Opportunity Knocks

Early on in my zookeeping career, in what I like to think of as my formative years, I got a left-handed gift from the zookeeping gods which I still look back upon with gratitude.  I was paired with the laziest-ass, most unambitious, jobs-worth coworkers I could have ever imagined.  Yes, in many ways they proved to be useless.  Yes, I frequently had to go behind them to do things properly.  Yes, when I left for the weekend, I did so with the assumption that nothing other than the bare minimum would be done before I came back, and I always planned accordingly (made sure my feed bins were fills, everything was cleaned extra nicely, etc). Still, there were times I considered it a blessing.

Why?  Because while they never wanted to do the hard work of zookeeping, they likewise never showed much drive in doing the fun parts as well.  

When there was the rare chance in those days to handraise a baby animal, I got the experience.  When there was the opportunity to transport an animal to another zoo and explore that facility (sometimes an overnight trip!), I got to do it.  Conferences?  No one else was interested.  Professional development opportunities?  All mine.  Chances to serve on committees and lead projects that go to steer the future of the zoo?  No one else was raising their hand.

Yes, part of this was that when asked, my hand was always the first to shoot up.  But in the defense of my boss, he really did try to give everyone else the chance.  There were many opportunities for them, and sometimes people would sort of show interest, but never seriously.  One coworker was set to attend a training at another zoo, before he realized he'd have to miss a party one of his friends was going.  He bailed last minute, and I swooped in.  Another was willing to transport an animal to Florida (in the zoo vehicle), but only if she could stay for a few extra days to go to the beach (again, keeping the zoo vehicle down there).  When permission for the extension was denied, she lost interest.

Eventually, these guys all went out to greener pastures and were replaced by a more enthusiastic crowd.  I did regret no longer being first in line (well, only in line) for every opportunity to do something fun and different, but it was worth it for the improvement in the care that the animals received and the all-around atmosphere and culture of the facility.

Exciting opportunities to grow professionally - especially travel - should be shared fairly among staff.  Fairly does not *always* mean equally.  Yes, for one thing seniority should come into play - though I'm surprised sometimes to see some zoos use travel, ostensibly for training, as a reward for staff that are about to retire.  I mean, yes, it's nice to get out and about, but you're spending time and money to impart this knowledge to someone who is about to leave!  At the same time, it's not always wise to bestow too much on the brand new staff.  There's enough to learn at the facility with the basics to keep them busy without overwhelming them.  Also, if your facility has a lot of turnover (a lot of people start off thinking they want to be zookeepers, but change their minds with experience), you're again just wasting money.

Every keeper should have the expectation of having the zoo invest in their professional development in a reasonably timely fashion.  Maybe not in their first year, but you shouldn't have to wait for five or six keepers to die before a spot opens up a week before you are scheduled to retire.  At the same time, keepers should understand that these opportunities exist both for the benefit of the keeper and for that of the zoo, and that the goal is come back with experiences and ideas that will help their facility - not just as a vacation.  

Song of the Vulture

Recently, a colleague of mine at a different facility had the opportunity - just by chance, since it wasn't in an area where she worked - to witness a vulture hatch from its egg.  What impressed her the most about the experience was that, prior to the hatching, she could hear the chick calling out from within the shell.  Considering that the vultures as a whole are not a group known for their vocal range, it was quite a surprise for her.  I know I was surprised when she told me.

I'm sure I've said it before, and I'll probably say it again, but what constantly amazes me about animals is that we still know so little about them.  Even species which are common in the wild or frequently kept in zoos have so much info that is unknown to us.  What that means, fortunately, is that we have so many opportunities to learn more and expand our knowledge.  Every measurement, every observation, even every anecdote can become a new data point.

The famed naturalist Louis Agassiz once told his students, "Study Nature, Not Books."  This was a reflection of how much misinformation had been passed down from generations - since ancient times - and never questioned or reexamined. Granted, I love books and past sources are the foundation of our learning.  But there is no substitute for going to the original source - the animals themselves - and learning from them.

From the News: Bear at Saint Louis Zoo Escapes Twice in One Month

 Bear at Saint Louis Zoo escapes, prompting lockdown

Mother Lizard

The prehensile-tailed skinks that lived in the back of the reptile house were two of my favorite lizards in the collection.  They were curious, personable, engaging, and always seemed to enjoy climbing up my arms and over my shoulders as I serviced their enclosure, hosing down everything to create the high-humidity environment that they enjoyed.  That is, until that one day that they weren't.

I'd opened the enclosure door (their habitat was tall and glass-encased, reminding me of a shower stall) and was surprised not to see them out and about.  When I peeked into a hanging tube of cork bark, I was barely able to pull my face back in time before the female lunged out and clamped her jaws shut on the space where my nose had been seconds before.  I spotted the male too at this point.  His glare was also decidedly unfriendly.

When I reported this change in behavior to the curator, I was told, "Sounds like they had a baby last night."  And, sure enough, when the female was eventually coaxed out of the log, inside was a perfect little copy of the parents.  Well, not *that* little.  Seeing the offspring, it reminded me of an adult human woman having given birth to an elementary schooler.  Unlike some of the other reptile babies that we had, this one came as a slight surprise, as there were no eggs.  

Lots of lizards and snakes (no turtles or crocodilians) give live birth - all of the boas and most of the vipers, for example.  In some cases, the eggs are retained inside the body and hatch there before emerging from the mother as free youngsters.  In others, such as the prehensile-tailed skink, there's a placental birth, as in with mammals.  In many of these species, there is no parental care, or at least not much, while this species again shows extensive protective care of its (usually) single large young - again, more like a mammal than a lizard.

Mom and dad eventually settled back down, responding well to my temporary keeping philosophy of "drop the food and leave them alone."  They eventually decided to become friendly again, but did it on their terms, which I was fine with.  Baby followed their lead and eventually became quite the little snuggle-bug as well.  Watching the family grow together was a fascinating glimpse into the social and parental life of a group of animals that, rightly or wrongly, we seldom think of as especially caring.

Species Fact Profile: Prehensile-Tailed Skink (Corucia zebrata)

                                Prehensile-Tailed (Solomon Island) Skink

                                                Corucia zebrata (Gray, 1855)

Range: Solomon Islands  

Habitat:  Tropical Rainforest

Diet: Flowers, Leaves, Fruits, Shoots

Social Grouping: Pairs, Family Groups

Reproduction:  Female gives true live birth, nurturing the developing young with a placenta.  Pregnancy lasts 6-8 months.  Single births are most common, though twins and (on one documented occasion) triplets have been observed.  Neonates are very large, nearly half the size of the mother.  Both parents care for the young. Juveniles typically leave the group at one year old in order to breed, but some have been known to stay with their parents for several years as part of a family group  without being driven away.

Lifespan: 25-30 Years

      Conservation Status: CITES Appendix II

• World’s largest skink species, with total length of up to 80 centimeters (nearly half of which is tail).  Weigh 395-850 grams. 
• Body is long and slender with strong, short legs and a triangular shaped head with a blunt snout, large eyes, and large jaws.  The toes have thick, curved claws to aid in climbing.  The males tend to have broader heads, more slender bodies than the females.  Scales are large and smooth.  Males also have a “V” shaped pattern of scales just aft of the cloacae
• The tail is prehensile (species is also known as the monkey-tailed skink) and used in climbing, cannot be regenerated if lost
• Coloration is olive-green to dark green, speckled with light brown or black flecks.  Speckles sometimes resemble a zebra’s stripes, hence the Latin name.  Underside is light green or yellow
• Primary active at dawn and dusk, with most foraging occurring at dusk.  During the day they rest hidden in branches or tree hollows
• Good eyesight and good sense of smell (primary sense for finding food as well as for identifying other members of its family group), uses tongue-flicking and its Jacobson’s organ on roof of the mouth like a snake
• Juveniles eat the feces of adults in order to acquire their microflora to aid in digestion.  
• Both males and females are territorial, aggressive towards individuals that are not a part of their family group, though a group may consist of more than one breeding pair.  Members of the group will protect each other, including those that they are not directly related to.  Females become especially aggressive in the build-up to parturition
• Almost strictly arboreal, usually found in the upper canopy of the forest (especially associated with strangler fig trees – genus Ficus)
•  Predators include birds of prey, snakes, and rats.  If threatened, they will hiss and bite
• Two subspecies – the southern, or common (C. zebrata zebrata) and the northern (C. zebrata alfredscmidti – named after an amateur German herpetologist).  The northern subspecies is smaller and has darker eyes and a black sclera (“white” of eye).  It is possible that skinks from different islands might not be reproductively compatible.  A significant number of pairings of skinks from different islands in controlled settings have resulted in non-productive unions, with important implications for captive breeding programs
• Primary threat is illegal logging, as well as loss of habitat for agricultural purposes.  Also threatened by hunting for food by local peoples, collection for sale on the pet trade.  Survival threats are exacerbated by their low reproductive rate.  Due to limited range on small islands, climate change and rising sea levels could also impact this species in the future

Flaco's Flight

It has been almost a month since Eurasian eagle owl Flaco escaped his enclosure at the Central Park Zoo after the mesh was cut by a vandal.  Efforts to recapture the bird have so far proven unsuccessful, though the bird was recently been observed eating prey that it has captured, so at least immediate fears of starvation are less-pressing.  It's always impressive when a zoo-born animal is able to re-adapt to a life in the wild, even in such an unnatural habitat as Manhattan and feed itself - it reminds me of the potential for reintroduction programs down the road.  

At the same time, I would hardly call this a success.  The bird's welfare is likely severely compromised, it could predate native raptors, potentially hybridize with wild great horned owls, get hit by a car, or eat a rat that has been poisoned and die terribly.

An Update on the Eurasian Eagle Owl

What frustrates me the most is that some idiots out there might just see this as a success and take it as an invitation to release more animals into the wild with even worse results.  The criminal investigation into the vandalism continues, and I hope that whoever is responsible for it is found and prosecuted soon - before they inspire more copycats.

Growing Up Pangolin

There are few animals that I track with interest in zoos more than pangolins.  These scaly, anteater-like mammals are among the most endangered and highly-trafficked species on earth, and could certainly benefit from more ex situ conservation efforts.  In the past they've been considered almost impossible to keep alive in zoos, and breeding would have been absurd to even consider.  Thankfully, we seem to be gradually cracking the code to manage these amazing creatures, as evidenced by Prague Zoo welcoming the first ever pangolin born in Europe!  The pup is receiving supplemental care after it was determined that the mother wasn't producing milk, but hey - it's a start!

Deja Zoo

Last year, I visited Chattanooga's Tennessee Aquarium for the first time.  Whereas I usually do a lot of my zoo visits solo, on this occasion I was joined by a colleague from the National Aquarium in Baltimore.  It was the first visit for both of us.  We were approaching the building, my attention distracted by views of the Tennessee River, when my companion stopped in her tracks.  

"Oh, you have got to be kidding," she muttered as she looked ahead.  The glass pyramids that crowned the aquarium were a mirror image of those at Baltimore.  As we entered and wandered the galleries, her exasperation mounted.  The rainforest under the glass pyramid.  The winding ramps leading downward, surrounded by giant fish tanks.  Even the font on the signage.  "I feel like I could give a tour of this place," she quipped, "and I've never even been here before."

I've understood the feeling.  I too have encountered deja zoo - being struck by the strong similarity between two institutions.  Como Park Zoo and Henry Vilas Zoo, for example, or Cape May County Zoo and Metro Richmond Zoo. The similarities may be due to similar animal collections, similar architecture, or similar settings.

There can be a few reasons for this.  One is that, with zoo animals no longer coming from the wild in significant numbers (especially mammals), the least common species (the "One and Only" is how I've referred to them in the past) are becoming less common, and animal collections are trending towards becoming a bit more homogenous.  Secondly, the trend towards geographic exhibits has resulted in a lot of repetition - African Savannah, Asian Highland, South American Rainforest - with the same species being highlighted (understandably, zoos tend not to build exhibit complexes that would feature species that they don't have and can't get).  Third, many zoos are using the same small number of companies to design their exhibits, hence the similar structures.  Fourth, as we learn more and more about the needs of animals and best practices of their care, there's more of a desire to replicate that.  After all, if you know a practice works for a given species, why wouldn't everyone want to copy what works best?

For many visitors, the trend might not be as noticeable, because most visitors usually only go to a) their local zoo/aquarium, and b) a destination facility that may have a reputation as a major attraction on its own, such as the San Diego Zoo.  For zoo aficionados (especially those who have been going to zoos for many years and have seen the homogenization in effect), it can be a bit more striking, as some zoos loose the facilities and animals that made them unique and start to blend together.

I can understand and appreciate the desire to build sustainable populations and to replicate successful practices.  I just also like to hold on to the features that make some zoos unique.  Some of those are things that will never change, especially if they are geography-based - Cheyenne Mountain Zoo's breathtaking scenery, Zoo Miami's subtropical climate, the Manhattan skyline from the Central Park Zoo.  Others are more exhibit-specific: Los Angeles Zoo's roundhouses, Milwaukee's predator/prey dioramas, Philadelphia Zoo's overhead tunnels (which themselves are a feature which is being duplicated at many other facilities now).  

There is, I am sure, a way for facilities to be both excellent and adhering to the same high standards while also finding their own ways to be unique and stand apart from the crowd.  

Zoo Review: Henry Vilas Zoo, Part II

Continuing our tour of the Henry Vilas Zoo, we come to the Children's Zoo, nestled alongside the lake.  Like many children's zoos, this one is dominated by play structures and domestic animal contact areas, as well as rides in the form of a carousel and a short train ride that chugs along the edge of the water.  It would be a mistake to bypass this area if you don't have kids in attendance, however, because some of the most interesting animals in the zoo - including many of the small mammals - are tucked away here.  Entrance to the Children's Zoo takes you past a grassy yard with a small mixed-flock of Chilean and American flamingos, then to a mesh-enclosed habitat for white-handed gibbons.  A small mammal house features wrap around viewing for aardvark, meerkat, crested porcupine, and red pandas.  And, for weary parents who are tired from chasing their kids back and forth across the zoo grounds, the koi pond is a pleasant place to site and catch one's breath.

The nearby Discovery Center/Herpetarium offers a small but interesting collection of reptiles and amphibians, including outdoor exhibits for American alligator and Aldabra tortoise.  The tortoises also have indoor viewing as well, a worthwhile feature for any reptile exhibit located in Wisconsin, I would think (I'm actually surprised that the alligator exhibit didn't as well).

The remainder of the zoo is taken up by North American exhibits.  Bison graze a plain and rather basic field exhibit grandiosely named the George Fait North American Prairie (prairie dogs found nearby as well), with harbor seals in a nearby pool (which, to be honest, I found viewing of difficult through he glass.  For most visitors, the stars of this area will be the bears of Arctic Passage.  Grizzly and polar bears (a very popular species that's starting to become something of a rarity in zoos) occupy side-by-side yards, with a Tundra Buggy nearby for kids to explore.  The polar bears have an excellent underwater viewing area with seating available, and can also be viewed from the nearby Glacier Grille restaurant.   While this isn't the single most amazing polar bear exhibit I've seen (probably points to Columbus or Detroit for that), it was better than most, and I don't think I've ever been to a polar bear exhibit were the bears were so active and engaged.  The pair was tussling in the pool when I was there, and even though it seemed like every visitor in the zoo was at the window that day, I still got an excellent view (there are windows set both below the water and at the water level, and I enjoyed views from both.  It was a reminder to me of just how amazingly fun polar bears can be to watch when they are in their element.  I could have watched for far longer than I did.

I did say that for *most* visitors the bears would be the highlight of the North American section.  For zoo visitors, however, the most famous attraction is the tiny Wisconsin Heritage exhibit nearby, featuring sandhill cranes and what is probably the world's best exhibit of Wisconsin's state mammal, the American badger.  The stocky weasel-relatives have a spacious yard with lots of digging opportunities, while the nearby viewing bunker provides educational materials about badgers and their cultural role in Wisconsin life.  There is, of course, a nearby statue of a certain college mascot on a bench, where I'm sure many incoming freshman have groaned with exasperation as their parents have insisted on having their pictures taken.

Henry Vilas is a pleasant little zoo, one that certainly would seem to satisfy the small-city demands of Madison by providing a representative collection of the animals folks are most keen to see.  Some of the exhibits seem a little underwhelming, if not "bad" - the giraffe exhibit, for instance, was just kind of bland (but then again, most giraffe exhibits are).  The zoo really shines at its best when it breaks the mold and provides exciting exhibit space dedicated to animals that might not receive such attention elsewhere, like its badger exhibit (though one complaint - I really think the sandhill cranes should receive an upgrade to make them an equal attraction for Wisconsin Heritage - Madison lies in the flight path of migrating sandhill cranes - I saw some later that day - and those are truly one of the most iconic species of the region).  I don't know that I would have made too much effort to seek the zoo out if I hadn't already been passing through, but I between the badger exhibit, the porcupines, the pleasurable experience of watching the polar bears, and a few other highlights, I'm certainly glad I stopped by.

Zoo Review: Henry Vilas Zoo, Part I

In 1904, the city of Madison, Wisconsin was gifted a parcel of 50 acres of land from William and Anna Vilas in honor of their late young son, Henry.  It was the grieving parents' wish that the land be used as a park - free of admission - for the pleasure of the city people, especially children.  In 1911, about half of the park was designated for a zoo, which, like the park itself, was and continues to this day to be free admission.  Nestled up against Lake Wingra, this medium-sized zoo recently celebrated its 100-year anniversary with renovation of several exhibits and is easily one of the finest in Wisconsin.

As I strolled across the zoo grounds, it occurred to me that this was a zoo that seemed almost perfectly designed with the parents of small children in mind. It's relatively compact, easy to navigate (though some of the paths were a little confusing), and the collection is predominately made up of the so-called ABC animals - those charismatic species (usually large mammals) that the public is most eager to see.  I got an immediate sense of what I call deja zoo, the feeling that this zoo very closely resembles another.  In this case, I saw a lot of similarities with the Como Park Zoo in St. Paul, Minnesota, incidentally another free zoo, with many species in common.  I've actually had to catch myself a few times to try to remember if a certain memory came from one zoo or the other.

Immediately upon entering Henry Vilas Zoo, visitors can find themselves at the small Discovering Primates house. It has few exhibits, but covers the basic groups (in addition to some rock hyrax) - prosimians, monkeys, and apes.  The later are represented by orangutans, which can be seen indoors or in their adjacent outdoor exhibit.  Directly outside of the primate area are back-to-back exhibits for the two great cats, Amur tigers and lions.  Both cats can be seen through mesh or through tall viewing windows in outdoor educational areas.  Across from the lions is a large paddock for white rhinoceros, which is itself then next to a hoofstock area.  Giraffe are the star attraction here, with adjacent yards of domestic Bactrian camel and Somali wild ass, the later a species that isn't encountered too often in zoos and was something of a pleasant surprise.  

The Aviary primarily consists of one indoor walk-though bird exhibit featuring macaws, curassows, and waterfowl, with a few side exhibits of small primates and turtles.  The outside of the building features habitats for North American river otter (with underwater viewing) and capybara.  Outside the Aviary is a small and (if I'm being blunt), not terribly impressive exhibit for African penguins.  It wasn't terrible, mind you, but when you've seen exhibits with large colonies of these social birds, it's hard to get that interested in very small displays.

Occasionally, Henry Vilas Zoo breaks its pleasant but somewhat basic mold with something more exciting, and an example of that is the porcupine exhibit.  Many zoos have North American porcupines, usually as a small side-habitat.  Here, North America's second largest rodents are given a large habitat tucked alongside lion and tiger, with plenty of room (though I think it could benefit from more climbing structures to display their arboreal nature).  It was easily one of the highlights of the visit.  I've seen a lot of lion, giraffe, and African penguin exhibits, some better or more memorable than others.  I've never seen a really, really good North American porcupine exhibit, and with open air viewing to allow observation without mesh in the way.  This exhibit actually proved to be a fun preview for a later display, for which the zoo is perhaps the most well-known.

We'll continue through Henry Vilas Zoo tomorrow.

Henry Vilas Zoo

Superb Owl Sunday

Compliments of Joel Sartore's Photo Ark, for those of us with only a vague idea of what's going on today and are not especially inclined to learn more.

Super Bowl Picks 2023

Tomorrow is the big game!  Looking to place a last minute bet, but not sure which team to back?  Let your favorite zoo animal be your guide in this annual tradition!  These might be the only part of the Super Bowl build up that I actually enjoy.

Cincinnati Zoo

Phoenix Zoo

Omaha's Henry Doorly Zoo

AITA: Zoo Edition

One of the most popular social media forums these days is Reddit's beloved "Am I the A--hole?," which describes itself as "A catharsis for the frustrated moral philosopher in all of us."  It's a guilty pleasure of mine at all times, but I especially got a kick out of this one because it was zoo-related.  Public sentiment seems to be firmly in the support of the original poster.  What do you think?

For myself, I like the fact that folks seem to be al about showing empathy to the animals, though I do have to admit, some of this seems a little odd to me.  I like to be quiet and respectful around animals, but this does seem a little of an exaggeration.  Koalas do sleep - a lot - but from my experience (as a zoo visitor for this species, never as a keeper), they aren't easily disturbed, and I'm having a hard time imagining a crying baby getting them too wound up, let alone "scurrying" away en masse.  (You know what also lives in trees in Australia?  Cockatoos.  And those jerks are a lot louder than an army of screaming babies).

Nor do koalas go into cubby holes - they live on trees, not in cavities, and in the dozen or so zoos I've seen them in, I've never seen one dive into a tree cavity, let alone several at once.

So, as is often the case with these Reddit stories, I'm wondering if this ever happened, or at the very least if maybe OP isn't exaggerating just a smidge.

Loved to Death

The details about the Dallas Zoo animal shenanigans continue to unfold, with the suspect telling police that, if released, he'd almost certainly go back and try again.  It seems that the initial incident, cutting open the clouded leopard habitat, was an attempt to steal the animal; he was unsuccessful, but did get to pet the cat a little before it took off.  Likewise, the cut on the langur exhibit was also an attempted abduction.  Third time seems to be the charm with the tamarins, but so far I don't think that the gentleman in question has been connected to the most disturbing of the incidents, the killing of the vulture. 

Which wouldn't be completely surprising - it was of a different nature than the other crimes.

Why did this man feel compelled to come into the zoo and attempt to take these animals?  Apparently, it's because he really, really loves animals, and wanted them for himself.  Which, I suppose differentiates him from that other group we were possibly suspecting, animal rights extremists, who really, really love animals and want to set them free.  Who are in turn distinguished from zookeepers, who really, really love animals and just want to work with them in a professional setting.

Pretty much everyone says that the love animals.  But that means different things to different people.  For some people, it's about collection and possession, or others its about sacrifice and service, and for others its about wanting what you think is best for them.  For many, it's a combination of all of these.  Other people love the *idea* of animals, like as an abstract, but don't actually want anything to do with them - and might find that, if they did have to deal with animals, they might not actually enjoy the experience.

The thing is, animals don't really care what you think or feel about them - because it doesn't matter.  It matters what we actually do for them.  Giving this guy the tiniest benefit of a doubt (unless it turns out he did kill the vulture, in which case, to hell with him), I could imagine that he might, on some level, feel like he loved those tamarins and wanted to give them a happy home.  But he couldn't, I bet - not the right habitat, not the right diet, not the right vet care, not the right social group.  Those animals would have been scared and miserable and sick and, in all likelihood, dead.  

And "loving them" doesn't make up for that in the least.

Pride, Prejudice, and Rarity

"I think it was at this time that I suddenly realized the full meaning of the term 'rare.'  Hitherto when people talked about a rare animal I had always been under the impression that this simply meant that it was rare in museum collections or in zoological gardens, but actual rarity in numbers had not really impinged on me.  This, I think, was because people tended to say an animal was rather rare as though this were an accolade, as though it were something the animal should be proud of."

- Gerald Durrell, A Bevy of Beasts

The Angolan python, in appearance, at least, resembles nothing as much as a somewhat larger version of a ball python - I could easily imagine seeing a very large ball python or a small Angolan python labeled as each other in a zoo display, and me not noticing the difference if I didn't look too closely.  The one is a species which has been very uncommon in the pet trade - and not extremely common in zoos - due to the difficulty in collected specimens from war-torn Angola.  The other is one of the most common pet snakes in the world.

What makes the Angolan python so desirable to so many pet keepers, then?  Why is an Angolan python highlighted in reptile houses, while the ball python is used for education programs?

The answer is the rarity.   If the situations were reversed, I could imagine Angolans being "a trash snake" that zoo snobs barely glanced at, with facilities being flooded with requests to take in surrendered pets, while balls were treated as gems.

The Durrell quote at the top of this post has always spoken to me, because it seems that we value some animals solely because they're rare, and value them for that rarity alone.  In some contexts, in could make sense - ideally zoos and aquariums would be devoting resources to conserving and breeding rare animals.  In other cases, it can decidedly take a sinister turn.  When a species of chelonian, or parrot, or frog, or what have you, is known to be rare, that has a tendency to immediately make it more desirable in the pet trade - legal or otherwise - than it would if it were common.  That in turn has a tendency to drive demand and result in more collection (often illegal, usually unsustainable) from the wild to feed the demand, further endangering the species in the wild.

Even in zoos, where we are committed to conservation, we sometimes talk in such a manner where we seem to be bragging.  It's like we're saying that if we have an animal that is this rare, you know it must mean we're a good zoo.

I sometimes also worry that it creates the impression that rarer animals have more value (in an inherent rather than financial sense) that common ones.  That's simply not true.  A giant panda does not *deserve* better care than an American black bear just because one is found in three US zoos and the other is in hundreds.  Every animal deserves the best care that we can provide them, whether they are rare or common, exotic, native, or domestic - and whether we are zookeepers or private pet owners.

I wonder if maybe messaging would be different if we re-framed how we talked about rarity.  Yes, some animals - apex predators, island species, extreme specialists - are naturally rare.  But many others are only rare because of our activities.  Perhaps we should view an animal's rarity not as something that the animal should be proud of - but rather as something that we should be ashamed of.

Species Fact Profile: Angolan Python (Python anchietae)

                                                          Angolan Python

                                                Python anchietae (Bocage, 1887)

Range: Southwestern Africa (southern Angola, northern Namibia)  

Habitat:  Dry open bush and grassland

Diet: Small Mammals and Birds, Lizards 

Social Grouping: Solitary

Reproduction: Clutches of 4-5 (sometimes up to 10) eggs incubated 65-70 days.  Hatchlings are approximately 15-20 centimeters long.

Lifespan: 30 Years

      Conservation Status: IUCN Least Concern  CITES Appendix II

• Body length up to 1.8 meters.  Weigh approximately 1.5-1.8 kilograms.  Have distinctive "bead-like" scales (especially prominent on the head), an adaptation of their arid range (this arrangement helps trap moisture)
• Base color is reddish-brown (sometimes darker, almost black) with large, irregular white or cream-colored bands and spots.  Yellow on the underside.  The snake is often said to resemble a larger version of the ball python, one of the most commonly-kept pet snakes in the world
• Closely associated with rocky outcroppings.  Active by day, taking shelter in small caves and crevices at night
• Sometimes called Anchieta's dwarf python, the Latin name honors the Portuguese explorer Jose de Anchieta
• Sought after in the international pet trade, but the inaccessibility of its range (made all the more treacherous in recent years by warfare and land-mining in Angola) has historically made it a rare species on the market

Good News, as well as Bad

In the rapidly-developing world of zoo-related vandalism, a topic that I never thought I'd have to devote so much study to, we have good news as well as bad.  The good news is that the Dallas Police Department has announced an arrest in the case of the stolen tamarins.  It's unclear at his point if the man arrested for this crime is also involved in the other acts of mischief and cruelty that have plagued the Texas zoo since the beginning of the year.  It may seem too much of a coincidence that there could be multiple zoo-pranksters running amok.  Well, unless the defendant has been super busy and very well traveled as of late (as in, crossing several states last night)... we might have to face that possibility.

Suspect arrested in case of tamarin monkeys missing from Dallas Zoo, police say

Rescuers monitoring Central Park Zoo owl after exhibit vandalized

Because as I write this, some very frustrated keepers from New York's Central Park Zoo are watching a Eurasian eagle owl sitting in a tree staring back down at them.  Like the Dallas Zoo's clouded leopard which was loose last month, this owl did not get out on its own - the enclosure was vandalized.  Staff have eyes on the bird and hope to trap it and get it home soon.

Seriously, though, what is going on here?  A copycat wanting attention?  Or something more sinister?

The Best De-Fence

The saga of the bearded emperor tamarins at the Dallas Zoo may have had a happy ending, but the mysterious crimes that have plagued the zoo aren't necessarily over yet.  Overshadowed by these events has been the theft of a dozen squirrel monkeys from Zoosiana, the Acadiana Zoo in Louisiana.  The crimes do not appear to be connected, nor are these the first animal thefts at zoos (with primates being popular targets).  Still, it has led many zoos to decide that it's as good a time as any other to review security.

Historically, many US zoos were free public attractions that developed organically from city parks.  They consisted of a few cages or dens scattered about for anyone to come and see, and often they were not enclosed in any formal fence or boundary.  That, of course, left the animals exposed to threats at night - both animal, in the form of packs of stray dogs and other predators, as well as human vandals.  Losses at some facilities could be quite high, but there was widespread resistance in many cities against letting zoos put up fences.  With a fence, a zoo could control the flow of people coming in and out, and among other things, that would lead to the increased likelihood that the zoo might start charging admission.  Not surprisingly, many zoos saw those two factors - the gate and the gate fee - go hand in hand.

Even the increasingly small number of free zoos, however, are generally fenced in today.  It's just too risky and irresponsible not to be.  Not only does it keep intruders out, but it also serves as an additional form of confinement in the event of an animal escape.  For that later reason, it's considered best policy not to have any animal enclosures built into the perimeter fence, lest damage to one allows animals to escape from the zoo.  Ideally, the fence will be clean and accessible for the duration of its length, allowing staff to frequently inspect it and walk the perimeter.

Guards are another import security measure - usually human, though one zoo I worked at had a large and amazingly ineffective guard dog (I remember driving home late one night and seeing the dog a mile from the zoo it was ostensibly supposed to guard, playing in the middle of a street).  Guards should regularly patrol the grounds and watch for intruders; some facilities also employee designated night keepers to provide care for the animals after dark, such as neonates who might need a late night bottle, or pregnant animals on maternity watch.  A heavier night presence can be maintained in the event of emergencies - for example, if you're expecting a bad storm, some staff may stay late to monitor for falling trees which could damage fences.

Then, there are all the high tech gadgets - all of those cameras and sensors and monitors.  These are great devices that can allow staff to keep an eye on the facility and its animals, even from home.  Not only can they look out for intruders or fires, but they can monitor abiotic environmental factors, such as temperature for cold-sensitive animals or oxygen levels for aquatic systems and sound emergency alarms to notify staff in the case of equipment failure.

Of course, Dallas Zoo had all of these defenses in place - guards and fences and cameras - and they're still having problems with their mysterious enemy.  Which just goes to show that there's no defense system that is 100% effective against malice.