Of Eagles and Oysters

 Years ago, when I was much younger, my dad, who has had a decades-long interest in marine biology, found this poem and showed it to me.  He was impressed by two things.  First, how bad it was as a poem.  Second, how wrong the sentiment is.

Firstly, security?  A spawning oyster releases millions of spat.  Precious few make it to adulthood.  On the other hand, eagles have very few young and raise a much greater proportion to adulthood.

The oyster is made out to be some sort of freeloader, when in reality it performs vital ecological services.  When John Smith sailed up the Chesapeake in the 1600s, the oysters were capable of cleaning the water of the entire Bay.

Eagles can fly - which means that they can cut-and-run (fly?) when the going gets tough.  Oysters are stuck where they are and have to stick the hard times out.

Eagles are in it for themselves - oysters build upon each other's foundations, and are the bedrock of communities.

And unlike an eagle, an oyster can take a small, insignificant irritant, and make it a pearl.

In an age when people are becoming increasingly selfish, insular, and shallow, maybe the humble oyster would be the ideal rolemodel.

Species Fact Profile: Eastern Oyster (Crassostrea virginica)

                                                                  Eastern Oyster

                                               Crassostrea virginica (Gmelin, 1791)

Range: Western Atlantic coastline, from Canada to northern South America

Habitat: Brackish and salty waters, up to 10 meters deep

Diet: Plankton

Social Grouping: Large Beds

Reproduction: Spawning influenced by warmer water temperatures.  Free-floating, fertilized eggs (each female can produce up to 150 million, of which only a tiny number survive) hatch and, after about 3 weeks, settle on the bottom.  Most young oysters ("spat") are male, but some may change to females as they age - and sometimes back to male

Lifespan: 20 Years

      Conservation Status: Vulnerable (not listed)

• Can grow up to 20 centimeters shell length, usually about half that length
• Hard, calcium-carbonate, bivalve, cup-shaped shell formed to protect soft tissue.  Juveniles have an argon-based shell, transitioning to calcium when they settle on the seabed and are more exposed to predators.  Inside of shell is white or off-white
• Filter feeder, sucking in water, filtering out edible material, and spitting out water.  A single oyster can filter nearly 200 liters of water in a 24-hour period, helping to purify water
• Oysters gather in large beds, which form structural habitats for other species in a manner similar to coral reefs
• Capable of forming small pearls around particles in the shell, but typically small and economically insignificant
• Traditionally have been very important as a food source, first for Native Americans, later for colonists.  New harvesting techniques and better storage/transportation greatly increased pressure on populations, leading to severe overharvesting and decline (down to 1% of historical population levels).
• In addition to fishing, oyster beds were dredged and destroyed, making it harder to spat to settle and grow.  Shells were used for mortar, for road construction, or as fertilizer
• Commercially farmed for aquaculture, reintroduction efforts; also introduced to Hawaii

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving!  Especially to all of the dedicated animal care staff who are at work today, seeing to the animals.  I hope today is quick and uneventful for you, so you can wrap up and get to settle down for a well-earned dinner!  And special thoughts to those keepers working far from home.

Zoo History: Beebe, Barton, and the Bathysphere

"Don't die without having borrowed, stolen, purchased, or made a helmet of sorts, to glimpse for yourself this new world.  Books, aquaria and glass-bottomed boats are, to such as experience, only what a timetable is to an actual tour."

- William Beebe, Beneath Tropical Seas

It could be said that William Beebe, in some ways, had trouble focusing. 

Beebe was hired as the assistant curator of birds at the brand-new New York Zoological Park (WCS Bronx Zoo) in 1899; before the year was out, he'd been promoted to curator.  His meteoric rise was fueled by this imagination, hard work, and intuitive nature.  Still, the bird curator was a restless fellow, and even the bustle of the day to day management of the enormous zoo seemed not enough to fill his mind.  To the exasperation of his Director, the admittedly-easily-exasperated William T. Hornaday, Beebe began to spend more and more time afield.  One year might have seen him trekking the globe as he penned his four-volume Monograph of the Pheasants, describing all living species.  Another might find him setting up a field station for research in the tropics.

Eventually, though, Beebe developed a singular fascination with the last place you'd expect a bird-man to find himself - the ocean depths.

A burgeoning interest in marine biology, perhaps inevitable in a man who spent so much time in ships crossing the globe, eventually led Beebe to an interest in what lay beneath the surface.  In 1928 and 1929, Beebe partnered with American engineer Otis Barton to develop what they called the bathysphere.  This device - essentially a claustrophobic metal ball, about a meter in diameter with a tiny viewing window - would allow humans for the first time to travel deep into the ocean; previous depths were limited to what a human wearing an armored diving suit could stand.  On May 27, 1930, Beebe and Barton climbed inside for their maiden voyage to the depth.

For their first dive, they took it to the modest depth of 45 feet, a simple trial run.  The second time, they sent it down - unmanned - to test the cables that connected it to the surface.  For their next manned dive, they went to a depth of over 800 feet below the surface - a new record.

Over the next several years, Beebe and Barton set several world records for deepest dives recorded (as well as a record for the deepest dive by a woman, Beebe's assistant Gloria Hollister).  These dives greatly expanded our knowledge of marine life and oceanic geography.   Their deepest dive, over 3000 feet, was broken by Barton himself when he developed his newer model, the benthoscope.  The bathysphere provided new insights into how the world's largest ecosystem functions, captured the public imagination, and paved the way for future explorers and marine biologists, such as Jacques Cousteau.  

Today, the bathysphere stands outside the entrance of the New York Aquarium.

Built Zoo Tough

I saw this video of some polar bears playing with firehose toys, and my wheels started turning.  We use firehose for a lot of toys, hammocks, climbing structures, etc for a variety of animals.  It's an incredibly tough substance, and, since fire departments are always having to get new hoses and have old ones they're giving away, the supply is fairly steady.  Not many people outside of zoos (or fire departments) have that much hands-on experience with the stuff, though. A lot of folks watching the video were surprised at how strong the material is.

  

Years ago, when I was very young and local TV was still a thing, I remember a commercial for a local carpet company.  They went to my local zoo, which at the time still had lots of the old style cages, and placed carpeting in several of the bear and big cat cages.  The animals, predictably, made a mess with them - but the company was able to demonstrate that their carpet was able to hold up even against large wild animals, remaining intact and even being cleanable afterwards.  If our carpeting can stand up to a bear, the messaging went, surely it's tough enough for your kids and dog!

Maybe there's a market out there somewhere for advertising for "zoo tough" products.  Probably not carpeting, mind you, because we're generally not going to put that even in our staff areas.  But an unkinkable hose that can be used in any weather?  Cable ties that the most determined macaw can't crack open?  Work gloves that are flexible enough to let you finger through your 5000 keys in the dead of winter?  Truck beds that can handle large pieces of deadfall being hauled around the zoo?

Corporate sponsorships via endorsements - that would be a neat trick to pull off.  Because I guarantee, if a product is tough enough to work at the zoo, I'm sure it's more than tough enough for your home.

Book Review: Lost Animals, Disappearing Worlds - Stories of Extinction

I spotted this book, quite by chance, on the shelf of the local library and paged through it.  It looked fairly intriguing - a series of vignettes about a few dozen modern, human-driven extinctions, from the aurochs in the 1600s to the very-near present.  I was especially interested because, in addition to some very well-known species, such as the dodo, great auk, passenger pigeon, and thylacine - it also covered many more obscure species, including a handful of invertebrates.  I checked it out.

The writer, Barbara Allen, definitely made an interesting choice when she opted to write each chapter from the perspective of the extinct animal in question, like a ghost reaching back from beyond the veil.  Unique perspective.  But it didn't really work, and was more of an awkward distraction that anything else.  I don't care how good a writer is, I'm not going to be able to suspend my disbelief and take you seriously if you pretend to be a St. Helena's earwig.  Also, there were 30-odd chapters, so keeping that melodramatic tone over and over for each animal made them all feel like they were blurring together.

And, yes, I'll be honest, I found the several digs at zoos ("prisons," as she repeatedly calls them) to be grating.  How this animal or that animal died of despair.  It's like, look, lady, the only reason your book doesn't also have chapters on the Arabian oryx and California condor is because of zoos, so maybe a slightly more even-handed approach to a nuanced topic, okay?

I did enjoy the fine collection of photos and illustrations, and, as I mentioned earlier, appreciated the spotlight being shone on species that are often overlooked, including the most recent - and therefore most avoidable - extinctions.  The execution of the book was lacking, though.  For those interested in a similar take on this project - minus the first-person perspective - I recommend A Gap in Nature by Tim Flannery, with excellent illustrations by Peter Schouten.

Lost Animals, Disappearing Worlds: Stories of Extinction at Good Reads

My Favorite Dinosaur?

Triceratops, of course!  Just not quite how I expected it...

KJ, a black rhino at the Sedgwick County Zoo in Kansas, is spotting an unexpected third horn, this one from the center of the forehead.  If the Asian one-horned rhino may have contributed to the legend of the unicorn (its right there in the Latin name Rhinoceros unicornis), maybe this aberrant African rhino is a 21st-century take on the triceratops?

In seriousness, no one knows quite how this horn would impact the rhino if left to its own devices, so keepers are managing it so it doesn't inconvenience the animal.  Right now, it's mostly a curiosity - which I kind of love.   It never ceases to amaze me that we still have so many surprises in store for us when we study animals, in the zoo and in the wild.

A Rough Streak in Indianapolis

 "He had noticed that events were cowards: they didn't occur singly, but instead they would run in packs and leap out at him all at once."

- Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere

Dr. Robert Shumaker isn't having a good month.  The President of the Indianapolis Zoo has been dealing with a spree of bad luck at the institution.  First of all, two rare tortoises were stolen from the zoo, though they were thankfully recovered.  Then, a bottlenose dolphin - who was on birth control - gave birth to a male calf, which then did not survive, putting the staff through an emotional rollercoaster.  Then, most recently, a chimp escaped from the zoo's new chimpanzee exhibit.  There are few animals which would terrify me more to have on the loose than a chimp - when I first heard the news, the ape was still out of its enclosure, and I was fearing the worst, both for the animal and for the staff.  Thankfully, she was recaptured without too much incident.

Speaking of chimps, Shumaker had his hand bitten by a chimp earlier this year, losing a portion of a finger.  Maybe he was worried that the word got out and the chimps were out for more.

They say bad things come in threes, so hopefully that wraps up Indy's bad luck.  The truth is, though, that I've noticed that when rough things happen to a zoo, they tend to keep piling on for a while.  My theory is that the staff, worn out and rattled by disasters, becomes exhausted and more prone to slip up.  Or, you start vigilantly guarding yourself against one potential problem that you let your guard down towards others.  You become so paranoid about letting an animal escape, for example, that all of your attention zeroes in on shifting and checking locks, that you overlook something else.

Totally been there.

And, that being said, there's also such thing as coincidence and bad luck.  Good zoos can have streaks of bad luck, just as bad zoos can have undeserved good luck.

Hopefully, Indianapolis has used up their bad luck and things look ahead for a bright new year.

Species Fact Profile: Yellowtail Snapper (Ocyurus chrysurus)

                                                          Yellowtail Snapper

                                               Ocyurus chrysurus (Bloch, 1791)

Range: Western Atlantic Ocean (includes Gulf of Mexico, Caribbean)

Habitat: Coral Reefs, depths up to 180 meters

Diet: Crustaceans, Worms, Small Fish, Algae

Social Grouping: Schools

Reproduction: Spawn in groups from spring to fall, peaking in summer (can be year-round).  Over 100,000 (potentially over one million) eggs released floating in the water, externally spawned.  Hatch within 24 hours.  Generally sexually mature at 3-4 years old.

Lifespan: Approximately 10 Years

      Conservation Status: IUCN Data Deficient

• Body length generally 40 centimeters, but very large specimens have measured 85 centimeters and weighed 5 kilograms.  One dorsal fin, one anal fin.  Long pectoral fins
• Background color is blueish-gray, paler on the underside, with most prominent color being a distinct yellow band with starts at the snout and runs to the deeply forked tail, which is completely yellow.  Some light yellow spotting elsewhere on the body.  Dorsal fin is also yellow, other fins are whitish.
• Predators include barracuda, sharks, grouper, mackerels, and dolphins
• Popular sport fish. popular cuisine.  Not currently believed to be overfished in general, but some regional declines have been reported.  Sometimes caught in large numbers by shrimp trawlers.  Also commercially farmed
• Occasional reports of humans experiencing poisoning after eating this species, believed to have been caused by snappers feedings on toxic microalgae found on dead coral
• Scientific name translates to "Golden Swift Tail"

Welcome Back to the Zoo

With the government shutdown over (at least for a few months), the National Zoo is once again open - so if you're in the area and want to see the pandas, I'd make a point of doing so now, before things inevitably go pear-shaped yet again...

 

Zoo Review: New York Aquarium, Part II

Continuing the tour of the New York Aquarium, we cross the courtyard that contains the Sea Cliffs/Sea Change exhibit to a huge, shiny new building, home to the Aquarium's new flagship exhibit.

When Super Storm Sandy struck the region in 2012, it inflicted significant damage on the facility and pushed back, by several years, the construction and opening of Ocean Wonders; Sharks!  It was worth the wait.  Opening in 2018, this building is a fascinating display focused on the most famous fish in the sea, and encourages visitors to appreciate rather than fear these charismatic predators.

Visitors enter through a tunnel that passes through a beautiful coral reef, home to a few species of smaller sharks - wobbegongs, zebra shark, blacktip reef shark - as well as other colorful fish.  The exhibit meanders through a combination of animal areas, featuring smaller fish and invertebrate tanks, as well as lots of attractive, innovative, interactive education devices.  Visitors can learn about the adaptations of sharks, track the movements of tagged sharks in the wild, and appreciate the diversity of this family.  They can also learn about the threats facing sharks, including a display on shark-finning, which I thought did an excellent job addressing an ugly, brutal conservation issue in a sensitive manner.  They can also visit a mock diner counter to learn about sustainable seafood choices a la Monterey Bay Aquarium's Seafood Watch program.

The highlight of the building is the main shark tank, styled after Hudson Canyon.  Its depths are patrolled by sand tiger, sandbar, and nurse sharks.  Large shark tanks tend to be kind of bland at many aquariums, kept open to allow maximum swimming space for species that need to swim constantly.  This one I found to be decently furnished, while the curved backdrop makes it look like it goes on forever.

Additional sharks - and sturgeon, and stingray - are seen outside in a large, outdoor tank that seems very out of place, until you learn that it was originally for belugas, and the sharks are kind of filler at this point.  There is also a nearby amphitheater for seal and sea lion demonstrations.

An additional building nearby houses Spineless Wonders, the invertebrate gallery.  The giant Pacific octopus is the star here, but the display also features Japanese spider crab, flamboyant cuttlefish, and various jellies, crustaceans, and starfish.  I especially enjoyed the photo wall and surrounded some of the smaller tanks, which did a great job of highlighting the enormous diversity of invertebrates in the sea and what a vast percentage of ocean life they represent.  It's a neat little space with some cool species, but it can feel a bit cramped, especially when a large group enters.  

The building then passes into the Playquarium.  You don't always see a designated children's zone in an aquarium, and this was a fun space for kids to run around, climb, and play, interspersed with some kelp forest aquariums.  There are also touch tanks, a small shorebird exhibit, and a neat little display of eastern oysters, an ecologically and economically important species which has been making a comeback in recent years.

I'm not the connoisseur of aquariums that I am of zoos, but New York Aquarium has since become one of my favorites.  It doesn't have the rarities that some other major aquariums have (I'm sorry not to have been when they had walruses, not too many years ago), and much of its collection and exhibitry may seem a bit boilerplate.  But what it does have, it does well.  The collection is solid, the exhibits are well done for the species present, the indoor/outdoor layout and history give it a unique feel, and the conservation credentials are excellent.   I especially admired how the Aquarium is willing to be vocal and direct about threats to wildlife and what needs to be done to fight them, be it climate change for sea mammals or finning for sharks. 

It's a very enjoyable aquarium that can be tied into a larger visit to Coney Island, a walk on the beach, or a trip to the WCS Prospect Park Zoo, just a few subway stops away.

Zoo Review: WCS New York Aquarium, Part I

When aquarium aficionados talk about US public aquariums, they usually talk about the Big 3 - Monterey Bay, Shedd, and Georgia.  All of which, to be sure, are excellent facilities.  Still, the US aquarium that I've been most excited to finally see was the New York Aquarium, located in Brooklyn's Coney Island, just steps from the beach.  The reason for this interest was history.  Aquariums as a rule tend to be much younger than US zoos, but the New York Aquarium is one of the oldest and most storied in the country.  Though only its present location since 1957 ("Only"... as if that alone didn't make it much older than many other aquariums), the facility itself dates back to 1896, when it was located in Battery Park.  Over that history, it has paved the way for other aquariums to follow in its footsteps.  The Aquarium formed a single entity with the Bronx Zoo long before the city's other small zoos joined them under the Wildlife Conservation Society umbrella.

It also doesn't hurt that it's just a real nice aquarium, as well.

Part of the appeal of this facility to me was also how different it is from most aquariums.  It's not just one big building - it's actually several buildings, spread across a 14 acre campus.  This gives a more pleasant, park-like vibe than one sees at many aquariums.  It also makes the facility less claustrophic and allows you to not be trapped with a single screaming school group for the entire course of your visit.

Speaking of claustrophobia, one of the most remarkable sights in the Aquarium for a zoo enthusiast is located right outside the front gate - the original bathysphere, used by WCS Curator and scientist-explorer William Beebe.

Most visitors enter through the Conservation Hall, what I would think of as the main aquarium building.  The signature exhibit here is Glover's Reef, a depiction of a reef off the coast of Belize.  Many aquariums have tropical reefs, but this was tailored to a specific habitat, reflecting WCS's long-standing commitment to highlighting specific habitats that it works with in the field, where the Society maintains a research station.  It's a pleasant, long, well-lit gallery, home to an assortment of attractive species, from colorful parrotfish and butterflyfish to schooling yellowtail snapper to lurking green morays.  The signage does a good job of emphasizing the conservation work of the organization and the need to protect coral reef habitats.

The rest of the building is dedicated to smaller tanks highlighting other ecosystems around the world, both marine (including the coral labs which seem ubiquitous in aquariums these days) and freshwater.  The latter, for instance, is depicted in part with a gorgeous display of African cichlids, explaining how the unique fish of Africa's Great Lakes have been threatened by invasive species.  As with many aquariums, there is also a strong Amazon focus here, with piranhas, pacus, tetra, and catfish.  The most modest exhibits, which I actually found the most interesting, were the tiny, plain tanks of little Madagascar freshwater fish - rainbowfish and killifish.  These tanks were set up not as immersive displays showing a habitat, but to show how aquariums work to propagate endangered fish under human care in almost lab-like settings.  It's the sort of display that would have been behind-the-scenes in the past, not is now being shown front and center more.

Outside, in the central area of the aquarium, are the outdoor habitats for marine mammals and penguins.  Formerly known as Sea Cliffs - the habitats are a panorama of rocky exhibits fronted with pools - the area has since been restyled as Sea Change, highlighting how human-caused changes to the oceans are impacting some of the most charismatic animals in the seas.  Habitats feature California sea lions (the one species seen as each WCS facility), harbor seals, sea otters, and African penguins.  Animals can be seen from the surface or through an underwater gallery, where a few more small aquarium tanks can also be seen.  Signage was surprisingly bold and frank about the need to address climate change if we're to save species - looking at it, I couldn't help but wonder if the Aquarium might find itself under attack from certain political factions for its message.

Tomorrow, we'll look into the rest of the campus, including the newest and, in the eyes of many, most spectacular exhibit.

WCS New York Aquarium

The Belugas of Marineland

 For weeks, I'd been following the story of the thirty beluga whales currently at Marineland of Canada, just across the US-Canada border from Niagara Falls.  The whales are in urgent need of a new home, but between the limited facilities capable of taking in even a few of the marine mammals and the legal hurdles to moving cetaceans, ready solutions have been hard to come by.  Some voices have even been advocating for the euthanasia of the entire group, just to solve the problem (or at least make it so they don't have to worry about it any longer).  A statement on the whales, from AZA and their Canadian counterpart, CAZA:

Despite what some folks believe, there are not sanctuaries or sea-pens that can accommodate these animals, nor is it clear that such facilities would be a good fit for these animals if they did exist.  As far as I can see, the best solution would be to rehome these animals in accredited facilities, with a special focus on which facilities could accomodate appropriate social groups to keep certain animals together.

Veteran's Day

Today, November 11, is Veteran's Day in the US.  Veterans have traditionally been well-represented in zoo workforces, in part due to hiring preferences for them among government-run zoos, especially at the federal level.  (Also seen in decent numbers in parts of the government that we interact with - well, when the government is open, anyway - such as USDA inspectors).  Many facilities also use this day to thank veterans for their service with free or discounted admission and other recognition events.  Thank you to those who have served the country, be they members of our staff or coming through our gates.

A Deliberate Mix

The recent discussions about the hybrid status of giraffes have only formalized what many zoo professionals have long suspected about giraffes in American zoos.  Namely, that they are mutts.  Sure, the consensus earlier had been that they were mixes of different subspecies, rather than different subspecies, but when the authors of the previously shared article claimed that hybrid giraffes were of relatively little conservation value, they weren't really shocking anyone. 

Today, accredited zoos scrupulously take steps to avoid hybridization.  For example, they may try not to house individuals of closely related species in the same enclosure, or at least not potential mates.  Among some zoos and private collectors and hobbyists, however, hybridization can occur deliberately.

Sometimes it's more aesthetics.  The green tree python and the carpet python, for example, can produce hybrid snakes of striking beauty when crossbred.  Likewise, a scarlet macaw and a blue-and-gold macaw result in a bird called the Catalina macaw by hobbyists.  Perhaps the best example among zoos are the various cat hybrids, such as ligers, which have enormous size and a striking appearance - to say nothing of health problems.

Other hybrids are produced with more pragmatic goals in mind (similar to how a horse and donkey are crossed to produce a mule).  Falconers prize the gyrfalcon for its size and beauty, but that arctic-dwelling falcon is susceptible to diseases in the temperate zone.  By crossbreeding it with another falcon, falconers can fly a bird that has the size and strength of the gyrfalcon and the hardiness of its more southerly relative.

And, of course, sometimes hybrids just happen through carelessness.  I've worked with hybrid antelope (gemsbok/scimitar-horned oryx), felids (bobcat/Eurasian lynx), and primates (gibbon cross).  I've seen several crossed waterfowl and parrots, the romantic liaisons of lone males and females without suitable companions of their own species.  And more years it has been known that polar and brown bears will readily hybridize in zoos, something which is now seen in the wild with increasing frequency as well.

Despite the lack of conservation value of hybrids, I doubt that hybrid giraffes will disappear from zoos any time soon.  Giraffes are among the most popular of zoo animals in accredited and unaccredited facilities alike.  The AZA has begun transitioning to purebred individuals of one species, the Masai giraffe, a transition that was started before the four giraffes were recognized as full species.  Still, the Masais represent only a small portion of the North American zoo giraffe population, and their numbers, while growing, aren't enough to fill the demands of zoos for exhibition purposes.  Until their population grows large enough, it's likely that hybrids will still be produced to fill those spaces.

Species Fact Profile: Bornean Eared Frog (Polypedates otilophus )

                                                  Bornean Eared (File-Eared) Frog

                                               Polypedates otilophus (Boulenger, 1893)

Range: Borneo

Habitat: Lowland Rainforest (up to 1100 meters elevation, usually less than 400), Forest Edge

Diet: Insects, Spiders

Social Grouping: Solitary or Semi-Social

Reproduction: Breeding season is April-June.  Males call to females, grasp her from behind as she produces a foam nest in a branch over the water, into which the eggs are laid.  When the eggs hatch, the tadpoles drop into the water below.  Tadpoles grow up to 6 centimeters long.  Metamorphosis 8-10 weeks

Lifespan: 5-10 Years

      Conservation Status: IUCN Least Concern

• 8-10 centimeters long, females larger than males.  Robust body with slender limbs.  Fingertips expand into large disks, minimal webbing between digits.  Prominent ridges about the above the eyes and ears.  Fold of skin extends horizontally behind tympanum.  Large eyes with horizontal irises
• Light gray-brown to lemon yellow body with thin black stripes, black barring on the thighs
• Primarily arboreal, most often encountered near bodies of water, about 1-4 meters up in trees
• Have a distinctive, musky smell, which many people find offensive
• Population appears to be in slight decline, but tolerant of some degree of habitat disturbance.  Not especially popular in the pet trade due to fragility
• Eared frogs on Sumatra was once considered the same species, now believed to be a distinct but closely-related species

A Muddle of Giraffes

Wild giraffes lose their conservation safety net as zoo populations hybridize

Vacancy for a Director

Zoos have progressed tremendously in recent years, but you'll find many professionals in our field with a bit of nostalgia for eras gone by.  Part of it is that there were greater varieties of animals around to work with, part of it was that it seemed easier to actually build things and start new projects.  I've occasionally thought it would have been amazing to be able to go back to when my zoo was young, over a century ago, with what I know now.  How many mistakes we could have avoided, how much further our progress today would be... all of that, assuming, that I was actually hired.

Take a look at this job posting for a zoo director position back from 1950

Remembering the Dead

When I was younger, it seemed like zoo animals were immortal.  The animals never died; or, at least, when they did die, their deaths were never acknowledged.  You just went to the zoo one day, and the exhibit was empty, or someone else was in there instead.  Did that favorite animal get transferred to another zoo?  Was it resting behind-the-scenes in retirement?  Who knew?

It was an era in which zoos were becoming more responsive to criticisms from animal rights groups, and as such were loath to discuss the reality - every animal, whether wild or captive, eventually dies.

It hit me as a shock when I became a keeper... because my animals did, in fact, die.

In recent years, zoos have become more open about the passing of animals, trusting the public to believe that the zoo has done its best, and allowing the public to mourn with staff when animals are lost.  Some zoos even have erected memorials to animals that are especially beloved, sometimes with life-sized statues.  It can, I'll admit, make it a little harder when you're a bird or herp keeper.  You care deeply about your charges, but they seem to fly under the public radar (and your zoo's social media) when they go, no matter how much those individuals meant to you.

So I was happy to see that the St. Louis Zoo is celebrating Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) this year with an ofrenda to commemorate their animals (as well as staff pets).  Death is a part of life - the last part, to be specific - for our animals, and it is unavoidable, no matter how excellent their care is.  Dealing with death is part of caring for animals, at home, on the farm, or at the zoo.  We can't change that.  What we can change is how we celebrate and remember that animals that were part of our lives, either permanently, through statues and plaques, or with a holiday dedicated to their memory.