Zoo Hate and Human Hate

The social media fallout from the recent tragedy involving the euthanizing of a male Lowland Gorilla after a child entered its enclosure has surprised and shocked me, and that is just my reaction to my friends, some of whom I know personally outside of Facebook. The emotionally-charged reactions run the gamut from those who think zoos themselves are an atrocity to the other end of the spectrum claiming that the planet would be better off without people.

© Heidi Eaton

I found myself outraged and disgusted for a number of reasons. I used to work at the Cincinnati Zoo. Several of my former colleagues still work there. My spouse works with gorillas here in Colorado Springs. There but for the grace of God and responsible zoo-goers goes her.

I have attended regional and international gorilla-keeper conferences with her and can attest to the fact that these people pour their heart and soul into their work. Every zoo's gorilla population is closely monitored, every male and female pairing scrupulously evaluated before the animals are ever introduced. The loss of a single captive gorilla has to the potential to throw the whole world zoo community into chaos. Keepers witness things you would never want to see, and then learn how to prevent future episodes like them. They share every experience, from exhilarating and positive, to tragic and devastating, because it is vitally important to do so.

Some people without experience in zoos have been quick to attribute blame for this incident to the zoo. Zoos are inherently risky places for both employees and visitors, but every effort is made to protect guests while furnishing increasingly innovative immersion exhibits. Some animals are, obviously, too dangerous for direct contact, even by keepers, and gorillas are among them. The bottom line, however, is that it is not a zoo's responsibility to protect you from your own reckless behavior, no matter what age you are.

Meanwhile, zoos are critical to efforts aimed at conserving endangered species, especially in the sense of genetic diversity, and raising not only infant animals but also raising the awareness and appreciation of zoo visitors to the plight of the captive's wild brethren. To suggest that (formally accredited) zoos have no place in our world, or are inhumane and cruel, is simply ludicrous. Remember those gorilla keeper conferences? One topic always held in high priority is "enrichment," to insure that captive animals are constantly stimulated physically and emotionally.

My one failing in this discussion is that I am not a parent. It is telling that the people most incensed at the accusations suggesting the mother (and father?) are to blame in this tragedy, are themselves mothers or fathers. The argument invariably goes something like "I can see someone losing sight of their child in an instant, it has happened to me." Perhaps. What do I know, I'm an only child, raised mostly by an overprotective mother in an age that lacked electronic distractions. For better or worse, we are a society that demands accountability; because we so often don't get it, from our government officials to our next door neighbor, we explode with even greater hostility over the next time.

The whole concept of a human life being more important than the life of another organism I find troubling. Religion is largely responsible for conditioning us to believe our species is somehow "above" others, but the fact is that we, too, are animals. We act selfishly, as any other animal does, but we have gone to extremes to disguise that selfishness as, say, "what's in the best interest of the child" in divorce cases. Every other species would love to be in our bipedal shoes, able to limit mortality factors like predators, parasites, and diseases, while eliminating competition for resources and distributing itself widely over an infinite variety of habitats.

So, while it is certainly an extremist notion to suggest that the planet Earth would be better off without Homo sapiens, it is at least somewhat encouraging to see that we might be approaching a consciousness of "species equality." Even if this does not mean granting "rights" to other species, we are guaranteed in the U.S. the right to the "pursuit of happiness." Those of us whose happiness is found in nature are now deprived on one more gorilla.

The fact is that whatever our opinion of this tragic episode, we are going to have personal blank spots. Not everyone knows what it is like to be a zookeeper. Not everyone is a parent. Nobody knows what it is like to be a gorilla in captivity.

A Zoo With a View

I would never have known about the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo were it not for my girlfriend, who works as a zookeeper there. This remarkable attraction advertises itself as the only truly mountain zoo in the United States, and it lives up to that billing. Sitting literally on the side of Cheyenne Mountain at an elevation of 6, 800 feet, it offers a panoramic view of Colorado Springs and the plains that stretch beyond the city.

It must be one of the oldest zoos in western North America, too, founded in 1926 by mining mogul Spencer Penrose. He incorporated the facility in 1938 as a non-profit public trust. This is another unique aspect of the zoo: it is privately run and takes no tax dollars for its operation, relying solely on admissions, memberships, donations and grants for its existence and continuing expansion.

The zoo hosts over 1, 000 animals representing nearly 200 species. Some of these are seasonal exhibits, such as the alligators, but thirty-one are participants in global Species Survival Plans. The zoo is best known for its herd of giraffes. These tall animals are a real attraction that visitors can feed from elevated boardwalks around the exhibit. Their popularity sometimes causes....well, “giraffe-ic jams.”

The zoo views are more than scenic, though you can take the “Mountaineer Sky Ride, ” a ski-lift style incline, for the ultimate experience. The zig-zag pedestrian pathways between exhibits allow one to often have a nearly 360 degree view of some of the animals. I was startled to find myself only a few feet from a Mountain Goat just below me when I was watching a magpie in its enclosure.

Maintaining accreditation with the Association of Zoos and Aquariums is a constant challenge given the age of many of the enclosures and the buildings that house still other exhibits, but progress is both steady and obvious. A brand new elephant barn and vastly expanded outdoor yard are nearing completion as I write this. Zoo officials were hoping to debut the new digs by now, but concern for the safety and acclimatization of the pachyderms means the grand opening will be delayed.

The zoo administrators are endlessly creative in fundraising. One example is the “Round Up for Elephants” that allows patrons of the zoo restaurant and other concessions to round up their purchase price with the extra change going to finishing the new exhibit. The zoo thus makes it easy for you to make a difference.

Yet another interesting facet of the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo is that some of the wildlife is not in cages. Native Golden-mantled Ground Squirrels have run of the place, when they can avoid becoming the prey of weasels. Deer make regular appearances on the grounds. Bears are problematic and unwanted guests that dumpster-dive after hours. Magpies scrounge for scraps from the captive animals. A Golden Eagle soared overhead just last week. Hummingbirds, as well as butterflies, bees, and other insects visit the many native flowers planted as part of the landscaping. I am working with two zookeepers to draft a list of all these species. Invertebrates included, it already tops 200 species.

Zookeepers and curators are constantly striving to create new enrichment opportunities for their captive charges, inventing new ways to enhance the mental and physical health of creatures that normally range unfettered for miles in their native habitats. Their caring attention shows. The animals are in beautiful condition.

The zoo does not settle for the standard fair of keeper talks and summer camps, either. Many special events highlight the year, including this month’s “Boo at the Zoo,” and the ever-popular “Electric Safari,” celebrating its 20th anniversary this holiday season.

I am looking forward to learning more about the zoo, and maybe even helping to integrate more invertebrate wildlife into their collection. It is difficult to not want to be a part of something that brings so much joy to visitors, and helps insure the continued survival of endangered species.

For more information, please see the web site for the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, as well as their blog, ”In Between the Spots.” Follow the zoo on Twitter and “like” it on Facebook. Most of all, do visit, become a member, or otherwise participate in more than the virtual zoo. You’ll be glad you did.

Meet Heidi Genter

Since first meeting Heidi Genter in person, in the Denver airport, about the only times I don’t feel “misplaced” are by her side or in her arms. She has become the love of my life, endlessly supportive yet remaining the strong, independent woman that she is. I am very fortunate to have found someone so compatible and truly delightful.

We have tried to trace the origins of our friendship and it definitely started on Facebook. That sounds like a cliché, I know, but that social network can hold some wonderful surprises for those who take the plunge. Near as we can tell, Heidi and I both “liked” the Bugguide page on Facebook, and things just went from there. Who cares who contacted who first, if the results can be like this?

Heidi knows for certain that we started talking nightly on the telephone on April 9, 2010. She has an inclusive phone plan that allows for unlimited long distance calls. We are both bummed by Daylight Savings Time, since that means she is one hour ahead of me.

Heidi lives in Colorado Springs, Colorado, where she has worked as a keeper of the great apes at Cheyenne Mountain Zoo for 17 years. She also works part-time as an usher for concerts and other entertainment events at various city arenas and venues. Devoted to her Lutheran church, she sings in the choir and plays in the hand bell choir, too.

Heidi enjoys geocaching as a way to get into the great outdoors, venturing out nearly every weekend with a trio of friends. A gifted and talented artist, Heidi renders animals and other subjects in watercolor, selling some of her pieces through Café Press. She also created and produces an annual zoo fundraiser called “Art on the Hoof” that has been a great success. Heidi has a pet dog, two birds, a corn snake, and wolf spider at last count.

We finally met in person in Denver, on October 13, 2010. I had been invited by another friend, Abigail Parker, to go to Cape May, New Jersey to watch birds during the fall migration. Abby mentioned we would stay at her parents’ beach house in Ocean City, and that there was room for more people. I invited Heidi, but was truly surprised when she agreed to go. I am very respectful of her morals and beliefs, and would have understood completely if she had felt that this was just not the proper way to initiate a relationship, lodging in the same house when we were essentially still strangers. Her willingness to stretch her boundaries to accommodate opportunities like this is one of Heidi’s most attractive qualities.

We had a spectacular time leisurely strolling on the Ocean City boardwalk, snapping pictures of birds at Cape May Point State Park, and ending the day with a tub of Johnson’s Popcorn caramel corn and cuddling on the couch. Neither of us dreamed that we would hit it off so well, but were delighted. By the end of the trip, enjoying genuine cheesesteaks in Abby’s hometown of Philadelphia, we knew we had something to build on.

Home again in our respective cities, we decided we needed to see each other again soon. Heidi decided to use some of her precious vacation time to come to Tucson for New Year’s. Unfortunately, she brought the cold weather with her, and we darn near froze on our New Year’s Eve visit to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. That evening we had dinner and took in a comedy show at Laffs Comedy Club. New Year’s Day we went hiking in the Sabino Canyon Recreation Area, where Heidi found at least three geocaches. We saw plenty of birds and a trio of deer, too.

January second we went to the Sweetwater Wetlands and saw many more birds, enjoying the slightly warming weather. Heidi departed the evening of January third, but not before we took in the Butterfly Magic exhibit at the Tucson Botanical Gardens. Somewhere in all of this we also managed to play pool with Leigh Anne DelRay and her husband David Crowell. Leigh Anne gave her seal of approval to Heidi and I, which I really take to heart.

Most recently, Heidi went to southern California for a workshop on Imperiled Butterfly Conservation & Management. One of Heidi’s self-appointed responsibilities through the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo is the conservation of the Pawnee Montane Skipper, and her involvement with its recovery includes a series of workshops where colleagues share their methods and practices. I came out to meet Heidi at the conclusion of the workshop, and we stayed with her uncle Dale and his wife Beth in Carpinteria. Another great time was had by all, and we were really grateful for Dale and Beth’s hospitality.

Heidi and I have plans to meet in Chicago for an upcoming family reunion (her side), then I will check out Colorado Springs in preparation to move there this fall. We both move through life at the same pace, and I really think that is why we get along so well and believe that our relationship will endure. Thank you, Sweetheart, for all that you are.

Animals and Insects?

I’ve always been amused by the phrase “men, women, and children.” Are children a different gender? I can still vividly recall an exchange I had with a couple that revealed we are also collectively prone to consider insects outside the boundaries of the rest of the animal kingdom.

The Cincinnati Zoo and Botanical Garden was hosting an evening gala to celebrate the Major League Baseball All-Star Game, held in the Queen City that year. The majority of guests were VIPs of one sort or another. During such events, the staff of the insectarium sometimes circulated with a “bouquet” of walkingstick insects acting as ambassadors of the arthropod fauna exhibited at the zoo. Other keepers paraded around with more cute and cuddly creatures. That evening was no exception.

One gentleman approached me wondering who the flowers were for. I pointed out the large, camouflaged insects, and he was incredulous.

”That’s an animal?” he asked in disbelief.

”Yes, sir” I replied. He beckoned his wife over.

”Honey, come take a look at this.” She dutifully inspected the floral arrangement as her husband gestured toward the walkingsticks.

”Oh, my!” she said, with more fascination than fear in her voice.

”That’s an insect?” she inquired.

”Yes, ma’am” I respectfully concurred. Her husband was taken aback.

”But you just told me that’s an animal!”

That night I learned the true depth of public ignorance about insects. It is not necessarily a failing of John or Jane Doe, either. This gentleman was obviously successful, probably wealthy, and no doubt well-educated, too. No, this kind of misunderstanding represents a failure of educators to properly communicate the very basics of the natural world. It also represents the abdication of responsibility of the media to balance truth with sensationalism and fear-mongering.

Educators need more informal platforms for interpreting the natural world for the public and promoting "nature literacy." We need professional educators, too, not just volunteers and docents. This continues to be a low priority at museums, zoos, nature centers, even national and state parks. Most naturalists I know are behind a desk pushing papers, and training docents to do the public relations.

Meanwhile, pest control services, and the manufacturers of pesticides, capitalize (quite literally) on the lack of public knowledge about insects and arachnids, and their place in the natural world. Truth in advertising appears to be nearly non-existent in most television commercials promoting the latest product or treatment.

Hm-m-m-m, maybe I’ll approach the Ad Council and ask for “equal time.”