Life at the Zoo

by Phillip T. Robinson

  Fortunately, animal enrichment is a flourishing discipline in zoos and many zoos are employing people as “enrichment specialists.” Some of the contemporary work in this area was initiated by Dr. Hal Markowitz at the Portland Zoo in the 1970s, with the stated objective of giving captive animals “more control over their own lives.” Some found his techniques “unnatural,” tending to focus on interactions with humans rather than encouraging social intercourse within their own species. One project, for example, had mandrill monkeys playing computer games with zoo visitors. Markowitz’s reply to this criticism was, “We owe it to them to make the best possible life for them. . . . There was a feeling that what we did was unnatural . . . but everything about the existence of captive animals is unnatural.” Unconventional types of behavioral stimulation, Markowitz seemed to suggest, are often better than none at all.

  The primary job of enrichment staff is to provide zoo animals with a wide variety of activities, ranging from toys, trampolines, swinging ropes, novel diets, and food puzzles, such as pushing a peanut reward through a maze. In many ways this job resembles that of the recreation director on a cruise ship, devising creative ways to occupy the leisure time of the ship’s passengers. Some animals respond to unenriched confinement by reclusive or aggressive reactions to the presence of humans or roommates. With some species, where visual cues play a critical role in social etiquette, visual barriers can be vital to providing relief from the constant forced interaction with their more dominant group members. Enrichment may involve food, foraging activities, novel objects, and opportunities to exercise or engage in nest-building activities (a common daily ritual among great apes in nature). For many species, one of the best forms of enrichment is the chance to engage in social activities with compatible individuals of their own species. On the other hand, putting in the wrong animal can be as terrifying as acquiring Silence of the Lambs’ Hannibal Lecter or Misery’s Annie as your new roommate. As one down-to-earth keeper bluntly put it when discussing the aggressive tendencies of one of the solitary male primates, “All he needs is a woman!”

  Animals can be taught many behaviors that can facilitate their health care, including cooperating to allow ultrasound imaging, blood collection, semen collection, and artificial insemination. The typical training methods utilize operant conditioning procedures, whereby patient, systematic, positive reinforcement techniques are employed to modify animals’ responses to aversive stimuli (such as proximity, novel situations, and social groups). A diabetic drill was managed for years at the San Diego Zoo by positive training that permitted the regular testing of her blood sugar levels, as well as her insulin administration. Cooperative behaviors permit zoo animals to participate in their own health management, and they can reduce the need for physical handling and sedative procedures.

  The best-known zoo animal behaviorist was the late Dr. Heini Hediger, who was also the director of the Leipzig Zoo in Germany. Hediger wrote several books and numerous papers on the behavior of zoo animals, His findings became an early basis for considering the psychological, as well as the physical, welfare of animals in captivity. Students of animal behavior and zoo employees in general can gain much from his perspectives about keeping animals healthy in zoos, for the stresses that captive animals experience often turns into physical disease if not ameliorated. Two of his most notable publications, Wild Animals in Captivity (1950) and The Psychology and Behavior of Animals in Circuses and Zoos (1955), have been translated from German and reprinted for widespread use in behavioral science classes. Hediger was a strong proponent of zoo research that improved the understanding of factors that compromised the successful keeping of animals in captivity.

  Several zoos are doing a fair amount of work on environmental enrichment in order to provide for exercise, mental stimulation, and a sense of well-being for zoo animals. Since boredom and inactivity are such prevalent issues facing any creature’s confinement, too much emphasis cannot be placed on occupational therapy. This promotes conditions conducive to the exhibition of animals that interact more normally within their social groups and reproduce. No one imagines that nature can be truly replicated in the zoo, but attention to environmental enrichment can significantly improve animals’ mental and physical well-being in ways that many zoos did not always strive to do. Animals need a variety of foods, bedding materials, play objects, and opportunities for displaying and exercising their innate physical capabilities, such as climbing, digging, running, and swimming.

  Exhibit makers need to make displays that are appealing to the public in order to attract repeat visitations and new donors. There is a relentless search for exhibit activities that make animal-visitor interactions more politically correct—something a little less carnival than a pony, camel, or elephant ride. Since traditional education seems stiff to a significant number of visitors, the Indianapolis and Fort Worth zoos now opt to call it “edzootainment”—nonfattening education, or soft-sell learning without the term papers and final exams. I also like the term “edventure,” used at the Roger Williams Park Zoo in Providence, Rhode Island. The following blurb from one zoo’s web site appeals to the Camp Granada spirit in all of us: “Monster BUGS! Exhibit—The Monster BUGS exhibit continues to be one of the most popular attractions at the Zoo. This exhibit will stay through December and is presented by Arab Termite & Pest Control.” Wanting to appear hip and fun-loving, there is “Big Al”—“The star of this summer’s sea lion keeper chats is Big Al, the zoo’s male California sea lion. At more than 1,000 pounds, this magnificent marine mammal is a huge, impressive and extremely interesting fellow whose antics are sure to delight zoo visitors. Although different sea lions will be featured at different times for keeper chats, we will be sure to have Big Al available for the 12:45 P.M. daily sea lion demonstration.” For the more intellectually inclined there is “Giraffe Feeding—As the weather warms up, limited numbers of zoo visitors have the chance to hand feed giraffes with fruits and vegetables by going out on a specially-designed platform that is built into the giraffe exhibit.” And for the unaware or nearsighted, there is “Elephant Awareness Week, June 26–July 4—Dedicated to the world’s largest land animal, Elephant Awareness Week gives zoo visitors the opportunity to see these huge pachyderms exhibit a wide range of their natural behaviors.”

  Meanwhile, at the Artis Zoo in Amsterdam, Holland, programs to reach out to the public have broken new ground in order to relate to all niches of society. Special walking tours and lectures are available for the adult and gay and lesbian communities for the purpose of reassuring them that all lifestyles can be found in the animal kingdom. Among the featured exhibits are flamingoes, where it is pointed out that group orgies are the norm, a chimpanzee that keepers have concluded is lesbian, and a pair of allegedly gay monkeys. According to the zoo director, Dr. Maarten Frankenhuis, “The idea behind it is to show that homosexuality is a natural phenomenon. . . . We get mostly gay people and mothers with their sons after they’ve just come out.” The tours are available by appointment only and cost the equivalent of $12.

  Naming new zoo facilities and exhibits is more in the realm of the public relations and marketing people, and is ordinarily out of the scope of veterinary and even curatorial decision making. Names have to project favorable images and sound appealing, like new housing developments such as the stereotypical Rustic Oak Estates, Meadowbrook Pointe, and Emerald Hill Farms. It was always interesting to overhear these peculiar debates, but as long as the exhibit works for the animals, what they called it wasn’t much of my concern.

  As an exhibit project is developing, it’s inevitable that some kind of name will finally be agreed upon, and such was the case with the costly monorail tour train ride that was built for San Diego’s country zoo, the San Diego Wild Animal Park. This facility opened in 1972, the same year I arrived at the zoo, and after much debate the monorail was finally dubbed the Wgasa (pronounced Wah-Gah’-Sah) Bush Line Railroad, a name visioning a rustic safari train that traveled the game-rich savann
a wilds of East Africa. Its naming had been problematic from its inception, and it was referred to by many different titles, eluding a consensus by the project’s design team.

  A member of that team, Charles Faust, was architect and chief designer for the Zoo and Wild Animal Park. A salty, talented, Air Force veteran who had flown B-16 bombers in World War II, Charlie was a splendid artist in his own right and drew beautiful sketches of wildlife on several East African safaris in the late 1960s in preparation for the conceptual design of the Wild Animal Park. His large, pictorial sand castings of San Diego history and wildlife still decorate the walls of prominent San Diego businesses and public places. Charlie’s blunt, dry humor made him an enjoyable conversationalist, and I often stopped by his office near the zoo maintenance shop to chat over a cup of coffee. I always mused over his eclectic office decorations, which included jars of bird feathers, models of zoo exhibits, dangling replicas of military airplanes, and a cardboard mockup of the instrument panel of a Superfortress bomber once used for training wartime pilots.

  Charlie made no bones about other zoo people and some of their ideas that irritated him; he never suffered fools gladly. Ordinarily the resident cynic and humorist in any group, he had become bored by the lack of agreement in the naming the park’s new tour train. While everyone else seemed hung up on finding the perfect title, Charlie was more interested in making the design work. One day, in yet another train meeting, after continued nominal malaise, Charlie was observed doodling the initials WGASA on a drawing in front of him and someone asked, “What’s that?” Charlie replied, “You folks can’t agree on a name that makes you happy, so let’s just give it a name that sounds African, and let it go at that—it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference what it means.” The group stared at Charlie, and at one another, until someone said, “What’s that you’ve written on the plan?” Charlie turned his drawing around and replied, “WGASA—let’s call it the WGASA Bush Line Railroad.” Eyes lit up with relief and approval, and someone said, “Wow, that does sound really African, Charlie—I recommend that we go with the name.” And finally it was done.

  Later, a zoo trustee came to Charlie and asked, “By the way, Charlie, what does WGASA really mean?” He just smiled and replied, “Who Gives A S—Anyway?”

  Surgical theater at the Jennings Center for Zoological Medicine, San Diego Zoo, 1977

  John Ball Zoo chimpanzee exhibit

  Busch Gardens’ Great Ape Domain exhibit

  Please Do Not

  Annoy, torment,

  pester, plague,

  molest, worry,

  badger, harry,

  persecute, irk,

  bullyrag, vex,

  disquiet, grate,

  beset, bother,

  tease, nettle,

  tantalize or ruffle

  the Animals.

  Northern Trail exhibit at the Woodland Park Zoo

  Woodland Park Zoo gorilla exhibit

  Woodland Park Zoo Bornean orangutan exhibit

  Sumatran Tiger Forest at Zoo Atlanta

  7. CREATURE COMFORT

  The Power of Microenvironments

  One of the most remarkable lessons about keeping animals in captivity is the enormous difference that tiny embellishments in living accommodations can make in their ability to thrive. Just as there was probably a statistically greater survival rate for prehistoric humans whose cave dwellings were oriented to the warming rays of the morning sun, so do seemingly minor improvements provide significant benefits for the comfort and prosperity of zoo animals.

  In my home state of Michigan, we had some little tricks to getting a car started in subzero weather. One of the simplest ones was simply to place a hundred-watt light bulb under the hood of the car at night. This small heat source from a single bulb made a vast difference in the ease of starting a car on a frigid morning. The significance of this idea always stuck with me as I looked at zoo animals placed in the environments that we provided. Even subtle changes in wind, cold, heat, and solar exposure can have profound effects on how animals fare.

  Good medicine—for people and animals alike—involves eliminating a multitude of small problems in order to bring cumulative benefits to a patient. Simple tweaks that can be made in animal husbandry improve the vitality and well-being of animals in many underappreciated ways. Animal environmental science, the engineering technology that promotes efficient livestock production, takes into account the physical and the psychological worlds that agricultural species encounter. The productivity of the livestock industry often depends on a combination of seemingly minor, but collectively significant, techniques for housing, handling, and feeding animals.

  Investments in sound management practices have been shown, overwhelmingly, to improve the economy of livestock farming practices worldwide. For example, adjusting the dimensions of a pig farrowing (birthing) pen by a matter of a few inches can dramatically enhance the survival rate of baby pigs, keeping them from being accidentally crushed by their mothers. The traffic-flow pattern and consistency of procedures in milking parlors affect overall milk production in a dairy herd. Some cows have a significant drop in milk production if they are not in a particular order, in line with other familiar cows when they file in for milking. In some agricultural species, seemingly minor adjustments in light cycles and temperature make significant differences in weight gain, feed conversion efficiency, and fertility.

  Unlike zoo animals, humans have a wide range of options to seek shade, shelter, heat, and other accommodations. We automatically buffer ourselves from much of the variation in our daily environments; if we are hot we remove clothing, if we are cold we add it, and so on. In Southern California there is a pervasive illusion that weather is universally mild. This notion is so ingrained into the culture that people often attempt to go without wearing jackets when the winter temperatures drop into the forties. Schoolchildren wear shorts and T-shirts to school in temperatures that would cause Iowa kids to put on long pants and sweaters. We have become so accustomed to having options to make ourselves comfortable that it is a stretch for most people to consider seriously how daily and seasonal variations place stress upon animals. And zoos are no exception.

  When San Diego Wild Animal Park was first constructed, the accommodations for elephants amounted to a Stonehenge-like megalith built of sprayed concrete, having the appearance of several freestanding walls with a high roof balanced between them. This Flintstonian piece of architecture came about upon the instructions of Dr. Charles Schroeder, who played a visionary role in the development of the park, even to the point of pounding stakes in the ground where he intended many of its features to be erected. We took up the elephant housing at a zoo health meeting, since the shelter was inadequate in wintertime—for even in sunny Southern California, it can be windy and cold. Schroeder was a convincing advocate for the park and an enchanting conversationalist about zoo history. The Wild Animal Park was his pride and joy, and because we realized his sensitivities about the park’s facilities and the emotional equity he had in its design, we did not deal lightly with the subject of cold elephants. True to form, as he sat down at the health meeting and noted that “Cold Elephants at WAP” was on the agenda, his face began to contort in anticipation. Accustomed to addressing first the agenda items that concerned him most, Schroeder sat painfully through the pathologist’s report about the animal mortalities of note and then immediately moved the “elephant problem” to the top of the meeting. “Now what is this nonsense about cold elephants at the Wild Animal Park?” he groused, looking around for the culprit who had added it to the meeting agenda. (The veterinarians, again.) “Before we discuss this, I want to tell you all something about elephants that you might not know. When I was in British East Africa, I heard of elephants walking in the snow on Mt. Kilimanjaro! Imagine!” (Schroeder loved one-word sentences ending with dramatic pauses and exclamation points.) Raising his hands in frustration, he continued, “Now how on earth did someone come to the conclusion that we need to do wh
at—build a barn to keep them warm? Do you know how much that would cost? And then you couldn’t see the elephants well at all.” The response was simple: the animals were shivering in the cold. I could hardly believe that a longtime veterinarian would question the necessity of keeping elephants warm, but then I realized that, for the moment, he was wearing his visionary hat, not his old veterinary coveralls. The park had been a huge financial drain on the zoo in the beginning, and here was one more money pit that he would have to find a way to shovel dollars into. The enthusiasm about the Zoological Society’s new park had already begun to create a rift in the two keeper staffs—those in the new park taking the view that their mission was more natural and avant-garde than that of the “old zoo” in the city, and the old zoo’s keepers feeling that the Wild Animal Park was sucking the zoo dry with its endless costs. First reactions aside, after the shock of a new project obligation passed, Schroeder conceded to shelter the elephants, and he found the money to do so. Before long, an elephant barn was on the planning boards, but now with a mini-arena to host the public to displays of elephant’s physical abilities. In true Schroeder fashion, he made the added financial burden into a new park attraction.