskipper

Periophthalmus barbarus (Linnaeus, 1766)

Range: West Africa

Habitat: Tidal Flats, Mangrove Forests.  Brackish water, with some tolerance for freshwater

Diet: Worms, Insects, Small Fish, Crustaceans

Social Grouping: Solitary, Territorial

Reproduction:  Sexual maturity reached at about 10 centimeters in length.  Breeding takes place year round, usually March-May.  Mating takes place in burrows, where the female deposits thousands of eggs.  The male guards the eggs after the female leaves.  Eggs hatch into larvae which drift in open water for 30-50 days.  Juveniles hide in the mud until they are large enough to establish territories

Lifespan: 5 Years

      Conservation Status: IUCN Least Concern

• Can grow up to 16 centimeters long.  Tadpole-shaped body.  Eyes are very large and protruding on the top of the head.   
• Best known for its ability to leave water and crawl on land.  The body is covered with scales which are in turn covered with a layer of mucous, which helps the fish retain moisture.  A pair of pectoral fins allows the fish to 'skip' along on land, traveling from one body to water to another.  Sometimes seen perched on logs above water
• Olive green coloration with light blue spotting, dorsal fins (which can stand erect) are bright blue
• Capable of storing water within their gill chambers, allowing them to breathe out of water; also capable of breathing through the skin
• Emerge to forage during low tides; during high tides, they hide in their burrows, which may be 1.5 meters long
• Feed by creating suction by opening their mouths suddenly while lunging, sucking in small animals.  Hunt from ambush positions
• Still common in the wild, but in decline due to overfishing (both for food, bait, and as pets), as well as pollution (their absorbent skin soaks up contaminants easily)
• Not currently bred under human care, due in part to difficulty in replicating their natural reproduction with burrows

To Prague with Pangolins

Pangolins are, paradoxically, both some of the world's most obscure animals and simultaneously some of the most coveted.  The vast majority of people have never heard of them.  For those who have, it's often in their capacity as the world's most heavily trafficked mammal.  The scales of the pangolin are greatly coveted in Traditional Chinese Medicine, which has led to the decimation of populations of all species of pangolin in both Africa and Asia.  Further complicating matters has been the historically dismal record of pangolins in zoos and rehab facilities.  Even when live pangolins were rescued from traffickers, they usually died shortly after.

Photo Credit: Taipei Zoo

In recent years, tremendous strides in pangolin husbandry have been made in the United States, with several zoos forming a consortium to work towards the conservation of West Africa's white-bellied tree pangolin.  The results have been promising, with increased longevity and reproduction taking place.  All of this has raised hopes that pangolins could be bred in zoos and, at some point, be used to repopulate wild habitats.

Recently, there has been some noise across the Atlantic of pangolin populations becoming established there.  In a twist on China's famous Panda Diplomacy, Taiwan is sending some of its rare Formosan pangolins to the Prague Zoo.  This is an enormous development in the zoo world, and if a population of these animals (already accustomed to zoo life in Taiwan) can get breeding, it could enormous implications for pangolin husbandry.  Not only could pangolins become established in European AND American zoos, but our understanding of their nutrition, medicine, and behavior could greatly improve our ability to rehabilitate and rescue pangolins from the animal trade and restore them to the wild.

Prague mayor eagerly prepares for arrival of Taipei Zoo pangolins

Taiwan's bold move is motivated just as much (probably more) by politics than by conservation.  The island nation lives in the shadow of its much larger, more powerful rival, China, which refuses to acknowledge the island's status as a sovereign nation.  Distributing pangolins is meant to be but one prong of a charm offensive as Taiwan seeks to build friendships and strengthen ties across the globe. 

Will Taiwan's 'pangolin diplomacy' be a turning point or a double-edged sword? 

Sister, Sister

Ok, so the last few posts have been pretty damn depressing.  Here's something lighter.  Recently, the Oregon Zoo welcomed polar bear Amelia Gray from the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore as a companion for their female bear, Nora.  The plot twist?  They're sisters!  Well, half-sisters, actually, both born at the Columbus Zoo, and they'd never met before.  No matter.  If the first intros are any indication, they're going to be fast friends.

Coronavirus Deaths in Lincoln

Jeez, and I thought 2020 stunk... A (very sad) message from Lincoln Children's Zoo in Nebraska.  Zoo animal vaccinations are still in short supply.  Human vaccinations are not.  Get the shot if you are eligible.

Remembering Winter

Last night, the world lost perhaps the single most famous marine mammal living under human care in the United States.  Winter, the Atlantic bottlenose dolphin who was the longtime star of Florida's Clearwater Marine Aquarium, passed away Thursday evening after battling a severe gastrointestinal infection.  She was believed to be 16 years old at the time of her death.  Born in the wild, Winter was best known for her prosthetic tail.  She had been outfitted with after her tail was amputated after being tangled in a rope.  The Aquarium is closed today to allow her former caretakers to mourn the loss.

When I visited the Clearwater Marine Aquarium a few years back, I was struck by the fact that I'd never been to a facility that was so completely focused on a single, individual animal.  The small, unassuming aquarium skyrocketed to fame with the 2011 release of the movie Dolphin Tale, which in turn had followed a children's book written about the dolphin back in 2009.  The film starred Harry Connick, Ashley Judd, Morgan Freeman, and, of course, Winter, who played herself.  A sequel came years later with another rescue dolphin, Hope, who survives Winter at CMA.  At the aquarium, virtually every sign, every docent, and every exhibit had some reference to the movie.  An entire wall of the facility was covered with letters and postcards, fan mail for the scrappy little dolphin.  It was hard to imagine Clearwater even existing before Dolphin Tale, let alone Winter herself.  I mean, their website is literally www.SeeWinter.com. 

Winter's story made her one of the most poignant of animal ambassadors in any zoo or aquarium across the country.   Her unique story also made her an icon for humans with prosthetic limbs, such as war amputees, many of whom sought her out to visit.  She brought tremendous attention to the plight of Florida's marine wildlife and helped the Clearwater Aquarium grow from what was essentially a few stock tanks to a constantly expanding facility; a recent expansion not only provided much more space for winter and her fellow dolphins, but will allow the aquarium to rehabilitate manatees as well.

I'm sure that this is a very difficult time for the staff of the Clearwater Marine Aquarium, and I'm sure that I join many of my colleagues in thinking of them in these difficult times.  I hope that they take solace in knowing that they provided this dolphin which a much better quality of life than she could have received without their care... and that in doing so, they made a positive difference in the lives of so many people.

Zoo Review: Lake Tobias Wildlife Park, Part II

Continuing from yesterday's start to our tour of Lake Tobias Wildlife Park, we continue to explore the walk-through portion of the park.

As you might infer from the name, Lake Tobias Wildlife Park is built around a lake.  Most of the animal exhibits that you access on foot are grouped on one end of the lake; the exceptions are the giraffes and associated exhibits that I mentioned in yesterday's post.  There isn't really any special grouping or organization to these habitats - geographic, taxonomic, thematic - so I'll be discussing them in general.

The best habitats in this area were the hoofstock habitats, a non-connected series of yards that hold species that, for one reason or another, might not work out as well in the Safari Tours.  These include plains zebras and ostriches in one yard, gemsbok in another, and chital (axis deer, or Asian spotted deer) in another.   These are all species that I've encountered before in safari park settings, so I'm not sure why Lake Tobias has decided to keep them separate, but I didn't think it was a poor decision (zebras especially have a reputation for causing trouble in large mixed-species habitats).

The three large carnivore habitats - lion, tiger, and American black bear - struck me as odd.  All three struck me as over-engineered, completely enclosed under dome-like roofs or metal grating.  Such exhibits are considerably more expensive to build that open-roof habitats and, due to structural reasons, tend to be smaller.  The habitats did strike me as a bit on the small side - especially the lion one - though not the worst I've seen.  I'm just very curious as to what the decision process was for that.  Was there perhaps some local ordinance that the park could only have big cats if they were roofed in?  Was there a bad experience in the past?  I don't know.  Assuming that there is no such policy, I would have recommended building (better, larger, cheaper) open-topped habitats for these species elsewhere in the park - there seems to be plenty of room.  The emptied exhibits could be repurposed for other cat species, such as leopard or puma, which should be roofed-over, or primates.

Speaking of which...

If Lake Tobias has a weakness, it's definitely the primate exhibits.  With the exception of the olive baboons (adjacent to the lions in a similar exhibit), some tamarins in the Reptile House, and black-and-white ruffed lemurs just outside, they were universally awful.  Small.  Bare.  Too exposed to the public.  There was a series of monkey corn-crib cages set into a petting yard of goats and sheep and I cringed looking at them.  At another habitat, an angry white-handed gibbon was reaching out a visitors, who reached back (thankfully there was enough of a secondary barrier in place), obviously unaware that the ape would rip their faces off.  If I were in a consulting role at Lake Tobias, new primate housing would be my number one priority.

There were a smattering of small bird exhibits around the park, as well as prairie dogs, collared peccary (in a habitat that, to my concern, it was possible to reach into - not sure how USDA let that one slide), kangaroos, and an attractive yard of capybara fronting a small lake.  A small museum serves as an educational center about the history of the park, also holding a 500-gallon freshwater aquarium and a toucan exhibit.  The last substantial habitat was the Reptile House which, I must say, was a lot more impressive than what I usually find at safari parks.  Usually you get cheap plywood cages with a few Burmese pythons and other pet store species.  This was actually a pretty attractive building with a decent collection, all wrapped around a central education presentation area that was in turn backed up against pools of American alligator and alligator snapping turtle.  The back wall of the building was a glass window into an aviary for various macaws, as well as Sarus cranes.  I was not the least bit surprised to find a staffer standing in the corner of the building alternating between letting visitors interact with a juvenile alligator and a ball python.

I used to be much more of a stickler about only visiting AZA-accredited institutions, so that I could be sure about the quality of the animal care.  I've found myself bending a little in recent years.  Part of it is because I've gotten to know a few excellent non-AZA facilities.  Part of it is also, I admit, a search for novelty.  AZA animal collections have become increasingly homogenous over the years, as some species are phased out in order to build more sustainable populations of other species.  What that translates to is lots of collections resemble one another.  Going to non-AZA zoos does offer some new animals; olive baboons, for example, are a species that is very abundant in the wild (I've had to chase them out of my campsites in Africa) but which you no longer see in AZA zoos.

Taken as a whole, Lake Tobias wasn't a bad facility.  Like many private zoos there is a strong focus on animal interaction - I was actually surprised not to see a budgie or lorikeet feeding aviary or a kangaroo walk-through, those being two staples of many such facilities.  I wouldn't say "no" to visiting again - I don't think I'd go too far out of my way to go back, but if I was in the area, I'd probably stop by out of curiosity.  There are definitely parts of the facility which should be either upgraded or replaced entirely, the primates being my strongest criticism.   That's something that's true of many facilities, accredited and otherwise.  I hope that, before making any further expansions, the park takes the opportunity to upgrade the facilities for some of the animals that it currently has.

Zoo Review: Lake Tobias Wildlife Park, Part I

Lake Tobias Wildlife Park is tucked away in rural central Pennsylvania, a considerable drive from either of the state's two major zoos.  It was founded by a former marine and lifelong animal lover and collector, J. R. Tobias.  The zoo is located at Tobias's former childhood home, and is still owned and operated by his family.  Like many safari-park style facilities, the grounds are divided into two parts.  One is a traditional zoo with enclosures of a variety of animals, which visitors see on foot.  The other is a safari ride, which takes visitors out among field habitats of ungulates and ratites.  Visitors to the park are given the option as to whether they would like to purchase entry for either the walk-around portion only, or to both sections.

I've visited many facilities like this, and my gut plan was to save myself some time and a few bucks and only go for the walk-around portion.  From my experience, safari rides don't offer much to excite zoo enthusiasts - they all tend to have the same animals, and I've never been too interested in feeding grain to begging bison.  Still, it was my first time here so I decided to get the full experience.  I paid for admission on the ride, though I did not get any feed.

The ride was actually one of the better ones that I've been on in every aspect.  The vehicle was comfortable and not over-crowded, the enclosure was spacious and attractive, and the animals reasonably diverse.  Above all, the tour guide was good.  He was equipped with lots of good facts and able to answer questions well - too often I feel like these guides have scripts that they've memorized and are as incapable of deviating from them as a train is from its tracks.

The species selection that you see on rides like this is always pretty limited, and while Lake Tobias at least had some diversity, there were no surprises on it.  There were American bison, Asian water buffalo, eland, wapiti (American elk), and fallow deer, along with emus and greater rheas.  For those who enjoy color morphs, several of the bison here are white (or whitish, at least).  There were a few breeds of domestic cattle - the two giant-horned breeds that are beloved of safari park owners, the Watusi and the longhorn, as well as brahman and Scottish highland cattle.  Domestics were further represented by llamas and domestic yaks.   So, not too exciting, but then again, the ride wasn't for me, it was for the people who haven't had an experience like this many times and for whom any large animal, domestic or wild, is exciting and different for them.  I did approve of the fact that, unlike some other parks I've been to, visits to this area were by guided, staff-driven tour only, which dramatically lessens the possibility of risky behavior or inappropriate contact between animals and visitors.

A herd of aoudad - a North African wild mountain sheep - were housed in an adjacent enclosure that we drove past, but didn't really stop at.  That was my biggest disappointment of the ride, as that's a species that used to be very common in zoos and is now considerably less so, and their enclosure (from the brief glimpse I got) looked very nice.  I would have liked to have stopped and watched them for longer, and maybe seen them run through the gullies and hills of their yard.

Another side enclosure held the largest animals in the park, the giraffes.  This was just a fleeting view, as the main location for seeing the giraffes is in the walking portion of the zoo, where you can find the inevitable deck for feeding the tall mammals.  The giraffe feeding station was packed when I walked by, with the three animals hardly able to keep up with the crowds of feeders.  The exhibit didn't really dazzle me, but neither did it make a bad impression.  Like most giraffe exhibits, even in the most famous of zoos, it's basically a flat paddock with a barn on one end.  It always amazes me that such impressive, unique animals that are so universally-beloved by zoo visitors always have such dull habitats... but I guess giraffes don't ask us for a lot, and many zoos are reluctant to tamper with a formula which has worked so well for so long.  Honestly, I was more impressed by the habitats for Cape porcupines and grey-crowned cranes on the path leading up to the giraffes.  There were actually the first habitats that I saw upon entering the Park, and they made a decent first impression on me.

Tomorrow, we'll continue the review of Lake Tobias Wildlife Park, focusing on the walking portion of the facility.

Lake Tobias Wildlife Park

Blow Your Whistle

When the concerned staff of Project Chimps had felt that their concerns about animal care were not being listened to by their leadership, they did the only thing that they felt they could do.  They became whistleblowers.   Those that did so did not make the decision lightly.  Among other consequences, it would mean the end of their careers.  Still, if they wanted to bring the problems to light and make a difference, it seemed like there was no other option.

Front-line staff at zoos, aquariums, sanctuaries, etc are the employees who have the most direct exposure to the animals.  That means that they are the ones who are likely to be the first to notice problems - health issues, husbandry challenges, deficiencies of the facilities, you name it.  It is their responsibility to bring those concerns to the attention of supervisors so that appropriate action can be taken, whether its bringing in the vet or making changes to the care protocols or even deciding to send the animal to another facility.

But what do you do if the boss hears you, but doesn't do anything?

For one thing, no matter how long you've been doing this, you should be willing to pause for a moment to consider that you may, in fact, be wrong.  That's the hardest part.  Our field is full of would-be Dr. Dolittles who are convinced that they and they alone know what's best for the animal.  I know I've been one.  Sometimes a curator or lead keeper will hear the concern and, based on their experience, decide that it's not actually a problem.  If so, they should then do their best to communicate that to the staff.  Ideally, you want everyone feeling good about the situation.  

This may be controversial, but I believe in giving management the benefit of the doubt.  If you have a nagging voice in the back of you head about it, make sure you document concerns.

But what if you know they're wrong, and animal welfare is suffering as a result?  Then, you may want to speak with an outside power - but knowing that once you do, you lose control of the situation.

If the facility is accredited by AZA, you can contact them.  At every AZA inspection I've been present for, inspectors have met with keepers privately, giving them a chance to anonymously raise concerns.  Again, maybe you'll raise something to them but they may tell you it's not a problem.  Be prepared to accept that.  If you go through that many levels, it really might be your mistake.

If the institution has a governing body - say, it's run by a city government - you can bring it up there.  Be prepared for the likelihood of the mayor or city council acknowledging that they don't know much about animals and yielding to more experienced judgement - like the people you've already asked.

If the animal that you have concerns about is a mammal, you can raise a concern with USDA - but they will only respond if it's an animal that falls under their purview (again, a mammal).  If you think you've seen actual, deliberate cruelty or criminal neglect, animal control can be contacted.

A final step is to go to the press.  If by this point no one seems to take the concern seriously, then you should probably consider leaving the institution, if you haven't already.

Scandals and Sanctuaries

Whenever there's a story in the news about zoos, you can guarantee that there's going to be someone in the comments taking a potshot about how zoos are all evil, and that if we wanted to be a morally superior being like the commenter, we should only support sanctuaries.  Sanctuaries, I've noted long ago, have that wonderful advantage of being facilities that most people don't actually understand.  Many of the people making these comments imagine them to be vast tracts of land where animals live just as they would in the wild, only minus the whole predation and disease and death aspects.

In reality, many sanctuaries are very much like zoos.  There are keepers, taking care of animals in enclosures, using protocols very similar to those used to care for zoo animals.  Still, because of their supposedly purer status, sanctuaries, I'm afraid to say, can sometimes get away with things that would not fly in public zoos or aquariums.  It's almost as if the title blankets them from criticism.

Well, for some facilities, that blanket has startled to unravel a little.

Activists Concerned with Living Conditions at Chimp Sanctuary

A slew of criticism has been aimed at Project Chimps, perhaps the most famous chimpanzee sanctuary in the United States.  The facility is supposed to be a rescue for animals that were formerly used as lab specimens.  Instead, the allegations from whistle-blowing former keepers claim that they chimps spend almost all of their time indoors on concrete and receive inadequate healthcare, among other complaints.  The facility, which is accredited by the Global Federation of Animal Sanctuaries (the sanctuary version of AZA) disputes the accusations.

Recently, I'd read additional complaints about another primate sanctuary, this one in Georgia, with firsthand accounts from both former keepers and perspective hires.  They described overcrowded monkeys wallowing in fecal matter and moldy food with no enrichment and far too few caretakers for the numbers of animals.  Management was described as highly toxic, spending more time worrying about the ideological purity (i.e., veganism) of staff than about animal care.  It sounded horrific.

I'm not bringing up these stories to bash sanctuaries, many of which are fine facilities that serve a great purpose.  I'm just exasperated that, if any of this nonsense was pulled at a well-known zoo, animal rights groups would be baying for blood.  Since these stories concern facilities that describe themselves as sanctuaries, however, they never make a peep. 

Species Fact Profile: Wood Frog (Lithobates sylvaticus)

                                                                     Wood Frog

Lithobates sylvaticus (LeConte, 1825)

Range: Alaska, Canada, northeastern United States)

Habitat: Freshwater Wetlands, Moist Woodlands

Diet: Small terrestrial invertebrates (beetles, slugs, spiders).  Tadpoles eat algae

Social Grouping: Solitary

Reproduction:  Breeds in temporary seasonal pools early in the spring.  Female deposits eggs on objects at the bottom of the pool, forming large masses of 1000-3000 eggs.  Eggs laid in warmer water hatch faster than eggs in cooler water (difference of 10-14 days versus one month).  Tadpoles metamorphose into adults at 2-4 months post hatching.  Males sexually mature at 1-2 years, females at 2-3 years.

Lifespan: 3-5 Years

      Conservation Status: IUCN Least Concern

• Body length 5-7 centimeters, weigh about 8 grams (females larger than males)
• Brown, tan, or rust-color on the back, pale yellow or green on the underside.  Characteristic black robber mask stripe across the eyes, white outline around the lips
• Males and females cannot distinguish each other by sight.  Instead, courting males will hop on top of strange frogs and embrace them.  If the frog they are holding does not feel large enough to be a female full of eggs, they will let go and search for another.  If a male is grabbed by another male, he will croak to let the other frog know
• One of the most cold-tolerant of frogs, and one of the first to emerge in the spring, even before the snow has melted.  Enter dormancy in winter, burrowing in the soil or leaf litter.  Capable of tolerating some freezing of blood and body tissues (up to 65% of their body water can freeze).  Their body produces a natural antifreeze to prevent cell damage
• Predators include larger frogs, snakes, herons, and small mammalian carnivores (raccoons, skunks, etc).  Beetles and other tadpoles may eat wood frog tadpoles.  Adults rely on camouflage to protect them from predators; also have skin secretions, but not especially potent ones
• Not yet endangered, but in decline due to loss of habitat (especially breeding pools), contamination of freshwater ecosystems through road salt and other pollutants

Bad Things Come In Threes

It's been a rough month for the Giants of the Savanna team at the Dallas Zoo.  Three giraffes have passed away in the span of a month.  Two of them were adult animals, and may be linked by a possible medical issue, such as a contaminant.  The third was a calf, whose death was the result of an accident.  It's hard losing one giraffe - let alone three - and I'm very sorry that the staff is having to deal with this.

In recent years, zoos have adopted a much more open manner of discussing animal comings and goings with the public.  It used to be that all births were kept quiet at first in case the neonate didn't survive.  Deaths were quietly ignored, lest thy generate bad press.  Today, there's an emphasis on being completely honest with the public and sharing all news.  It helps members of the community know that nothing is being kept hidden from them and that the animals are receiving the best possible care, even when things go wrong.  In situations like this, it also enables the public to join the staff in mourning the loss.

The downside of this, of course, is that everyone hears about all of the deaths, which leads some members of the public to decide that they're going to play Sherlock Holmes and try solving mysteries, even when there weren't any.  Excluding Dallas, there was a spate of giraffe deaths earlier this year across the country.  There was no connection between any of them - some were age related, some medical, some accidental, in one case a fire - and they took place at zoos spread over thousands of miles.  Still, I saw lots of people going on about "What's going on with giraffes all the sudden?" and trying to prove some sort of link between them all, as if there were a giraffe-killing conspiracy underway.  The fact is, there are just a lot of giraffes in zoos in this country, which means that there's always a few that are getting ready to pass.  Sometimes, a few of them just happen to go in rapid succession and, unlike when you were younger, now we're actually telling you what's going on. 

Best wishes to the Dallas team during this hard time.  It'll get better, but in the meantime know that a lot of us are thinking of you.    

Debbie Downer

I can be quick to volunteer for things.  Sometimes, a little too quick.  During a performance review years back, my boss suggested that, the next time he asked for volunteers for something, that I count to five quietly before jumping in.  This would, a) possibly reduce the number of things on my plate, and b) give someone else a chance to volunteer.  I remember quipping that I'd count to a hundred if I thought that it would actually make a difference and someone else would step up to the plate.  He laughed pretty hard.

I wasn't too impressed with my coworkers back in those days.

Among the things that, ill-advisedly or not, I volunteered for back in those days was to go to a high school for their career day.  I had a half-hour segment blocked off, with the topic of "So You Want To Be a Zookeeper?"  I put a PowerPoint presentation on a flashdrive, tossed a ball python into a pillow case (it had absolutely no relevancy to the talk, but I feel like when you go to something like this, you're expected to have an animal), and put on a clean uniform.  Or, at least a uniform that started the day as clean.  The talk wasn't until 1PM, after all.

I gave my standard talk about what it's like to be a zookeeper.  The kids seem to enjoy it.  They laughed, plenty of times - both with me and at me.  They asked good questions.  The snake was a hit, as it always was and always will be.  Afterwards, I was chatting with the teacher while waiting for the next session to come in, when she hit me with a question that I hadn't been expected.  "Was I trying to discourage the kids from applying?"  She wasn't even a little angry or upset - more that she was slightly confused.  So was I.

I guess that, unlike anyone else who spoke to her kids that week, I'd spent plenty of time talking about the downsides of being a keeper as I did the positives.  I mentioned the fiercely competitive hiring process, the poor pay (I've generally gotten by ok, but I've also been very lucky in that I didn't start off with student debt), and missed holidays and time with friends and family.   I was clear to point out the physical and emotional toll that the job can take on you.  I distinctly remember highlighting the crazy turnover that I'd seen over the years.  

"Zookeeping," I told the kids, "is a job that a lot of people think they want."

I guess everyone else was trying to sell their jobs, or convince the kids that they - the nurses, the bakers, the graphic design artists - were the luckiest people in the world.  They weren't, I knew back then.  I was.  Still, none of them talked about the hardships of their job and why it might not be for everyone.  

Zookeeping and aquarium jobs are not one-size-fits-all, everyone should sign up.  No job is.  Every job requires a trade-off, and it's a question of finding one that's in line with your passions, skills, interests, and abilities.  Honestly, there are plenty of people who should not be keepers - including some who do become keepers.  It wouldn't be the right fit for them - and, until they realize that, it wouldn't be the right situation for the animals under their care.

I doubt that anyone who is truly meant to be a keeper would be turned off the path by a little fussing from a grumpy old-timer at their high school career day.  It might have spooked off a few kids who thought that they were going to play with animals all day.  To them, I probably didn't make the job sound that fun.  For anyone who was listening, though, the rewards would have still be evident.