From the News: Rare Sumatran rhino born in Indonesia

Rare Sumatran rhino born in Indonesia

One of the most exciting moments I've had as a zoo visitor (not in my directly professional capacity) came on a rainy day in October 2014, when I had the chance to meet Harapan, the last Sumatran rhinoceros outside of Indonesia, at the Cincinnati Zoo.  This meeting was especially exciting for me because, it turned out, Harapan was due to return to Indonesia soon to join the last remaining members of his species (including his siblings, also born at Cincinnati) in a captive-breeding program that would, hopefully, help save the rapidly-declining species from extinction.  

And that move has just born fruit.  Orange, hairy, 25 kilograms worth of fruit.

One birth does not reverse a trend, and the world's rarest rhino is still in dire straits.  It's a first for this particular male, who's brother has already sired a calf in Indonesia.  Still, when an animal is this close to the edge of extinction, it feels like every single birth is an act of defiance, fighting back and refusing to accept the loss as inevitable.  

Planning Around Animals

I was on my way to a meeting today.

There's nothing that unusual about that - I feel like I spend more of my time in meetings than I do anything tangentially animal related.  I think that I actually calculated that, based on the amount of time I spend in them, I will probably die in the middle of a staff meeting someday.  

It wasn't going to be this meeting, however.  I was about halfway across the zoo to the meeting place when I got a text saying that it needed to be postponed.  There were some issues with an animal introduction under progress, and my fellow meeting attendees needed to focus on that.

They say, "Man plans, God laughs."  Perhaps.  But the animals laugh louder, I think.  I've come to realize over the years how mind-bogglingly difficult it can be to schedule things around animals.  I find this to be especially stressful, because I really like to have things planned out and scheduled.  My (human) coworkers are pretty unreliable on this front, even when the animals are removed from the equation.  

Still, it can be almost impossible to plan things around the animals themselves.  This includes things that are rather difficult to reschedule, such as transports and medical procedures.  Against such uncertainty, what chance does a run of the mill staff meeting have?  I've had meetings that have had to have been rescheduled four or five times before they actually happen.

There's a lot of wonderful things about life in the zoo.  Reliability is, alas, seldom one of those.  Punctuality and predictability aren't either.

On the Trail of the Snail

I first learned about the Partula snails (there are many species, but only one, the Polynesian tree snail, is kept in the US, so it's usually just referred to as the Partula snail) long before I saw one.  I was browsing my campus bookstore back in college (those being the days when college bookstores sold books), when I came across a book on zoos, one that would soon become one of my favorites ever. Dr. Jeff Bonner’s Sailingwith Noah was full of fascinating anecdotes from the world of zoos, some of which were old news to me, some were brand new.  This was a brand new one/

Dr. Bonner devoted a chapter of his book to the story of the snails, which I thought was one of the most interesting and compelling conservation stories I’d heard.  So interested was I in the snails that, more than once over the course of my career, I looked into getting the snails to exhibit at zoos that I worked at.  I would have loved to also have obtained some of the African giant land snails as well for education animals, but that was a no-go with the permitting authorities, so I’ve never seen one of those giants.  Ultimately, I found enthusiasm for working with snails to be somewhat... limited among many of my colleagues and institutional leadership, so none of these projects ever went anywhere.

Despite my interest in the snails, however, it took me a long time to actually see one.  Only a half-dozen US zoos have them and, pretty though they may be, they aren’t the easiest animals to create a visually appealing exhibit for.  Usually, they are  housed on paper towels in little plastic totes.  Easily overlooked in a zoo setting, just as they were in the wild.

I finally got my chance just l recently when I visited the Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle.  There wasn’t as much time to explore the zoo as I would have liked, and I was very eager to see the snails.  I spent too much time going in circles around the small insect house, convinced that’s where I would find them, before I realized that they were actually in a separate building just down the path.  There, in the Tree Snail Laboratory display, I saw my first Partula snails.  

Some were sticking to the front of the glass viewing window, which Dr. Bonner assures his readers is the sign of a happy snail.  I was happy to be able to get a picture and appreciate them – they were beautiful, though even tinier than I expected, about the size of a pea.  Woodland Park is a gorgeous zoo of incredible exhibits, that I'll write about in turn, but of all of the animals and exhibits there, few made me as happy as those little snails stuck to the front of their window.

Species Fact Profile: Polynesian Tree Snail (Partula nodosa)

                                                                   Polynesian Tree Snail

                                                       Partula nodosa (Pfeiffer, 1851)

Range: Tahiti, French Polynesia (formerly: now extinct in the wild)

Habitat:  Forested slopes and valleys of volcanic islands

Diet: Decaying Plant Matter

Social Grouping:  Asocial

Reproduction: Cross-fertilizing hermaphrodites (self-fertilization rarely occurs).  Courtship consists of slowly approaching each other and making appropriate gestures, after which both animals will leave pregnant.  Give birth to live young, about 1-2 millimeters, growing to adulthood at 3-6 months of age.  Four life stages, largely identified by size – newborn, juvenile, sub-adult, and adult

Lifespan: 5-6 Years

      Conservation Status: IUCN Extinct in the Wild

• Partulid snails range from 1-2.5 centimeters in length.  Shells are spirals of grey, brown, white
• Primarily feeds at night. Daytime hours spent sticking to underside of leaves in shade to prevent drying out
• Has also been listed as a subspecies of Partula affinis (Partula affinis nodosa), but generally recognized as a separate species
• Historically there was some use of the shells in necklace making, but little significant trade
• Primary cause of decline is predation from the introduced carnivorous snail Euglandina rosea (rosy wolf snail) in 1977, which was in turn introduced to the islands to control the also-invasive giant African land snail (Lissacatina fulica), which was introduced as a human food source in 1967 but quickly became an agricultural pest.  Between the 1970s and 1990s, approximately two-thirds of the Partula snails were driven to extinction.  Today 56 of the 72 species are extinct, with an additional 10 only surviving in captivity. 26 surviving snails were collected from wild, sent to Detroit Zoo for nexus of captive breeding program
• Reintroduction efforts began in 2016 and were in place prior to the COVID pandemic, then placed on hold – hope to restart in the near future.  Reintroduction consists of erecting predator-proof barriers, removing invasive snails, and gradually expanding the safe zone
• The genus Partula has been used to study adaptive radiation in islands, similar to Darwin’s finches in the Galapagos Islands.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving!  As with every year, a big "Thank you" to the keeper and other professionals who were out at work today, some of them far from home and family.  Under the best of circumstances, your coworkers become your second family, and I've had many enjoyable holiday meals far from home with my colleagues... but it can often be tough to be so far removed from what, for many people, is a day defined by family.  Your hard work and sacrifice is appreciated by everyone (even the animals, even if they don't always show it!)

You Can't Spell Gratitude without Rat

It's a repost, but it's one of my favorite Thanksgiving videos so why not?  Enjoy these pouched rats sitting down to their miniature Thanksgiving feast at the Point Defiance Zoo & Aquarium!

So Furry a Fish

Fish and aquatic invertebrates may form the bulk of an aquarium's collection, but the stars are usually the small number of air-breathing animals.  Sea turtles are immensely popular with the public, and many aquariums have penguins, but mammals, as always, are the ultimate crowd pleasers.  Marine mammals, such as seals, sea lions, and dolphins, are enormous draws - but they also come with a lot of expenses, permits, regulatory oversight, and, in the case of the later, controversy.

Probably not the surprising, then, that many smaller aquariums, as well as nature centers, feature the North American river otter as their star attraction.

NAROs, as they are often referred to in the zoo community, have a lot going for them as exhibit animals.  They are widely recognizable (at least as otters - I've heard a distressing number of visitors call them sea otters), found across virtually all of North America (so wherever your facility is, they can be displayed as a local native species), and are easily obtained, either from other facilities, from rehabbers, or, in some cases, from trappers.  Though aquatic, they are *not* marine mammals, so the legal and regulatory business of keeping them is far simpler than it is for, say, sea otters.  They are engaging, active, charismatic, and absolutely beloved by the public.

The downside of this, unfortunately, they show up in circumstances that they shouldn't be.

I wasn't dazzled by Oklahoma Aquarium's otter exhibit, but it wasn't the worst I've seen, and has been regrettably in keeping with some nature/science museum otter displays I've seen.  Indoors, hardscaped (lacking in softer natural elements, and with a reduced land area, the primary focus being on a pool with underwater viewing to provide up-close views with guests and otters.

River otters are one of those species that, with basic care, will "do ok" in zoos - they'll live long lives, be healthy, eat the diet, reproduce with some regularity - but "doing ok"  should be our baseline, not our end goal.  In order to thrive, otters need a habitat that is large enough and complex enough to engage in a variety of natural behaviors - not just swimming.  A big part of that, I feel, is the provision of a suitably large and suitably diverse land area - I've seen otters dig in the dirt, roll around in leaf litter, and even climb trees.  Being outdoors gives them exposure to a variety of stimuli, from the changing temperatures and light patterns to rainfall and snow to chance encounters with native wildlife, such as birds flying overhead or into the enclosure.

A lot of this is true for all animals - the benefit obtained from more complex, diverse habitats is obvious to many species.  It just seems to be that river otters, victims of their own popularity, perhaps, are one species that often seems to get the short end of the stick. 

Zoo Review: Oklahoma Aquarium, Part II

Continuing the tour of the Oklahoma Aquarium, we now come to the galleries dedicated to Oklahoma's aquatic life.

Oklahoma is - as signage in the aquarium frequently reminds us - a landlocked state.  Even so, it possesses an enormous and impressive array of freshwater life, including fish, reptiles, and amphibians.  One species which many folks may be surprised to see is the American alligator - the species has a toehold in eastern Oklahoma, making it the northwest limit of the range.  The exhibit here features smaller specimens.  Much larger and more visually impressive is the colossal alligator snapping turtle.  Signage claims that the individual on display here is actually older than the state itself (Oklahoma gained statehood in 1907).  There are also exhibits of smaller native herps, including banded watersnakes, which the aquarium hopes will encourage visitors to learn the difference between this (harmless) species and the venomous cottonmouth, which it is frequently confused with.  

In a unique exhibit/interactive features, there is a large pool of mixed-species smaller freshwater turtles, which visitors can have the option to help keepers feed.

The rivers and lakes of Oklahoma also hold a variety of fish, including some truly gigantic species.  I'm not a fish-person per se, but I always enjoy seeing those two prehistoric-looking freshwater monsters, the alligator gar and the American paddlefish.  The species that interested me the most in this section, however, was the gargantuan blue catfish.  Actually, it wasn't even so much the catfish that caught my interest as it was the sign on the exhibit, which described the practice of noodling.  Noodling consists of shoving your bare arm in a catfish hole, waiting for the catfish to bite onto it, and then yanking it out - attached to your arm, of course.  From the size of the individual shown here, I wasn't entirely sure that the average fisherman would be able to pull that fish out for dinner - more like vice versa.

I was considerably less impressed with the Ozark Stream, a trio of mammal exhibits that featured beaver, raccoon, and North American river otter.  They all struck me as fairly small and lacking in complexity.  On one hand, I've seldom gotten as good of a view of a beaver - either on land or swimming at the underwater viewing window - as I've gotten here.  On the other... where else would it have gone?  The otter exhibit was somewhat unusual, consisting of a tall cylindrical tank that the otters would dive into the top of, spin around, and then jump out.  It felt like they were mostly doing it for lack of options to go anywhere else.  The aquarium has a large lawn outside by the playground, sloping down towards the river.  It would be nice to see some of that space used to create larger, more naturalistic outdoor habitats for these species.  Maybe they could even add additional habitats, such as an outdoor exhibit to facilitate housing larger alligators, or an aviary for waterfowl and other aquatic birds of Oklahoma.

Towards the back of the building is the aquarium's signature exhibit, and a deviation back away from the Oklahoma theme, Shark Adventure. The exhibit consists of a walk-through tunnel curving through a habitat of rarely-seen bull sharks.  Famed both for their aggression and for their tolerance of freshwater, which allows them to pop up in some unexpected habitats, bull sharks aren't seen often in aquariums - I've only seen them before at Dallas World Aquarium, and I believe those individuals are now here in Jenks.  One thing that struck me as a little odd about the bull shark tank was how barren it seemed - signage stated that the aquarium wanted the tank to be easy to clean to minimize the amount of time divers had to spend in the water with the potentially dangerous species.  I'm not sure how beneficial a complex tank is to bull sharks - which swim continuously - one way or the other.  It felt a little lacking compared to most large shark tanks I've seen, but most of those exhibits at other aquariums have also housed other fish besides the sharks, so was the complexity there really meant for the other species, to give them places to feel secure?  I don't know.  The bull sharks did share their tank with nurse sharks, which do spend more time resting at the bottom of the tank.

Smaller, more tractable bamboo sharks, as well as rays, can be found in a touch tank nearby.

I overall enjoyed Oklahoma Aquarium, appreciating its unique exhibits and collection, good signage, and charming atmosphere.  My main quibble (which I won't call an unsubstantial one) is aimed at the trio of mammal exhibits, which I firmly believe could be done better (or, if outdoor exhibits aren't possible for some reason, perhaps consolidate into one large otter exhibit).  The aquarium is not currently a member of AZA; along with SeaLife Mall of America in Minnesota, it's the largest aquarium I've been to that isn't a member.  I hope that they do consider joining up at some point (after addressing the mammal exhibits).  I feel AZA could benefit from having additional facilities to work with, while the aquarium could benefit from having more resources and expertise to draw from.  That said, it was still an impressive facility, and I'm glad that I stopped by on that stormy evening.

Zoo Review: Oklahoma Aquarium, Part I

Located in Jenks, a suburb to the south of Tulsa, the Oklahoma Aquarium stands on a hillside overlooking the Arkansas River.  The facility focuses primarily (but not exclusively) on the aquatic animals and habitats of the Sooner State.  It isn't an especially enormous collection - think of something a little larger than your typical SeaLife Aquarium - but is a fairly diverse and interesting array of species in (mostly) fairly nice habitats.

Although it only opened in 2003, I felt an almost nostalgic vibe as soon as I entered the aquarium's lobby (having first walked past several large and attractive sculptures of aquatic animals outside).  Perhaps because it was a fairly dark and stormy afternoon, the inside felt very cozy and cheerful, dominated by an enormous, old-timey carousel and with a small café and gift shop nearby; it reminded me of a shopping mall from my childhood.  Doors on the opposite side of the lobby led out to a playground overlooking the river, while all of the animal habitats were situated in a series of galleries to the righthand side (one thing I immediately enjoyed about the Oklahoma Aquarium was the layout - too many aquariums I've been to lately are tight, one-way corridors of exhibits, and I feel like I'm on a conveyer belt being pushed through.  It's hard to double back to see animals you might want to take a second look at or might have missed.  Maybe i's just because the facility was fairly empty, but I felt very free to meander and backtrack).

One of the first displays that many visitors will see is the Amazing Invertebrates gallery, which is a combination of small tanks featuring starfish, coral, and other marine invertebrates, as well as a touch tank with horseshoe crabs and other touchable species.  An interesting feature of this area is a large recreation of a shrimp boat, seemingly washed up on a shore with its interior partially flooded, filled with Ecuadorian white shrimp.  It's certainly one of the more unique invertebrate exhibits I've seen in an aquarium, especially for a species that many aquariums don't highlight.  Another positive feature of this facility that I'll give a shout out to while I'm here - the signage is uncommonly good for an aquarium, institutes which, as a whole, tend to be pretty bad at labeling their animals.  I really don't know fish or invertebrates nearly as well as I do other animals, so I appreciate being able to actually know what I'm looking at.  Just down the hall is an exhibit for the most popular of all aquarium invertebrates, the giant Pacific octopus.  The exhibit was a strange-looking one - I was definitely getting some sort of steampunk/Jules Verne vibe from it, but I think that's the point.  At any rate, it seemed large and complex enough for this intelligent, inquisitive species.

The octopus exhibit is a bridge to the next exhibit area, Marvels and Mysteries, which is basically a catch-all of various popular, interesting aquarium species, both freshwater and marine.  Among these are archerfish, renown for their ability to knock bugs off of overhanging leaves by squirting water from their mouths, seahorses, red-bellied piranhas, and an electric eel.  There's also a small collection of poison dart frogs.  Another touch tank in this area gives visitors the chance to touch moon jellies.

It's a rare aquarium, I feel, that doesn't have an Amazon exhibit, so I wasn't surprised to see one here.  Compared to many facilities, this one was fairly modest - a single large tank, lacking some of the larger and more charismatic Amazon species, such as arapaima, but featuring others, such as ripsaw catfish and silver arowana.  For many visitors, the green iguanas lounging in the branches over the water will be the main attraction - except for the kids.  For them, the main attraction will be the little tunnel that they can use to crawl through the tank and gain an extra up-close perspective of the fish.

The tropical oceans of the world are represented in two side-by-side habitats.  Polynesian Reef features dozens of species of tropical fish congregating around a sunken ship.  There are assorted butterflyfish, parrotfish, triggerfish, wrasses, and tangs swirling around the wreck, but the main draw will be the green moray eel, often seen peering out from crevices with an eerie gap.   Zebra sharks are another large, recognizable species of the exhibit.  Theming is enhanced with murals, palm trees, and a series of large island carvings, which give the exhibit a tropical feel. 

Next door is Sea Turtle Island, dominated by a massive loggerhead turtle.  The turtle is joined by small sharks (bonnetheads and leopard sharks), as well as an assortment of other tropical fish.  The animals can be seen either through underwater viewing or from the top of the tank on a viewing deck themed like a Caribbean beach.  As with many of the exhibits, there are feeding demonstrations scheduled through the week.

On our next post, we'll visit the rest of the Oklahoma Aquarium, primarily focusing on the facility's collection of native species.

Oklahoma Aquarium

Pandas On the Way?

Well, that certainly didn't take long...

Barely a week after the departure of the National Zoo's giant pandas, President Joe Biden sat down to a meeting with his Chinese counterpart, Xi Jinping.  The two discussed many topics, and with so much at stake on the global stage perhaps it is surprising that zoo exhibits managed to finagle their way into the high-level talks.

“I was told that many American people, especially children, were really reluctant to say goodbye to the pandas, and went to the zoo to see them off,” President Xi told reporters. “I also learned that the San Diego Zoo and the Californians very much look forward to welcoming pandas back.” 

And, just like that, the leader of the the People's Republic of China offhandedly remarked that pandas should be coming back to the United States sometime in the near future.  Granted, that's not an iron-clad agreement right there, but it certainly is good news for panda aficionados across the country.

It's interesting that, despite the sometimes hostile relations between the two countries, with increasingly harsh rhetoric, the Chinese are still interested is sending out pandas.  But sometimes soft power is the best power... especially when it's not only very soft, but black and white.

Alejandro Martinez Velez / Europa Press via Getty Images file

Species Fact Profile: California Sheephead (Semicossyphus pulcher)

                                                              California Sheephead

                                                       Semicossyphus pulcher (Ayres, 1854)

Range: Eastern Pacific, from central California to Central Mexico

Habitat:  Rocky Reefs and Kelp Beds, 6-30 meters deep

Diet: Sea Urchins, Mollusks, Crustaceans

Social Grouping:  Overlapping home ranges, may forage alone or in schools

Reproduction: Male maintains and defends a harem of females.  Eggs and sperm released into water column.  Fertilized eggs are released into the water.  Female may spawn 80 times per year and can produce nearly 300,000 eggs per breeding season.  Young start their lives as plankton.  Protogynous hermaphrodites - all individuals of the species start their lives as females, then the larger fish change into males when they grow to about 45 centimeters long (transition is caused by hormonal changes caused by social cues)

Lifespan: 20 Years (can leave over 50 Years)

      Conservation Status: IUCN Vulnerable

• Grow up to 90 centimeters long and can weigh up to 16 kilograms.  Males are larger than females
• Males are black on the head and tail with a wide reddish-orange midsection, red eyes.  The forehead has a prominent fleshy bump.  Females are silver or dull pink, white on the underside.  Both sexes have white chins and large, protruding teeth.  Juveniles are reddish-orange all over
• Frequent daily movements between refugia, such as kelp forests and reefs, and open waters, which provide better feeding and breeding opportunities but which leave the fish more vulnerable to predators.  Males may become more aggressive and territorial towards one another throughout the day as they approach their preferred spawning time at sunset
• Large canine teeth are used to pry invertebrates from rocks, while a plate in the throat crushes shells, separated meat from shell
• If seized and injured by a predator, a sheephead will release chemicals into the water that alert other sheepheads that a predator is near
• Most significant predators are California sea lion and harbor seal, as well as larger fish, such as giant sea bass.  Smaller individuals may be preyed upon by seabirds
• Commercial fishery has been open since the late 1800s, still sought commercially and popular with sports fishers.  The life cycle of this fish is challenged due to the minimum size limits set by authorities; since males are larger than females, a skewed sex ratio has resulted with fewer males (removal of the larger males then triggers the largest females to transition, depriving the population of their eggs)
• Economically and ecologically valuable for their role in controlling numbers of sea urchins, which would otherwise overgraze kelp forests and deprive other species of their habitat

What to Expect When Your (Babirusa's) Expecting

I was enjoying this footage from the San Antonio Zoo of Sula, their female babirusa, getting an ultrasound.  I've been spending a lot of time lately going through old records for a project, and sometimes I've found myself wondering what the directors. curators, and keepers of those days would think about where we are now as a field.  

Doing ultrasounds on animals is one thing that they probably wouldn't have imagined - but also doing them voluntarily, while the animal is awake and casually having a snack?  That would have been unthinkable.  So would the idea of sharing it on social media (or, in their days, the newspapers), in many cases.  So many pregnancies miscarried, or neonates died shortly after birth, that it would have seemed foolish and risky to share the news before it was settled.  Now, there is a lot more openness about births and deaths - let people celebrate the good news with us, mourn the bad news with us.

And all that, of course, invites the question of what we'll be able to do in another thirty or forty or fifty years - what sorts of accomplishments, what new technologies, what new philosophies that shape animal care for the years to come.

Satire: The New Yorker

 

Filling the Pandas' Shoes

It's difficult for me to wrap my head around the concept of a National Zoo without the giant pandas.  One of the ongoing discussions I've heard people have about the move is, "What's next?"  For half a century, pandas were the stars of the zoo, to say nothing of the anchor of the Asia Trail complex.  The void that the bears leave behind them isn't just emotional - it's very much physical as well.  What will the zoo do now that they are gone?

The ideal answer in their eyes would be, "Get more pandas."  Still, with Sino-American relations being what they are at the moment, that might be a while coming.  So it would be time to dust of Plan B... and maybe take a quick look at C and D as well.  And maybe E.

Historically, this might not have been as big of a problem.  Zoo exhibits up until the later part of the twentieth century used to be fairly standard issue - a floor of concrete or tiles or hard-packed dirt, and some bars.  There would be some variations in size and shape.  Some cages would be roofed, to keep animals that were good climbers or jumpers in, some might have a pool, but most were pretty similar.  Animals came from the wild then, often of uncertain health to begin with, and our understanding of exotic animal husbandry was fairly rudimentary.  There was a lot of turnover, so to speak, so a cage might hold very different animals from one year to the next.  Maybe it would have a lion one year, than a chimp after the lion passed on, and then maybe a porcupine or something.  

Today, exhibits are often tailor-made with specific species in mind.  It's often not enough to design an enclosure for a big cat - an exhibit made especially for a cheetah is going to look differently than one planned for a jaguar.  The jaguars would benefit from having a pool and more climbing structures, whereas the cheetahs would do best with more open space to promote their having a good view of surrounding areas, as well as space to run a lure.  That makes it a fair bit trickier to swap species.  Suppose that the National Zoo decided that it wanted to move its tigers into the panda exhibit of Asia Trail - or maybe bring in snow leopards.  Unlike pandas, those species are excellent jumpers, and snow leopards are great climbers.  An exhibit designed to house pandas - with minimal barriers to promote viewing of the pandas - wouldn't hold those species.  A snow leopard could clear the moat and escape.  And since the zoo is hoping to have pandas again at some point, there's a limit to how much modification they'd want to make to the exhibit to accommodate a temporary occupant.

It's also not just a question of the exhibit working - there's also the back-of-house aspect.  The outdoor exhibit might work well for Asian hoofstock, especially something that likes rocky, hilly terrain, such as takin or markhor.  The indoor holding spaces, however, aren't stalls for hoofed mammals, they are dens for carnivores, and would be inappropriate and poorly-suited to those species.  Again, the zoo would have to decide how much modification they'd want to make if they were to put in a different species, especially if the goal is to go back to pandas some day.

There's also theming in zoo exhibits these days, which wasn't necessarily a thing a few decades ago.  The panda exhibit is in Asia Trail.  The species that occupies it should, theoretically, be Asian.  If the zoo wanted to add, say, American black bears to the exhibit, it wouldn't work out for that reason.

Zoos do, of course, lose species, and often times they will plug in a different species instead of tearing down and rebuilding.   As polar bears have become less available in recent years, many zoos have switched over to keeping brown bears in those exhibits, simply lowering the pools (though Philadelphia turned their polar bear exhibit over to penguins, while Indianapolis turned their exhibit into one for macaques).  Likewise, as many zoos have shifted away from keeping elephants, rhinos have been a popular replacement (white or black for the African elephants, Indian to replace the Asian).   There's still some modifications that always need to be made, but it's at least manageable. 

As to what the National Zoo will do to fill the space left the pandas?  I'm very curious to see.

End of a Black-and-White Era

Well, today is the day.  The crates are being loaded and the plane is taking off for China.  For the first time in fifty years (excepting one gap year following the death of Hsing Hsing), the Smithsonian National Zoo will have no giant pandas.  Nor are there immediate plans for additional black-and-white bears to be shipped over from China, though that does seem to be the zoo's intention.  By sunset, the only giant pandas left in the US will be those at Zoo Atlanta - and they'll be heading back next year.  We've gone from a peak of four US zoos with pandas when I was entering the field out of college to none.

Now, there are plenty of folks who won't be sad to see the bears go.  Giant pandas have always stirred up complicated feelings among members of the zoo community.  They take up a lot of money and staff resources that could go to other species, some of which are in much greater need of conservation.  Instead of the lion's share, perhaps it would be fair to talk about the panda's share.  That price tag that they command - a million dollars a year per panda - also raises some moral qualms with folks, as there are people who, justifiably, are wary of sending money into the pockets of the PRC, what with it's  history of human rights abuses and environmental practices.

I've seen pandas at all four of the recent holding facilities in the US, including two that no longer house them.  I was okay with San Diego not having pandas anymore - they certainly have enough going on there.  Same with Memphis (I bet they don't miss that circus) and Atlanta.  There's plenty of other species that they can work with.  But National... that one hits me a little different.  It's the history and legacy there that speaks to me - pandas are practically icons of not just the zoo, but the city itself.  Presidents come and go, I thought, but pandas were forever.  But it seems they aren't.

I count myself very lucky that I've had the chance to see the giant pandas at the National Zoo so many times.  The zoo will still be an incredible place full of incredible animals, some of which honestly interest me a lot more than a sleepy black-and-white bear.  Still... it's going to just feel a little empty without them.

In the Name of the Bird

I've always loved the idea of using zoo exhibits as a medium for storytelling.  I've also loved obscure geography and history.  Years ago, I cooked up a speculative exhibit design in my head that combined those interests with an exhibit I called Bering's Crossing.  Centered on the wildlife of the Bering Strait between Alaska and Russia, it would have depicted the wildlife of that region, told through the story of the 1741 expedition led by Vitus Bering, a Dane in the service of the Tsar.  It would have featured Steller's sea eagles, Steller's sea lions, Steller's jay, and Steller's eiders... with a (heated, indoor) aquarium for manatees, which would serve as a stand-in for the now-extinct Steller's sea cow.  

Do you sense a pattern here?

All of these species were named after Georg Steller, Bering's German naturalist, who is also credited with being the first European to describe the sea otter, which also would have been included in this complex.

Several of those species - at least the feathered ones, however - are up for a rename.

After being debated for many years, the American Ornithological Society has announced that it will be renaming birds named after humans.  (I'd discussed it over a year ago, but now it looks like it's moving forward).  This is for a few reasons.  For one thing, it will be more descriptive to name the birds after some feature related to them, such as a physical attribute, a habitat, or a geographical range, than after some person who, on one hand, might have discovered them, or, on the other, might never have heard of them and been given the name as an honor by someone else.  It might make birding more accessible to younger, more diverse generations.  

And it tiptoes around the fact that some of the people who have birds named after them were, in all truth, pretty awful human beings.  James Sligo Jameson, for example - for whom some African birds are named - reportedly bought a little girl in the Congo and offered her up to a tribe of (what he at least believed to be) cannibals so he could observe the ritual of her being cooked and eaten.

Yes, not every person - or even a sizeable fraction - of the people who got birds named after them was a raving psycopath, but still... perhaps it was easier to do a blanket statement than it was to sift the sheep from the goats.

There is plenty of precedent for changing bird names that people think of as problematic.  A particularly gorgeous seaduck went by the offensive name "oldsquaw" for centuries, before recently being rechristened as the long-tailed duck.  And yes, it does have a long tail.  The Hottentot teal is now being referred to as the blue-billed teal.  Not as big of a fan of that one, to be honest - I'm cool with the name being changed from what the Khoekhoe consider an offensive term, but there's already a blue-billed duck... and several other teal species also have blue bills.  Kalahari teal?  Okavango teal?  Just saying, we had other options.

And, yes, while I'm cool with about 99% percent of the names being changed, there are a few that I'm going to miss and have a hard time letting go.  Darwin's rhea, for example - not only named after the famed British naturalist who played a role in the species history, but also so much better than the other common name for the species, "lesser" rhea.  

And, of course, anything pertaining to Steller.  That name, to me, is just too evocative of a landscape, both in time and place.  I remember the first time I saw a Steller's jay, perched in a pine tree in California's Big Sur, with the waves of the Pacific crashing on the rocks in the background.  As soon as the name of the species popped into my head, I found myself thinking of wrecked boats smashed up on ice-covered rocks, with sea birds whirling overhead and previously unknown marine mammals breaking the surface of the waves.

But, times change... and now, so do some bird names.

Species Fact Profile: Asian Yellow-Spotted Toad (Rentapia hosii)

                                                             Asian Yellow-Spotted Toad

                                                       Rentapia hosii (Boulenger, 1892)

Range: Southeast Asia, Indonesia

Habitat:  Lowland Rainforests, close to water

Diet: Insects (Especially Ants)

Social Grouping:  Solitary

Reproduction: Reproduction has not been observed in wild, though breeding aggregations of adults have been observed.  Large quantities (thousands) of eggs laid underwater in strings attached to aquatic plants, hatch into small tadpoles, based on captive observations

Lifespan: 10 Years (Estimate)

      Conservation Status: IUCN Least Concern

• 5-11 centimeters long, females larger than males (the smallest females are generally larger than the largest males).  Fingers are long and end in adhesive pads.  Skin is smooth and soft
• Sexually dimorphic.  Males are brown or black.  Females are pale green in color, covered with a series of small yellow spots.  Paler on undersides and throat. Juveniles are dark brown with some yellow banding on the legs
• One of the world's only true arboreal toad species.  Believed to primarily forage on the forest floor (supported by observations in captivity)
• Populations decreasing, appear to be intolerant of habitat disturbance and unable to adapt to disturbed habitat.  Not especially common on the pet trade, with females being selected for more due to their more attractive appearance.

Keep in Clean, Folks

The end of every holiday season results in a massive clean out, and Halloween is no exception.  Among the tons of candy wrappers and other debris are the rapidly-deteriorating pumpkins that served as Jack O' Lanterns and other holiday décor.  It's tempting to just huck those bad boys in the wood and let them decompose, or feed wild animals such as birds - and you can!  (You can even hang hollowed-out pumpkins as birdfeeders, letting the birds enjoy the nutritious seeds inside).

Photo Credit: Birds & Blooms Magazine

But just as a little PSA, before you do that, make sure that they are untreated, unpainted, and don't have anything *other* than pumpkin in them, such as plastic or metal decorations.  It's always sad when an act of intended kindness, such as feeding animals, ends up harming them in one way or another.  Be safe, and help the wildlife be safe as well!

Leave Room for November

November first is the close of the Halloween season, and, despite some backlash, seems to have become the unofficial start of the Christmas season.  There is, of course, one major American holiday sandwiched in between the two (turkey sandwiched, perhaps?) but for some reason, Thanksgiving seldom seems to capture the public imagination and attention like Halloween and Christmas do.

This is also true at the zoos, which almost always have Halloween events, and often Christmas events.  But when was the last time you heard of a Thanksgiving event at the zoo?

The options seem limitless!  Thanksgiving, of course, is a holiday centered around a meal, so why not educate visitors about all of the work that goes into preparing meals for the zoo animals, not once a year, but every day, and with diners who possess a wide variety of preferences and restrictions (and you thought it was rough with your one vegan cousin and your brother-in-law with the nut allergy).

Thanksgiving is also about being thankful, so it provides a chance to express things that we, as keepers and other zoo staff, are grateful for - such as a conservation success story, or even just the opportunity to share our days with incredible animals.

The romanticized, kindergarten version of Thanksgiving is a happy-celebration of the Pilgrims and their early interactions with the Native Americans of the Plymouth Rock area (you know, glossing over the smallpox, land theft, genocide, and all of that other less-celebratory stuff).  Especially for zoos in New England and the Northeast, Thanksgiving is an opportunity to reflect and highlight native cultures, especially how they interacted with local species.  In my mostly-successful quest in college to turn ever essay I was assigned into an animal-themed one, I wrote a paper on cultural traditions centered around American black bears among the native peoples of New York State for my anthropology class.  That's some stuff that would make for a great exhibit or education presentation.

Keeping visitors engaged with our facilities and animals requires the constant introduction of new ideas, events, experiences, and content.  Which makes it all the more surprising that we've largely ignored one of the most universal experiences in American culture - the Thanksgiving holiday - and run straight from the trick or treating into the arms of the big guy in the red suit.  Let's savor November as well before plunging into December.