If many visitors at our zoo were baffled by the sight of a bison playing with a ball, they weren't in the worst of company. We had, after all, given them the ball in hopes of making the toy more appealing to the jaguars, not because we thought the bison would really enjoy it. This was in the days when enrichment was first starting to creep into the zoo, and the consensus was that the priority was providing it for the animals that appeared more... well... intellectually gifted. Primates. Parrots. Carnivores. Not glorified cows. Likewise, enrichment and training were seen as the domain of the fancy new educated keepers, not the so-called animal janitors who proceeded them.
In the decades that have followed, our understanding of what enrichment is and how it benefits animals has changed tremendously. When we the concept was first presented to keepers, it was a simplified version of "toys for animals." At the time, enrichment was seen as an "extra" part of the job (training was, too), so we had to prioritize who got it, fitting it in around the more established priorities of feeding, cleaning, and exhibit maintenance. There were some animals that it was thought just wouldn't benefit from it. More than that, there was a thought held by many that prey species, such as ungulates, macropods, and many birds, would be stressed out by enrichment, and would better be served by largely being left alone.
We now have a broader definition of enrichment, one that is less focused on objects (read: toys, or, if you're uncharitable, as many of my older colleagues were, trash), and more focused on behavior. The goal is to try to allow every animal to live a life that allows for the expression of as many natural behaviors as possible. Bison, obviously, do not play with big plastic balls on the Great Plains. What they do do, however - especially males - is spar to establish their place in a herd and access to females. We only had one male bison at our zoo, but the ball gave him an outlet for that behavior, something to butt up against and toss around and exercise those behavioral and physical muscles in that way.
Similarly, bison dust bathe a lot in the wild - they actually change the landscape by forming wallows and indentations in the ground, so enrichment might look like managing the exhibit to provide areas for that behavior. Or, it might mean providing scratching posts to allow bison to rub off their winter coat as the seasons change. It might be introducing rolls of sod for grazing, or changing the diet to reflect seasonal changes, just as animals in migration with the seasons might experience.
The secret to enrichment isn't to just provide something that you might find interesting yourself, or what you think your USDA inspector wants to see. It's to put yourself in the paws or hooves of your animal, to ask yourself what sort of behavior it would be engaging in if it were in the wild. Sometimes, it's an easy fix - dirt for digging animals, water for swimming animals, etc. Sometimes it can take a little more creativity. We can't throw live ungulates to the big cats and wolves, for example, but we can find other ways to replicate those behaviors - searching, chasing, grappling, tearing.
So every animal is enrichable. Even the "dumb" ones. And every keeper can do enrichment. Even the "dumb" ones.
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