Take it to the (Crocodile) Bank

As a young reptile lover (and especially one who was crazy about crocodiles), I was pretty spoiled as a kid.  I lived not that far from one of the only zoos in the country to exhibit gharial.  It wasn't the most exciting of exhibits, nor was it the most spectacular of specimens - it was a lone female, so she lacked the impressive, bulbous ghara that stood out to me so much in all of my books - but it was certainly better than nothing.  When I finally did see a big male in all of its glory at the San Diego Zoo years later, it blew me away.  I'm pretty sure that at this time I've seen gharial in every US zoo that houses them, and I never get tired of seeing them.

The most special gharial memory I have, however, was of the smallest.  I happened to be at the St. Augustine Alligator Farm not that long after they celebrated the hatching of the first gharial born outside of its native South Asia, a feat which so far only a very small number of other zoos have matched.  So where are the gharials in zoos coming from?  Essentially, a gharial ranch.

Founded in 1976, the Madras Crocodile Bank was created to ensure a future for India's three native crocodilian species - the mugger (over 2000 present), the saltwater crocodile, and the gharial.  It has since expanded its mission to include not only other crocodilians from around the world but also other reptiles, and is now also open to the public as a specialized reptile zoo.  It still carries on a lot of important herpetological work, including antivenin production, but one of its main roles is producing crocodilians - including gharial - for reintroduction to the wild.  I think it's fair to say that without the MCB's efforts, this species - doubtlessly the strangest and most unique of the crocodilians - would likely be extinct.

Normally I'd be of the opinion that if an exotic species isn't breeding sustainably in American zoos and aquariums, we should focus our efforts on other species that we can more effectively bolster the numbers of.  Gharials are a species tat I consider an exception.  As challenging as they have been to breed in the US (though hopefully we'll continue to see improved success), Madras is able to produce them in great quantities for the reintroduction efforts.  A few individuals can then be supplied to US facilities without either removing animals from the wild or impacting the reintroduction program. The species is long-lived, and a few gharials sent abroad can live for decades before potentially needing to be replaced.

Having a few gharial at zoos around the world can help boost awareness and fundraising for saving these gentle giants of the crocodile world.  And if a few breed here and there outside of their range country?  Well that's just a bonus.

Species Fact Profile: Indian Gharial (Gavialis gangeticus)

                                                           Indian Gharial (Gavial)

                                           Gavialis gangeticus (Gmelin, 1789)

Range:  India, Nepal, Bangladesh (historically also Pakistan, Bhutan, and Myanmar) 

Habitat: Clear Freshwater Rivers.  Prefer ones with deep water and sandbars

Diet:  Fish.  Juveniles also eat insects, crustaceans, and amphibians

Social Grouping:  Not especially sociable, but habitat preferences tend to cause individuals to congregate in groups of decent size, such as basking on favored sandbars

Reproduction:  Mate in the dry season.  Males court females by buzzing with their gharas and clapping their jaws underwater, then following females and rubbing them with their snouts.  If the female is receptive, she will point her head skyward and ten the male will mount her.  Copulation occurs underwater and may last for 30 minutes.  Females dig nest burrows in sandy riverbanks within a few meters of the water’s edge and guard the nest for the 60-80 day incubation period (warmer areas incubate faster).  Nest holes are about 50 centimeters deep, usually dug at night.   Most females lay 28-60 eggs, very large ones can lay almost 100.  Eggs are 5.5 centimeters wide, 8.6 centimeters long, and weigh 100-156 grams.  Females guard their nest sites from other animals, but are tolerant of other females nesting on the same beach.  Sex of the hatchlings is determined by incubation temperature.

Lifespan: 50-60 Years

      Conservation Status:  IUCN Critically Endangered  CITES Appendix I

• Males can grow 5-6 meters long, records approaching 6.5 meters, while females are usually less than 4 meters.  Weigh 159-181 kilograms – one of the largest crocodilians
• Adults are a dark brown or greenish brown on the dorsal surface, fading to white or pale yellow on the underside.  Juveniles have dark bands on the body and tail that fade with age.  Scales are much smooth than those in other crocodilians
• Most recognizable trait is the snout, which is long and slender, specialized for catching fish.  It grows progressively longer and thinner as the animal ages.  There are approximately 105-110 teeth in the mouth. 
• Males are distinguished from females by having a bulbous growth at the end of their top jaw, called the “ghara,” for which they are named (from a traditional Indian pot).   It helps the male vocalize to females while also serving as a visual cue of his size and fitness, can also help blow bubbles.  The cartilaginous lid on the nostrils produces a loud buzzing noise when flapped.  They are the only living crocodilian that displays such sexual dimorphism
• Gharial are poorly adapted to walking on land and have weak leg muscles; can only drag themselves along the ground.  Their feet are more webbed than those of other crocodilians   
• Young are 18 centimeters long upon hatching.  They are dug from the nest by the female, sometimes with help from the male.  They are not carried in the jaws of the parents like many other crocodilians are (probably because of the snout shape), but are looked after by the female (and at least tolerated by the male), usually until they are dispersed by the monsoon.  Females are sexually mature at 3 meters long (about 8 years), males at 4 meters long (about 15 years), at which time they begin to develop their ghara
• The primary feeding strategy is to float in the water until prey happens to pass them by.  In other cases they may actually hunt for fish, using the sense organs on their scales to detect movement in the water.  Their very thin jaws create little resistance in the water, allowing them to quickly snap shut.  Adults occasionally prey on crustaceans and turtles.  Sare their range with the mugger crocodile (Crocodylys palustris), but avoid competition through use of different prey bases and nesting sites
• Adults have no predators.  Eggs and hatchlings may be vulnerable to jackals, wild boars, mongooses, monitor lizards, and large fish, among other predators
• Species is probably harmless to humans, despite some anecdotal fears of people being attacked.  They are not aggressive, and despite their large size, their narrow jaws and thin teeth make them poorly suited to preying on large mammals.  Some human remains and jewelry have been found in gharial stomachs, but it is believed these are from bodies placed in the river as part of Hindu funeral ceremonies, parts of which may be swallowed by gharials as gasttroliths
• The first crocodilian to be classified as critically endangered.  300-900 mature individuals in the wild.  Numbers increasing, reintroductions underway.  Populations decline drastically between 1997 and 2006 (an estimated loss of 50-60% across their range).  The major threat is loss of habitat, as well as disturbance caused by deforestation, mining, and agricultural on the river banks.  Dam construction floods other suitable nesting sites and makes them unusable.  Overfishing can deplete their prey base.  Individuals are sometimes entangled and drowned by fishing nets
• They are also subject to some poaching pressure – mostly for eggs, but sometimes adult males are poached for their ghara, which are believed to have aphrodisiacal properties, as well as their fat and penises
• More recent threat is gout, believed to be caused by introduced tilapia in the Yamuna River, which may have a toxic impact on gharials
• Depictions of gharials in art date back at least 4000 years in the Indus Valley; Hindus regard it as the vehicle of the river god Ganga      

The Eagle Has Landed (for the last time)

For over twenty years, visitors to Cincinnati Reds games have been treated to the sight of Sam the Eagle, one of the team's  mascots.  Sam's been getting old, however, and has been experiencing decreasing vision quality, so the decision has been made to retire him.  He will spend the rest of his days at his home at the Cincinnati Zoo.

Sam isn't the only zoo animal mascot that has graced a sports stadium.  Until fairly recently, the Baltimore Ravens had their home games visited by Rise and Conquer from the Maryland Zoo, while the Tampa Rays have a ray tank... which is a little weird, because I've never been 100% sure if their name is supposed to refer to rays, the fish, or rays, from the sun - their logos have reflected both over the years.  Heck, in the 1960's, the Miami Dolphins actually had a dolphin on display in their tank, which formed a basis of the movie Ace Ventura: Pet Detective (set decades after the fact).

So far no NFL or MLB team has built a massive exhibit for a big cat or bear mascot at the site of their stadium... but LSU has for their famous tiger, Mike!

There's not much in the way of an obvious real connection between a sports mascot and the actual live animal.  When the opportunity exists, however, it can allow zoos to tap into a pre-existing audience to generate some interest, some enthusiasm, and maybe even some funds for the conservation of an iconic animal.

Perhaps some enterprising athlete in Anaheim would even be up for digging a duck pond outside their stadium?

Book Review: Crocodiles of the World - A Complete Guide to Alligators, Caimans, Crocodiles, and Gharials

In my mind, I differentiate between two kinds of animal books.  There are the fun reads, the narrative nonfiction, which use storytelling to teach the reader about the animals.  There are also the technical books, with charts and graphs, which strive to convey the hard science and facts about the animals.   The later are books I tend not to buy that often, because the knowledge pool is expanding so frequently that they often seem to be out of date shortly after being published, leading me to rely more heavily on online sources.  Still, of these categories of books, I often find that the most valuable additions to my library are the ones that do the best job of blending the two.

Crocodiles of the World: A Complete Guide to Alligators, Caimans, Crocodiles, and Gharials, by Colin Stevens, is such a book.  It leans more heavily towards the technical side than a casual reader might be interested.  This isn't a book to settle in on the couch with after a long day.  It does, however, do an excellent job of condensing a considerable amount of the fascinating biology about crocodiles and their kin into a relatively short (about 270 page) work, beautifully illustrated with many excellent photos and sketches.  There were parts that went into very heavy detail, while other areas of biology and lore were skimmed over more lightly.  Still, it provides a fascinating overview of these incredible animals.

The book is roughly divided into two halves.  The first is a general primer of crocodilian biology.  It starts with their fossil origins (despite how these animals are often portrayed as ancient and timeless, they really are highly evolved animals) to their specialized anatomy to the ways that they move, feed, and breed.  Included, of course, is a few pages of spread dedicated to the question of "What's the difference anyway?" which so many visitors to our zoos ask  us.  This section also provides an overview of how crocodilians are coping in an increasingly human-dominated world.  Spoiler alert: for many species, the answer is "poorly."

The second half consists of profiles of 26 species of crocodilian.  Not surprisingly, treatment here is uneven.  Some species are very well known to science and are given several pages of description and detail.  Others get considerably less attention devoted to them for the very fair reason that so little is known about them, and most of that based on zoo specimens.  Some species Stevens acknowledges, but is forced to lump together; crocodile taxonomy has been in flux in recent years with several new species being carved out of existing ones, and rather than pretending that he's going to write separate entries for two species of African dwarf crocodile, for instance, he places them together, while acknowledging that recent split.  Some of the proposed splits seem to have come after the book was published, or not to be recognized by the author at this time, which again is a challenge that textbooks face - they only capture reality as it is known at the time of their publication.

Books such as this won't be for everyone, and if crocodiles aren't your particular passion, you'd be excused from wanting to burden your shelf with a copy, no matter how great the photos are.  For a reptile keeper, however, who has a particular interest in these animals, it provides an excellent springboard for diving into the world of these incredible animals and building a solid foundation of knowledge of their natural history and conservation/

Crocodiles of the World: A Complete Guide to Alligators, Caimans, Crocodiles, and Gharials at Amazon.com

You Saw a What, Where?

I belong to a few bird ID groups on facebook, most of which are actually quite helpful.  There's also one which is considerably less helpful, but never really pretends to be.  It exists solely to mock the mistakes that people make with bird identification, the more outlandish the mistake, the more they enjoy it.  I saw a good one for them today.

A post I saw on social media claimed to have sighted, with 100% confidence, a "shoebill crane" - in Connecticut.  A shoebill is not a crane, but is closely related to storks and pelicans.  It's a giant, prehistoric-looking bird with an enormous beak shaped like a shoe.  They are extremely rare in zoos, with only two US institutions housing them, neither of them within 1000 miles of Connecticut.  I myself have only seen them two or three times ever, and the last time was nearly a decade ago at a facility that no longer houses them.  

These are not birds like crowned cranes or peafowl that are floating around in the private sector.  The chances of a previously-unknown escaped one hanging around New England strikes me as a vanishingly small.  The only thing less likely in my mind would this be a vagrant from the bird's native Central Africa.

This isn't the first time I've heard someone absolutely swear that they've seen some sort of rare or unusual animal in a place where I am 100% sure they did not.  Tuataras hanging out in backyards in Florida.  Ivory-billed woodpeckers flocking around birdfeeders.  A gorilla or chimpanzee in central Ohio (it turned out to be a fox).  A hyena in Maryland (also a fox).  A score of wolves (seriously, has no one ever seen a fox before?).

I have no idea what this bird actually was - if I had to guess, I'd say a night heron - but there's no pictures to go off.  I do wish folks would familiarize themselves a little more with their native wildlife.  It might make it a bit easier to recognize the animals that come across the backyards.

Wilting Penguins

An old photo of a Danish zookeeper watering the penguins on a hot summer day, 1957 (found at the Facebook page Undiscovered History).

The Secret Wild Horse

Imagine going to the pound looking to adopt a stray dog, and finding, tucked away in one of the kennels, a Mexican gray wolf.  That's about as unlikely as the following scenario would seem to be - but it happened!  

Recently, two horses which appear to be Przewalski's wild horses (pending genetic confirmation, I believe) appeared in a Texas livestock auction.  The horses, since named Shrek and Fiona, have been taken in by a rescue while their fate is determined.  If I had to guess, I'd say that it's likely that they'll wind up in a zoo.  With their uncertain pedigree, I'm not sure how easily they'd be incorporated into the managed breeding population.  That being said, as small as the captive founder population of this species is, I'd almost say it doesn't matter, breed away.  

Photo Credit: Lazy B Equine Rescue and Sanctuary

Figuring out where they will go, however, is a lot more straightforward than figuring out where they came from.  I'd be very interested in figuring out how such a rare animal (if, again, that's what it is) came to be in this situation where it came so close to potentially being slaughtered.

The Keeper Who Came In From the Heat

It was a universal truth that I learned early in my career.  Northern zoos (largely) had buildings.  Southern zoos (largely) didn't.  To stroll across the grounds of a large northern zoo was like walking across a college campus, but instead of the different dorms and labs and lecture halls, the grassy lawns were framed by animal buildings.  These zoos needed to be mindful of the harsh winters that they often faced, which meant that not only did they have to have comfortable indoor winter holding for the animals, but if they wanted visitors to come for more than six months out of the year, they needed indoor viewing opportunities to allow visitors to be warm and comfortable while they saw the animals.  Not surprisingly, the north is where you find the big rainforest buildings in zoos for a handy escape to the tropics.

Southern zoos, in contrast, were able to take advantage of their comfortable climates to keep animals outside year round.  They didn't need to invest in expensive buildings that had a regrettable tendency to get dated quickly.  Instead, they could allow lush growing seasons and sunny weather to create their own exotic paradises.  Some southern zoos are almost 100% outdoors with nary an indoor exhibit.  Even the reptiles at the San Diego Zoo are largely outside, and the reptile house itself is partially open to the elements.  The flipside is that southern zoos are more limited in their ability to house northern species.  Tropical mammals and birds, taken as a whole, seem to adjust better to cooler weather than cold weather species to warm.

The was the equilibrium that seemed to exist.  But what if someone ups the heat?

Despite what some folks will try to say, the weather is getting more extreme, which in many cases has meant hotter, dryer conditions.  Will it get too hot for African, South Asian, and South American animals in North American zoos?  Not likely.  Will it get too hot for visitors to want to come to the zoo in those months?  That's a possibility that I worry about.  I really do worry about our visitors on some of these days, when the temps are in the 90s and they are plodding around stubbornly under the sun, not drinking enough water, maybe not dressed appropriately for the weather.  Furthermore, the animals - even the African ones, which have evolved for conditions such as this - are not inclined to be running around in the sun.  They'll be hunkered in the shade.  Those with access to their indoor holding may opt to use it, sprawling out where it's cooler and darker.

I find myself wondering if we're looking at a future where indoor exhibit buildings are going to look like a better investment for southern zoos.  I don't imagine them building giant rainforest complexes, but smaller indoor spaces for visitors to rest out of the sun and have some animals that they can see before going on the next leg of their simulated slog across the savannah.  Otherwise, I worry that some zoos will end of writing off the summer months of tourism as just being too hot for people to come to the zoo, the implications of which could be dire for the institution's bottom line.

Sporcle Quiz: Sporcle at the Zoo - Tapirs

It's time for the latest entry in the Sporcle at the Zoo series, this time focusing on those fascinating forest ungulates, the tapirs!

Sporcle at the Zoo: Tapirs

The Oscars of Conservation

Actors have the Oscars and Emmys, musicians have Grammys, and the different athletic associations have their respective championships.  There are Nobel Prizes for chemists and physicists, authors and peacemakers.  But where is the recognition for conservationists.  In 2006, the Indianapolis Zoo sought to remedy that lack of appreciation by creating its own prize?

The Indianapolis Prize, as it is somewhat unoriginally called, is a biannual prize offered to reward individuals who have made significant contributions to the conservation of wild animals.  Past recipients include George Archibald of the International Crane Foundation, George Schaller of the Wildlife Conservation Society, and Carl Jones of Durrell Wildlife Conservation Society.  

The Indianapolis Prize has recently been joined by sister awards.  The Jane Alexander Global Wildlife Ambassador Award, which celebrates individuals who have served wildlife through advocacy and public awareness, as opposed to direct conservation work and research.  Recipients have included Sigourney Weaver, whose commitment to the conservation of mountain gorillas was borne out of her starring in the film Gorillas in the Mist and Joel Sartore, the National Geographic photographer who founded the Photo Ark project.  There is also the Emerging Conservation Award, which recognizes naturalists under forty years of age, who have already made an impact on conservation.

No one goes into wildlife conservation in order to win prizes and kudos - there are much better careers choices for that.  Still, it is very important to shine a light on those who are working to make a better world for people and animals.  It helps to show the rest of the world that there is hope for making a difference, and encouraging them to join in the efforts.

Zoo Review: Indianapolis Zoo, Part II

Continuing the tour of the Indianapolis Zoo, we visit the two remaining biomes.

Towering over the heart of the zoo is one of the facility's newest - and most recognizable, and most controversial - exhibits, the Simon Skjodt International Orangutan Center.  Looking more like a megachurch than a conventional zoo exhibit, this facility features a mixed troop of orangutans - Bornean, Sumatran, and hybrid - in an exhibit that, in contrast to the rest of the facility, eschews any attempt to replicate the natural rainforest environment.  The complex instead more closely resembles a research facility, with the emphasis being on the cognitive powers of the apes.  The exhibit is indoors, but the orangutans have access to the outdoors via an overhead trail of cables and towers that circles the building.

At the time of my visit, the IOC was about to be joined by a similar facility for chimpanzees, which has since opened, but which I have not had the chance to see animals in.

The ape facilities are loosely affiliated with the adjacent Forests biome, which features more conventional zoo exhibits.  The trail is anchored by habitats for two large carnivores, Amur tigers and brown bears.  Both are decent, though I'd express a preference for the green, lusher tiger habitat; the bear habitat is of the rocky grotto style that was all the rage when the zoo was built in the 1980s, and could benefit from more natural substrate.  Rounding out this area are habitats for red panda, white-handed gibbons, and bald eagles.  An enclosure of macaws found nearby looks fairly unimpressive, until you realize that this is just a holding pen for them, and the birds are given the opportunity to engage in free flight around the zoo.  

A relatively recent addition  to Forests features habitats for two species of crocodilian, the American alligator and the Orinoco crocodile, both with indoor and outdoor viewing.  While not the most exciting of exhibits (perfectly adequate, but lacking underwater viewing), I did enjoy the educational messaging and framing, highlighting the different challenges and histories of the world's most abundant, stable crocodilian species, set alongside one of the rarest.

Unlike the other three biomes, the grasslands section is also geographic in focus, highlighting the animals of the African Plains.  Opening with a grassy veldt grazed by zebra, ostrich, and wildebeest, the exhibit also features a large muddy yard for white rhinos, rocky kopjes for lions and Guinea baboons, a sprawling yard for cheetahs, and a paddock for giraffes.  The cheetah yard features an interactive that allows visitors to clock their run time against that of the world's fastest land mammal. A separate mixed-species exhibit houses cape porcupine and warthog living together.  The baboon exhibit might have been the weakest point in the zoo for me - too much vertical rockwork, whereas I think they could have benefited from more floorspace.  The other African exhibits, however, I thought were particularly nice.  It's not often I see white rhinos in groups larger than a pair, or zebras in an exhibit in which grass is actually growing.    

African elephants occupy a large habitat with deep pools nearby.  It's not the most exciting of elephant exhibits that I've ever seen, but it seems to do the trick for Indianapolis, has the zoo has a successful history of breeding the pachyderms.  A relatively newborn calf was out on view at the time of my visit.  In fact, the zoo was the site of the world's first successful African elephant artificial insemination, resulting in a calf born in 2000.  (On a side note, I think this is the first zoo I've been to that has both elephants and cetaceans).

Being a relatively new zoo, it didn't surprise me that Indianapolis has many high quality exhibits - and didn't seem to have any that I would call truly poor.  It was a pleasant place to explore, though I didn't find it to be one of the more exciting or complete zoos.  The focus was very much on large mammals, and there wasn't a particularly strong bird or herp collection; even the fish and invertebrate exhibits in the Oceans section felt more like a little bit of thematic glue to fill the gaps between the penguins, pinnipeds, and dolphins.  I also found the biome theming, originally a very intriguing idea, to be a little crumbling, between the monkeys in Oceans and the ape exhibits deviating from naturalism (after careful thought, I decided that I don't especially like the IOC - it's not bad for animals, in my opinion, but just not especially great as an exhibit).

Not to end on a sour note, I will take a moment to allude to some truly great conservation work that the zoo does, which I'll explore a little bit in my next post, and which I got a special sneak-peek into.  Likewise, no visit to the zoo would be complete without also taking a meander through the gorgeous greenhouse and gardens near the entrance.

Zoo Review: Indianapolis Zoo, Part I

The modern Indianapolis Zoo opened in 1988, replacing an older, smaller zoo located in the city's downtown.  Located in White River State Park, the zoo was unique for its unprecedented organization of its animals along biomes.  Whereas historically zoos had arranged their animals taxonomically, and in more recent years had begun to group them geographically, Indianapolis divided its exhibits into four major ecozones, an organizational tactic that it has stuck to to the present.  

The first of the four biomes to be encountered by most visitors is the Oceans section.  The exhibits in this area are divided between two buildings.  Visitors approaching the first building will be greeted by an outdoor habitat of California sea lions, lounging about on rockwork, before venturing inside the aquarium building.  As an aquarium, the building is fairly basic, with only a few tanks of fish and invertebrates, most of them not of any particularly great size - a few largish reef tanks, and a series of jewel-case displays for smaller species.  Dominating the interior is the (perhaps inevitable) ray and shark touch tank, as well as underwater viewing of the sea lions seen outdoors.  Apart from the pinnipeds, the main attraction in this building is the penguin exhibit, where three Antarctic species - king, rockhopper, and gentoo - splash in chilly water or scramble over rocks on either side of the visitor walkway.  The two haves of the exhibit are connected by a waterway underneath the visitor path, so visitors glancing down at the right moment might spy a penguin speeding through the water beneath their feet via windows set into the floor.

When Oceans opened, it boasted of a polar bear exhibit, but as with many zoos, Indianapolis has gotten out of polar bears in recent years.  Whereas many zoos have transitioned from polars to grizzlies, Indianapolis took a... more eccentric approach, and now their former polar bear exhibit is overrun with a troop of long-tailed macaques.  Not the closest thematic match for an Oceans building, one might say... and one would be right... but the monkeys, which are also known as crab-eating macaques, are at least somewhat aquatic, so that ties them to the water theme a little, at least.  Also outside the building is a habitat for walruses, which can also be viewed above and below the water.  Indianapolis is one of the only zoos in America to exhibit the Arctic behemoths, and they're certainly worth a visit.

The second Oceans building is dedicated to a single species, the Atlantic bottle-nosed dolphin.  Visitors to the Saint Vincent Dolphin Pavilion walk through an acrylic tunnel to a dome set mid-depth in the pool, from which they can observe the dolphins swimming all around them.  It's a peaceful experience, albeit a little dark and gloomy.  The dolphins can also be observed participating in educational training demonstrations at set times of the day, with stadium seating and large screens providing views of the animals as they are put through their training paces.

The smallest of the four biomes represented here is Deserts, which is a single domed set into the side of a hill that is covered with desert plants.  Most of the building consists of a meandering walkthrough a series of open-topped habitats for lizards and tortoises (spacious in their size, in not always exciting in their species composition -  I don't think I've ever seen a bearded dragon in such an enormous habitat), with side enclosures for sand cat and meerkat.  A separate gallery attached to the building features a diverse array of snakes, with a special focus on venomous species and large constrictors (many of which aren't desert dwellers).   None of the exhibits are bad, but after having visited such excellent desert-themed zoos as the Living Desert and the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum, it just feels like more could have been done with this biome to create a more dynamic portrayal of desert wildlife.

Directly outside of the Deserts dome is the zoo's non-biome themed area, Encounters, which, as the name suggests, is a series of opportunities for visitors to get up close and personal with animals.  The may walk through a kangaroo exhibit, feed budgies or lorikeets, or feed a flock of friendly flamingos.  Visitors might also encounter one of zoo's many animal ambassadors out on program.

Tomorrow, we'll continue our visit with the zoo's remaining two biomes.

Indianapolis Zoo

The Iceberg House

The fugitive beaded lizards that I scooped off the floor in my early days as a reptile keeper weren't exhibit animals.  Instead, they were held in a series of tubs in an off-exhibit part of the reptile department.  Looking back, I'm not exactly 100% sure why we had them in the first place.  I think (it was years ago, so can't be sure) that we had other beaded lizards on display, but we weren't breeding them, and they weren't surplus offspring that we were holding until they could be placed.  I don't think there was any long term plan for them.  We were just... holding them.  And they weren't alone. 

When I started off in that reptile house, at a large southern zoo, the curator proudly told me that we had nearly 1,000 animals in our collection - and that was excluding the invertebrates, which our department was also affiliated with.  It didn't take me too long to realize that we didn't have 1,000 (or even 100) exhibits.  The majority of the collection was being kept behind-the-scenes.  Much like an iceberg, a visitor to our building would have seen only the tip of the collection, while the remainder was out of sight - of them, anyway.  Certainly not for me - the vast majority of my work was taking care of those animals that were tucked away out of view.

Some of them were animals which were kept off display for breeding.  Some were neonates or juveniles that were being raised until they were big enough to either go on exhibit or ship out to other facilities.  Some were medical cases that needed special care easier provided in more sterile environments.  A lot of it, to be honest, felt kind of like we were warehousing animals, some of which had no clear purpose, other than the fact that either the curator or the supervisor wanted them.

In one little building behind our reptile house, off-exhibit, we had a group of Gray's monitors.  Gray's monitors are fascinating lizards from the Philippines, unusual in that, among a family of lizards known for being voracious hunters and scavengers, they eat fruit.  They're very beautiful and, at the time, were very rare in zoos (they're still not super common exhibit animals, but far more than they used to be).  I asked my curator once why we didn't put them on display - we certainly had suitable exhibit space that was holding animals far less impressive than these guys.  Why wouldn't we show off the crown jewel of the collection?   He said he didn't want people to know we had them.  He was worried someone would break in and steal them.  It seemed like a silly argument to me.  In the small herp community, I feel that most of the folks who would have been interested in them (and that's a relatively small number of people) already knew we had them through word of mouth.  Besides, we had plenty of other theft-worthy animals on display, and no one seemed inclined to break in and steal them.

When I started in that building, I was told having so many animals was standard practice for a big zoo reptile department, and it really was, so I accepted it.  Looking back at it, I feel like it was a holdover from the stamp collection phase that dominated other areas of the zoo world for so long and led to overcrowding and reduced keeper time for animals.  Even when the best of intentions are had, when you try to take in as many animals as you can, always finding "room for one more," that room starts getting increasingly crowded.  We had rows of turtles in tubs, racks of snakes, and walls of Neodeshas, with larger monitors and iguanas in modular cages banked up against the walls.  Enclosures were fairly small and sterile, and I had to work as fast as I could to get everyone fed, watered, and cleaned each day.  Sometimes, I felt that I barely had time to look at the animals to make sure that they were okay.

This was driven home to me one day when I came back from my weekend and found a plate of salad in one tank that was empty exhibit for a little log hide in it.  The keeper who had been covering the section for the weekend that been on autopilot, feeding a row of tanks with young tortoises, and had put salad in this tank as well without even thinking.  We joked about that hungry little log for quite some time.

There's always a need for having off-exhibit space for animals, and some animals will live back there long-term for a variety of reasons - reproduction, welfare, medical care, research, etc.  I'm under no illusions that they back-up housing needs to  be as grandiose or landscaped as the exhibit space.  It should be more than sufficient to meet the needs of the animals, however, and that means keeping the size of the collection to such a level that keepers are able to provide adequate care and devote appropriate space and time to all zoo residents. rather than treating back of house as a game of Tetris, seeing how many and how tightly the tubs and terrariums can be packed together.

Pick-a-Nick Basket, Anyone?

One of the strangest exhibit sights I ever encountered at a zoo was at the Naples Zoo in 2018.  I rounded a corner, looked through a window, and saw an American black bear... sitting at a picnic table.  And I don't mean sitting on it, or by it - he was sitting in it so snugly that you might have thought he was a keeper in a bear suit.  It looks for all the world like he was about to look over his shoulder and call for his wife to grab him another burger while she was up.  I was so mad when I missed getting the picture, but I was just to surprised at first to get my camera out.

That exhibit, of course, was meant to provide an educational display about backyard black bears, and how zoos could work to reduce the human-bear conflict in south Florida (not leaving food out, bear-proof trashcans, etc).  It looks like Oakland Zoo took that educational message and ran with it in this new video.  Countless tourists pass through northern California every year on their way to Yosemite, Kings Canyon, and other park and recreational areas.  Some of them have never shared a landscape with bears before, and don't necessarily make the best decisions.

Up, Up, and Away

 

Attack of the Killer Kielbasas

If there is one thing that beaded lizards, and their cousins the Gila monsters, are most famous for, it's their venom.  While the journey is still out on whether some other lizards, such as Komodo dragons, count as venomous or not, for many years the lizards of the genus Heloderma were regarded as the only venomous lizards in the worlds.  Their venom may not rank that high as far as toxicity goes compared to many of the snakes species kept in zoos, but it still is nasty stuff.  A curator I once worked with recounted a friend of his who had been bitten by one; he said, "It won't kill you, but it that moment you may wish it had."

Being venomous - whether (usually) lethally so or not - was enough to get the beaded lizards at our zoo placed on the "not for you to work with" list when I was a young keeper.  So imagine my surprise and alarm when I was the first person to walk into a building one morning, only to find the floor covered (well, by covered I mean by five or six) large beaded lizards, sprawled about.  Someone had left the lid of their tub off, and the lizards, displaying a previously undetected amount of ambition, had scuttled out.

I probably should have waited for my coworkers to get there, but I had no idea when they would arrive, and the floor contained all sorts of drains, pipes, etc - to say nothing of a few gaps in the walls - that could have provided excellent escape/hiding places for lizards.  Looking back on it, I think that the timers had just turned on the heat lamps not long before I arrived, giving the lizards the push to start moving about out of their enclosure.  As such, they were all still out in the open, having just escaped.  Give them some time, and who knows where they'd go?

I decided to round them all up.  My first thought was just to grab them.  Venom aside, beaded lizards are very sluggish animals, and their jaws are powerful, but their teeth aren't very long.  Besides, unlike snakes, they have a much more easily defined body plan, making easier to predict where they could be safely grabbed.  There were some welding gloves handy - I felt sure that I could grab each lizard safely behind the head, plop it back in tub, and even if I got bitten, the gloves were sure to protect me.

I was about six inches away from grabbing my first fugitive, when I got cold feet about that plan.  So I went to plan two.

Using a snake-stick and a broom handle, I carefully scooped up each lizard, one by one.  It wasn't easy - they were short and they were fat, and they didn't sit easily on the hook.  Plus, my dexterity was off, because I was still wearing the gloves, in case I had to grab someone before they made an escape.  In that moment, it reminded my of trying to eat an entire kielbasa using a small pair of chopsticks.  Slowly and carefully, I got each lizard back in the tub, then shut it carefully.  Then, I put a cinderblock on top of the lid.

Even by their own standards, my colleagues were pretty late getting to work that morning.  By that time I was worried about the possibility of getting in trouble for handling the situation on my own, so I told my boss that I'd found the animals in the act of crawling back and pushed them back, then replaced the lid.  I'm just glad that I played it as safe as an inexperienced newbie keeper could have, and never had to explain to anyone that I got bitten by a venomous sausage.

Species Fact Profile: Mexican Beaded Lizard (Heloderma horridum)

                                                      Mexican Beaded Lizard

                                           Heloderma horridum (Wiegmann, 1829)

Range:  Central and Western Mexico, Northern Central America 

Habitat: Semi-Arid Grasslands, Desert, Scrub Forest, Sea Level to 1500 Meters

Diet:  Small Mammals, Birds, Lizards, Frogs, Insects, and (especially) Eggs

Social Grouping: Solitary

Reproduction:  Reach sexual maturity at two and a half to three years old.  Breeding season is February through March.  Copulation lasts 30-60 minutes.  Female lays 3-13 elongated eggs about two months later, buried in a hole 10-15 centimeters deep, then left on their own.  Eggs hatch at about 6 months.  Young are about 20 centimeters and weigh about 40 grams at time of hatching.  Young are seldom seen, believed to stay mostly underground until they are larger, at about 2-3 years

Lifespan: Up to 50 years

      Conservation Status:  IUCN Least Concern.  CITES Appendix II

• Body length 90-76 centimeters (about half of which is tail).  Males are slightly longer and much heavier than females, weighed up to 4 kilograms compared to the 1.4-2 kilograms for a female
• Body is cylindrical with a thick tail.  Head is wide and flat, legs and short and strong.  Upper part of the body is covered with large, hard scales (each consisting of a small bead of bone, or an osteoderm), while those on the belly are smaller and softer.  Males generally (but not always) have broader heads and longer necks than females
• Scales are predominately black or dark brown, with some yellow spotting scattered on the tail and neck.  Younger lizards tend to have more yellow in blotches and bands, darkening with age.  Chiapan subspecies tend to be all black
• Late name translates to “Horrible Nail-Skin”, referring to the studded appearance of the scales
• Along with Heloderma suspectum (Gila monster) and the Guatemala beaded lizard, this is the only truly venomous lizard.  Venom flows from the glands through grooved teeth on the lower jawbone.  As the lizard gnaws on its prey, venom is drawn in through capillary action
• Bites are not considered fatal to humans, but are extremely painful and will require medical treatment.  Almost all bites occur when victim is attempting to handle the animal.  Bitten humans first become agitated, then very drowsy, arterial pressure drops, and respiratory failure.  In humans, causes swelling, weakness, sweating, and drop of blood pressure.  The lizards are immune to their own venom
• The venom is being studied for its pharmacological use, especially for the treatment of diabetes, as well as Alzheimer’s, HIV, and breast and lung cancer
•    Few natural predators – coyotes and raptorial birds.  Venom is used for defense – lizard will threaten enemies by gaping and hissing before attempting to bite
• Primarily nocturnal.  Spends the day in burrows, either dug itself or by other animals.  Slow and sluggish when it first emerges, become more active and aggressive as the night wears on.  Most terrestrial, but will climb low trees and shrubs as well
• Most prey is swallowed whole, except eggs, which are broken first.   Eggs are the favorite food – confiscated animals rescued from collectors can often be induced to eat other food sources by pouring egg on a mouse or other prey item.  Prey is primarily found by scent – pink forked tongue is used in association with Jacobson’s organ, similar to a snake or varanid. 
• Fat is stored in the tail, giving it a swollen appearance when well fed.  Lizard can survive off of fat stored here for when food is scarce.  Tail cannot grow back if lost
•  Once listed as four subspecies across its range – H. h. alvarezi (Chiapan beaded lizard), H. charlesbogerti (Guatemalan beaded lizard), H. exasperatum (Rio Fuerte beaded lizard), and H. horridum (Mexican beaded lizard). Guatemalan beaded lizard is now usually now listed as a full species; sometimes so are the others.  
• Population believed to be in decline, size not known  The Guatemalan subspecies/species is the most endangered of the beaded lizards (possibly the most endangered lizard in the world) with a wild population of less than 200 individuals
• Primary threats are loss of habitat (including forest fires and mortality associated with road construction) and collection for the pet trade.  Also killed opportunistically by local people who are afraid of being bitten
• Local superstitions surround this species include the beliefs that it can cause lightning strikes with its tail or cause a pregnant woman to miscarry just by looking at her.  Also believed to be far more venomous than it actually is (feared more than rattlesnakes)

Beanie Babies for Guatemala

Reintroduction programs are some of the most exciting and inspiring of stories coming out of zoos.  There is something magical about the idea of turning the tide of extinction and helping to restore and recreate a little piece of the natural world that we've been at risk of losing.  At the same time, there are times that I worry that by sharing those stories so much, we create an unrealistic expectation that reintroduction is the *only* real form of conservation work that zoos do.  I've seen a few exchanges where anti-zoo folks online have asked if a newborn baby animal in a zoo is going to be released, and act like they just pulled some unquestionable trump card on us and we're hopeless to answer.  There is an answer, and that answer is no... and no one ever said that was the plan.

 

 Still, when reintroduction projects are starting up, it's hard not to be excited about them.  The vast majority involve herps, fish, and inverts, species which are much easier to breed in large numbers and then reintroduce.  Recently, Zoo Atlanta announced that nearly a dozen beaded lizards (southern cousins to the Gila monsters we have in the US) are going to Guatemala as part of a reintroduction program.  It's a great success for the zoo, and one which I'm sure that their staff are very proud of, as they should be.

Guess Who's Coming to Visit?

I don't think anyone is that surprised by this news, but it's still very welcome to here.  The Smithsonian National Zoo without giant pandas just isn't the same place.