A Zoo Man's Notebook, 2025

[Strathmorezoo]

I’ve only had the opportunity to work with two species of crane over the course of my career, both probably the two most common zoo cranes.

Firstly, there was the gray crowned crane, worked with at two facilities – one an AZA zoo as a volunteer, the other as a keeper at a non-AZA zoo. Strangely, I really don’t have many memories of the species at either zoo. In each they were in a mixed-species exhibit with gazelles (a trend that I’ve since come to dislike – I feel like crowned cranes, as the most arboreal of cranes, are the species which would benefit the most from being in enclosed aviaries to allow them to perch in trees). Mostly, I just remember that the crane at the AZA facility zoo had lost its mate before I arrived, and had been given a mirror for companionship, enrichment – and I mostly remember that because that exhibit was home to a very spunky gazelle, and I appreciated having the mirror so I could keep an eye behind me as I raked. In appearance, behavior, anatomy, crowned cranes strike me as the least-crane-like of the cranes – at the very least, they have short beaks less-adept at stabbing people, which is certainly something I’ve come to appreciate in a crane following my experiences with the other species.

I’ve worked with sandhill cranes at two zoos as well, one AZA, one non-AZA (different from the crowned crane facilities). They’re a ubiquitous bird in zoos, hardy, easily cared for, and, seeing as they are native to so much of the country, easily incorporated into native wildlife exhibits. The non-AZA zoo kept their pair in a grassy yard; the AZA zoo kept their pair on a marshy yard with a natural creek running through it. Both provided the birds with some opportunities for natural foraging of small prey, though obviously more-so with the birds that had a more natural habitat with fish, frogs, crayfish, etc. swimming through all the time. The majority of the diet at both facilities was Mazuri Crane, served ad lib in a metal hanging feeder, similar to those I’ve used for swans. At the AZA zoo, I usually tossed one or two capelin, or a handful of superworms, every day as a supplemental treat.

What I mostly remember about sandhill cranes is their aggression. I’ve heard it said that if you put all of the world’s cranes together in one massive flock, the majority of them would be sandhills. The truth is, if you put all of the world’s cranes in one flock, depending on the time of year, you’d soon just have two cranes left. While they can gather in enormous congregations in the wild for migration (if you haven’t seen the sandhill crane migration, make a point of doing so before you die – it’s breathtaking), when breeding season comes the cranes become savagely aggressive. At the non-AZA zoo, we shifted the pair into a chicken-wire side pen to service their yard. At the AZA zoo, we worked freely with them – but I never went into that yard without a rake to keep the male crane at bay.

View attachment 768449
Stormin' Norman, coming up for an inspection

That aggression extended to any bird that even resembled a sandhill crane. Ducks and geese were tolerated. Other birds might not be. The AZA zoo was home to a large, natural rookery of great blue herons, and in the nesting season the trees were full of big birds flying overhead, resembling pterosaurs more than birds. Every year, we’d see lots of recently fledged juveniles walking around the zoo, just booted from the nest and trying to learn how to be herons. And every year, one of those poor sods would wander into the sandhill crane exhibit – and wouldn’t wander out. The brutal execution of the interloper, who usually had no idea he was in danger until our male unleashed his fury upon him, would inevitably take place in front of a large group of schoolchildren. Kind of amazed we never had a YouTube moment…

School groups were fascinated by the cranes, especially their bugling calls and dances (the pair at the AZA zoo was a mother and son. The female was unnamed. I called the male Norman, after Norman Bates. Not only was he a bit of a psycho but… let’s just say he loved his mother). The male especially loved to do his dance right next to the fence, leaping up and calling. Sometimes, he came down on the wrong side of the fence. He was probably our most common animal escape at that facility. If he got loose on the creek side of the habitat, we’d often just keep an eye on him and catch him up after we closed for the day – his desire to remain close to the female kept him from going far, and he sometimes even jumped back in on his own. Once in a while, however, he’d land in the public area. Then, I’d turn around to see what the commotion was, only to see a horde of children running for their lives, while Norman would run after them, making his manic, laughing call, his mother calling back with encouragement from her side of the fence.

At the time I worked at that AZA zoo, the other (usual) North American crane, the whooping crane, was quite a rarity in zoos – I’d only seen one once before. While I was there, however, the whooping crane breeding project at Patuxent NWR was halted by the Federal government, which led to a flood of facilities taking on whooping cranes. Now, whoopers are among the most common cranes in zoos. While I was still at that zoo, we made tentative plans to phase our sandhills out for whooping cranes after Norman and his mother passed away. I did, however, make sure to note we’d need a taller fence.

Great post, enjoyed the humour

 

[Osedax]

They’re a ubiquitous bird in zoos,

... In the United States. I can't imagine Sandhill Cranes being that common outside of North America, though I'm happy to be proven wrong. Over here in Australia, our most common crane is the Brolga, as it is also the only crane in our zoos.

 

[Great Argus]

... In the United States. I can't imagine Sandhill Cranes being that common outside of North America, though I'm happy to be proven wrong. Over here in Australia, our most common crane is the Brolga, as it is also the only crane in our zoos.

There are a good handful in Europe, but none elsewhere I believe. Certainly not as widespread as a few other species such as Gray-crowned.
Rather surprised to see there aren't any Sarus Cranes in Aussie zoos, given the species is reasonably widespread in the northeast.

 

[Aardwolf]

Exhibit design and collection planning are some of my favorite aspects of zoo work, and the ability to participate in these projects are what really drove me to seek advancement in the field. It seemed like all of my hopes paid off when, at one small zoo, the director asked me to assist in the design of a new reptile house. Sure, the footprint was locked and it was small, the staff was small so I was limited in how many exhibits I could fit, and the budget was hardly expansive. Still, I did have free rein (within reason) to pick species for it. I was only given one clear directive – “I want a big ass snake,” the director said. “Big ass.”

Large constrictors are some of the true stars of reptile collections, and it’s not a surprise that almost every zoo – even those with the smallest of reptile collections – manage to find room for an exhibit (or at least an exhibit… sometimes it’s debatable if there truly is “room” or not). Today, I’ll look at the big pythons. I’ve worked with reticulated pythons at 1 AZA, 1 non AZA, Indian rock python at 1 AZA, Burmese python at 1 AZA and 3 non AZA, and African rock python at 1 non AZA (African rocks are sometimes split into two species, so no idea which one it was at the time). We’ll look at boas another time (though much of what I say here applies to them as well).

The most common question visitors often ask about working with snakes is what and how do we feed them (followed, usually, by “can they watch?). Diet at most of these zoos consisted of rabbits or chickens, with some of the smaller specimens I’ve worked with still on rats (outside of a reptile breeder expo, I’ve never seen a very young individual of any of these species). The AZA zoos invariably fed pre-killed prey, usually purchased frozen from Rodent Pro or some such vendor. One non-AZA fed their Burmese frozen/thawed as well. The other two usually fed live. And not just any live – a keeper would go to the rabbit hutch or chicken coop exhibits and select an animal (sometimes we’d all go and argue about who to feed out to make sure no one’s favorite rabbit or chicken was fed) – in the case of the chickens, there was almost always a particularly mean rooster than no one was sorry to see go. Stillborn goat kids or lambs were also fair game for snake food.

This was in my younger days, and these days I’m much less in favor of feeding snakes live prey, unless it’s needed to jumpstart the appetite of an animal that’s been doing poorly. Live feeding in some cases – such as fish in a pool, or insects, can provide enrichment and exercise for some animals, while providing live prey for animals slated for reintroduction is good practice of the basics of catching and killing prey. Putting live prey in with a python today just strikes me as lazy and sensationalist. A warm prey animal (towards the end of my time there, I took to dispatching the prey animal myself prior to feeding it to save it from unnecessary trauma and, in the case of rodents, risk of injury to the snake) and a good pair of sturdy tongs will achieve the same effect for the snake, behaviorally and nutritionally.

The resultant snake poops, of course, were massive, with black boluses that reminded me of pool balls and clump of white urate. They also smelled pretty foul, which made one grateful that snakes don’t poop that often. The big snakes ate every other week or so, slowing down in cool weather, even though we tried to keep their habitats at consistent temperatures.

We also got asked a lot of questions about safety. Working with large pythons poses a safety risk, and it’s important to take precautions. As a rule, I wouldn’t work a snake longer than 8 feet by myself without someone in the room for backup. After that, an extra person for every 5 feet of snake or so (it’s an estimate, not a science, and is in part driven by the snake in question). In the event of a bite, it’s important not to pull, because the recurved teeth of the snake will tear in. I’ve heard some people use a spatula to slide the teeth out – others will use a bucket of water, submerging the snake’s head until it releases to breathe (I once walked in on a colleague who was sitting in a chair reading a magazine casually while his one hand was in a nearby bucket, a particularly truculent Puerto Rican boa latched into it). If the snake throws coils around you… well, this is where the buddy system comes in handy. You may have heard how the muscles that close the jaws of a crocodile or alligator are very strong, but those that open them are very weak, and one person can easily hold the mouth of an alligator shut? It’s similar with large snakes – the musculature of the coils works in one direction. Struggle with the head, you’ll get nowhere. Take the snake by the tail, and it unwraps very easily. Also a useful trick for moving a snake that’s tightly griped on a branch – just unwrap the tail.

I’ve only ever been involved in one large python bite, and it wasn’t me who was bitten. I was cleaning a reptile house at a non-AZA with one new keeper (the same luckless sod who was with me cleaning the condor exhibit when I got bitten, actually) – he was in a Burmese python exhibit, I was prepping some tortoise salads, when I heard him – quite calmly – call for me. I walked over, and he was standing in the middle of the exhibit, with a Burmese python latched onto his calf muscle (no constriction). I walked in, took the snake behind the head, pushed forward, and the teeth slipped off. For a while this keeper was sporting a pattern of tooth marks on his calf in the outline of the snake’s gap – he talked about getting them tattooed, but they were fairly shallow bites, and healed up quickly.

Such bites are very uncommon, and Burmese pythons are excellent ambassador animals – even (or especially) the big ones. Burmese and Indian rocks are both very calm snakes in my experience, easily handled. When going to pick one up, I’ve always approached towards the back, away from the head, then stroked/patted the snake’s side to let it know I’m there. If a snake clenches up or jerks, to me that’s an indication that it’s not up for handling. Then, I pick it up, starting a little further back, but sliding up until I’m near the head, which I support, but don’t grip too tightly, while other keepers support the rest of the snake (I’ve noticed a major difference in handling arboreal vs terrestrial snakes – terrestrial snakes really like more support and don’t like to feel like their dangling, whereas smaller arboreal species will play through your hands like branches). In ambassador situations, we’d put the snake outside and let visitors approach, and, if they wanted, touch the snake (avoiding the head and the tail – many snakes seem ticklish around the tail, and no one wants their cloaca touched, of course).


Education program with a smaller Burmese python - albinos of this species are very common and are very popular as exhibit and ambassador animals.

During one of these education talks in the rural south, I almost got myself in deep trouble when I was talking to a religious school. I showed them the underside of the python, including the residual spurs on either side of the cloaca, and mentioned how snakes had legs, and that these were the remnants. Of course, once the dreaded "E" word (evolution) popped up, many of the parents and teachers begun to hurry away.

Burmese pythons are such chill snakes that, regrettably, there's a tendency for keepers and educators, especially newer ones (thank you Dunning-Kruger effect) to be a little fast and loose with them, acting like they are props, rather than animals, and a little too fond of the shock value (think Britney Spears dancing with her snake).

Reticulateds are less friendly, more nervous than Burmese and Indian rock, in my experience, as well as more active and twitchy. The single African rock I worked with was a monster with an incredibly bad temper, which I’ve been told is not uncommon for those snakes.

Habitats varied in size and complexity, with the best having climbing structures and pools, as well as varied substrates and basking spots. The worst was at one of the non AZA zoos – in my post about the callitrichids, I mentioned that one zoo kept marmosets in what was essentially a closet. Two Burmese pythons were in an identical closet right next door. Big snakes should be able to stretch out in their enclosures – a rough formula I’ve heard is that the length of the snake should be no more than half of the perimeter (for example, if you have an exhibit that’s 6 x 4, that’s a perimeter of 20 feet, so the max size a snake should be 10 feet). I’ve also heard a tank should be no less than 2/3 the length of the snake, or various other formulas. Basically, it comes down to the fact the big snakes often don’t have habitats as large as they should to allow proper movement and behavior, including thermoregulation (a snake should have a warm end and cool end of the tank, and you can’t achieve that effect if the ends of the tank are practically the same place.



One final big snake story – my old director wasn’t the only one who wanted a “big ass” snake. At a large AZA zoo reptile house, the curator was constantly on the search for a big snake to be our star, our centerpiece – so when he got an offer for a giant snake (in this case it was a green anaconda, but a python would have been just as acceptable) three hours away, he was immediately hooked. The owner claimed the snake was 28 feet long – a python of that length would have been an amazing animal, almost worthy of the financial reward that the Bronx Zoo has had in place for years for a snake over 30 feet long – and an anaconda? Those are proportionately so much more massive than pythons, it would have been a beast to behold. So, the entire reptile staff loaded up in a van and drove three hours to get the snake… except for me, the new guy, who was left in charge of the entire building all day by myself. I was just finishing the morning routine when I got a text from one of the keepers (the same unfortunate fellow who’d gotten a Galapagos tortoise bite described in an earlier post): “15 foot max. We’re on the way back.”

Seriously, it’s like the guy didn’t think they were going to measure?

 

[Strathmorezoo]

Exhibit design and collection planning are some of my favorite aspects of zoo work, and the ability to participate in these projects are what really drove me to seek advancement in the field. It seemed like all of my hopes paid off when, at one small zoo, the director asked me to assist in the design of a new reptile house. Sure, the footprint was locked and it was small, the staff was small so I was limited in how many exhibits I could fit, and the budget was hardly expansive. Still, I did have free rein (within reason) to pick species for it. I was only given one clear directive – “I want a big ass snake,” the director said. “Big ass.”

Large constrictors are some of the true stars of reptile collections, and it’s not a surprise that almost every zoo – even those with the smallest of reptile collections – manage to find room for an exhibit (or at least an exhibit… sometimes it’s debatable if there truly is “room” or not). Today, I’ll look at the big pythons. I’ve worked with reticulated pythons at 1 AZA, 1 non AZA, Indian rock python at 1 AZA, Burmese python at 1 AZA and 3 non AZA, and African rock python at 1 non AZA (African rocks are sometimes split into two species, so no idea which one it was at the time). We’ll look at boas another time (though much of what I say here applies to them as well).

The most common question visitors often ask about working with snakes is what and how do we feed them (followed, usually, by “can they watch?). Diet at most of these zoos consisted of rabbits or chickens, with some of the smaller specimens I’ve worked with still on rats (outside of a reptile breeder expo, I’ve never seen a very young individual of any of these species). The AZA zoos invariably fed pre-killed prey, usually purchased frozen from Rodent Pro or some such vendor. One non-AZA fed their Burmese frozen/thawed as well. The other two usually fed live. And not just any live – a keeper would go to the rabbit hutch or chicken coop exhibits and select an animal (sometimes we’d all go and argue about who to feed out to make sure no one’s favorite rabbit or chicken was fed) – in the case of the chickens, there was almost always a particularly mean rooster than no one was sorry to see go. Stillborn goat kids or lambs were also fair game for snake food.

This was in my younger days, and these days I’m much less in favor of feeding snakes live prey, unless it’s needed to jumpstart the appetite of an animal that’s been doing poorly. Live feeding in some cases – such as fish in a pool, or insects, can provide enrichment and exercise for some animals, while providing live prey for animals slated for reintroduction is good practice of the basics of catching and killing prey. Putting live prey in with a python today just strikes me as lazy and sensationalist. A warm prey animal (towards the end of my time there, I took to dispatching the prey animal myself prior to feeding it to save it from unnecessary trauma and, in the case of rodents, risk of injury to the snake) and a good pair of sturdy tongs will achieve the same effect for the snake, behaviorally and nutritionally.

The resultant snake poops, of course, were massive, with black boluses that reminded me of pool balls and clump of white urate. They also smelled pretty foul, which made one grateful that snakes don’t poop that often. The big snakes ate every other week or so, slowing down in cool weather, even though we tried to keep their habitats at consistent temperatures.

We also got asked a lot of questions about safety. Working with large pythons poses a safety risk, and it’s important to take precautions. As a rule, I wouldn’t work a snake longer than 8 feet by myself without someone in the room for backup. After that, an extra person for every 5 feet of snake or so (it’s an estimate, not a science, and is in part driven by the snake in question). In the event of a bite, it’s important not to pull, because the recurved teeth of the snake will tear in. I’ve heard some people use a spatula to slide the teeth out – others will use a bucket of water, submerging the snake’s head until it releases to breathe (I once walked in on a colleague who was sitting in a chair reading a magazine casually while his one hand was in a nearby bucket, a particularly truculent Puerto Rican boa latched into it). If the snake throws coils around you… well, this is where the buddy system comes in handy. You may have heard how the muscles that close the jaws of a crocodile or alligator are very strong, but those that open them are very weak, and one person can easily hold the mouth of an alligator shut? It’s similar with large snakes – the musculature of the coils works in one direction. Struggle with the head, you’ll get nowhere. Take the snake by the tail, and it unwraps very easily. Also a useful trick for moving a snake that’s tightly griped on a branch – just unwrap the tail.

I’ve only ever been involved in one large python bite, and it wasn’t me who was bitten. I was cleaning a reptile house at a non-AZA with one new keeper (the same luckless sod who was with me cleaning the condor exhibit when I got bitten, actually) – he was in a Burmese python exhibit, I was prepping some tortoise salads, when I heard him – quite calmly – call for me. I walked over, and he was standing in the middle of the exhibit, with a Burmese python latched onto his calf muscle (no constriction). I walked in, took the snake behind the head, pushed forward, and the teeth slipped off. For a while this keeper was sporting a pattern of tooth marks on his calf in the outline of the snake’s gap – he talked about getting them tattooed, but they were fairly shallow bites, and healed up quickly.

Such bites are very uncommon, and Burmese pythons are excellent ambassador animals – even (or especially) the big ones. Burmese and Indian rocks are both very calm snakes in my experience, easily handled. When going to pick one up, I’ve always approached towards the back, away from the head, then stroked/patted the snake’s side to let it know I’m there. If a snake clenches up or jerks, to me that’s an indication that it’s not up for handling. Then, I pick it up, starting a little further back, but sliding up until I’m near the head, which I support, but don’t grip too tightly, while other keepers support the rest of the snake (I’ve noticed a major difference in handling arboreal vs terrestrial snakes – terrestrial snakes really like more support and don’t like to feel like their dangling, whereas smaller arboreal species will play through your hands like branches). In ambassador situations, we’d put the snake outside and let visitors approach, and, if they wanted, touch the snake (avoiding the head and the tail – many snakes seem ticklish around the tail, and no one wants their cloaca touched, of course).

View attachment 768837
Education program with a smaller Burmese python - albinos of this species are very common and are very popular as exhibit and ambassador animals.

During one of these education talks in the rural south, I almost got myself in deep trouble when I was talking to a religious school. I showed them the underside of the python, including the residual spurs on either side of the cloaca, and mentioned how snakes had legs, and that these were the remnants. Of course, once the dreaded "E" word (evolution) popped up, many of the parents and teachers begun to hurry away.

Burmese pythons are such chill snakes that, regrettably, there's a tendency for keepers and educators, especially newer ones (thank you Dunning-Kruger effect) to be a little fast and loose with them, acting like they are props, rather than animals, and a little too fond of the shock value (think Britney Spears dancing with her snake).

Reticulateds are less friendly, more nervous than Burmese and Indian rock, in my experience, as well as more active and twitchy. The single African rock I worked with was a monster with an incredibly bad temper, which I’ve been told is not uncommon for those snakes.

Habitats varied in size and complexity, with the best having climbing structures and pools, as well as varied substrates and basking spots. The worst was at one of the non AZA zoos – in my post about the callitrichids, I mentioned that one zoo kept marmosets in what was essentially a closet. Two Burmese pythons were in an identical closet right next door. Big snakes should be able to stretch out in their enclosures – a rough formula I’ve heard is that the length of the snake should be no more than half of the perimeter (for example, if you have an exhibit that’s 6 x 4, that’s a perimeter of 20 feet, so the max size a snake should be 10 feet). I’ve also heard a tank should be no less than 2/3 the length of the snake, or various other formulas. Basically, it comes down to the fact the big snakes often don’t have habitats as large as they should to allow proper movement and behavior, including thermoregulation (a snake should have a warm end and cool end of the tank, and you can’t achieve that effect if the ends of the tank are practically the same place.

View attachment 768849

One final big snake story – my old director wasn’t the only one who wanted a “big ass” snake. At a large AZA zoo reptile house, the curator was constantly on the search for a big snake to be our star, our centerpiece – so when he got an offer for a giant snake (in this case it was a green anaconda, but a python would have been just as acceptable) three hours away, he was immediately hooked. The owner claimed the snake was 28 feet long – a python of that length would have been an amazing animal, almost worthy of the financial reward that the Bronx Zoo has had in place for years for a snake over 30 feet long – and an anaconda? Those are proportionately so much more massive than pythons, it would have been a beast to behold. So, the entire reptile staff loaded up in a van and drove three hours to get the snake… except for me, the new guy, who was left in charge of the entire building all day by myself. I was just finishing the morning routine when I got a text from one of the keepers (the same unfortunate fellow who’d gotten a Galapagos tortoise bite described in an earlier post): “15 foot max. We’re on the way back.”

Seriously, it’s like the guy didn’t think they were going to measure?

Snake bites, particularly by the larger Pythons, can be quite a frightening experience. I've had a few bites but, fortunately only by smaller snakes. However the the incident that I remember (which I have to say made me laugh out loud) happened whilst I was on a phone call to a zoo curator during which I was offering him some Uromastyx microlipes (Dab lizards). I heard a senior keeper shouting my name, I glanced out of my office door and couldn't believe my eyes. A large Burmese Python 12 ft approx) had latched on to his right hand and whilst he was trying to unhook it ,it bit down onto his left hand, both hands were well and truly stuck. I couldn't help myself and burst out laughing. The curator on the phone said what's going on ,what with me laughing and my keeper shouting and swearing, i had to put the phone down, muttering, " you wouldn't believe what I'm seeing " . By this time the Snake had started to throw some coils around him. I picked up a food bin ,emptied the contents on the floor and proceeded with the help of reinforcements to untangle the Snake from my poor keeper and pushed the Snake into the empty bin and promptly put a lid over it. His two hands were quite bloody by this time. He said to me " why were you laughing " ,I said ,if you could have seen the look on your face. We patched his hands up,and I then resumed my conversation with with the curator, who said " that's a first, to have both hands bitten at the same time ",and then he started laughing.

 

[Batto]

Putting live prey in with a python today just strikes me as lazy and sensationalist.

...and illegal, at least according to some countries' animal welfare legislation.

that snakes don’t poop that often.

Unless they are Drymarchon...

In regard to safety: some big pythons can also deliver quite the headbutt - especially when you least expect it.

I have had quite a few similar encounters with indignant big pythons. And yes, retics and both Central & Southern African rock pythons can be pretty prickly at times; almost lost an eye to a retic. Big anacondas ain't fun at times, too. And compared to all of those chunky big snakes, even huge specimens of the amethystine python always come across as Manute Bol next to Shaquille O'Neil.

Seriously, it’s like the guy didn’t think they were going to measure?

Guys like this always hope for a naive buyer not questioning their bovine faeces.

 

[Aardwolf]

What can you say about wolves? On one hand, they are one of the most famous, well-known species. On the other, they have a reputation for being very poor exhibit animals; there’s no “ABC” species that I can think of that visitors are less likely to see on a visit to the zoo. They’re apex predators, but one which is usually worked free contact. Every visitor has heard of them and thinks they know them, but guests often get confused between wolves, foxes, coyotes, and other canids.

I’ve worked with wolves at two zoos – gray wolves (of that white color that often gets passed off as “Arctic wolf”) at a non-AZA zoo, red wolves at an AZA zoo.

By virtue of not being climbers or jumpers and not needing particularly complicated enclosures, wolves are one of the easiest large carnivores to house – you need a large fenced in space with a suitable dig barrier. They may hide all day, but they’ll be happy in there. That, essentially, was the red wolf exhibit that I worked with – a large plot of land, gently slopping with lots of trees and tall brush and den sites – both artificial, built by the staff, and natural, dug by the wolves themselves. Towards the back of the yard was a chain-link holding area, consisting to three pens, each with a nest box and a feeder. The wolves were fed their main diet in here, and often slept in here, so that they could be more easily trapped up (when wolves needed to be caught for procedures, we’d fan out around the exhibit and gradually herd them in here to be locked in).

The gray wolves, in contrast, had a fairly small wire paddock, which was way too open (there were a few pine trees, but tall and straight, and no other ground cover) leaving them almost always on view. Perhaps not surprisingly, the gray wolves were much more neurotic, constantly pacing back and forth, eyes fixed on a public that they were unable to avoid.


"Arctic" wolf. I visited this zoo where I once worked more than 10 years later. Remarkably, the wolves had been moved into an even worse, less stimulating habitat.

(Perhaps it’s because red wolves are all owned by USFWS, and as such their distribution in zoos is more tightly regulated, but I’ve never seen a really bad red wolf exhibit – just like I’ve never seen a really red Mexican gray wolf exhibit. All of the truly awful wolf exhibits I’ve ever seen – including the one I worked in – were for generic gray wolves).

Despite their ravenous reputation for eating, feeding wolves at either zoo was a fairly uninteresting matter. The grays largely got commercial carnivore diet of horse meat. The reds had a feeder filled with Mazuri Exotic Canine which they had constant access too. We also fed them rats, rabbits, and occasionally carcasses. Keepers of red and Mexican grey wolves are generally told to be very hands-off with those animals compared to others in their care as part of the protocols for the release program, even if the wolves that they work with are not slated for release, so we tried to minimize direct association of keepers and food. Perhaps as a result (and also because they didn’t receive training, or enrichment to the same extent that other animals did), the reds were a fair bit more fearful and cautious of us than many of other zoo animals were.

While the grays were limited by the starkness of their habitat, the reds, with their larger, more natural habitat, which attracted native wildlife, were always keen to demonstrate their skills as hunters. Cleaning the exhibit in the morning, I’d sometimes find half a snake… or part of an opossum… or, on one memorable occasion, the wing of a great horned owl, evidence of their kills. One of the keepers once told me that he watched the full pack (the parents and their offspring, which had been dispersed to other zoos before I started there) passing a live duck back and forth, like runners with a baton, running laps around the exhibit.



At the same time, we had white-tailed deer in the exhibit immediately next to the wolves, the two fences separated by a gap of just a few feet – and I’d often see a wolf and a deer standing directly across from each other, curiously sniffing at one another. I called them the forbidden lovers.

If there’s one thing visitors know about wolves, it’s that they howl – and boy, do the visitors try to get a howl from the wolves. So prevalent is it (and annoying, both to humans and animals) that many zoos put up signs asking visitors not to howl at the wolves – and, to be sure, I’ve never heard a wolf howl back at a visitor. The grays would sometimes howl at night, but if there was one thing that could be counted on to get our red wolves howling, it was a fire truck. There was a fire station not that far from the zoo, and as our wolf exhibit was close to the perimeter fence, fire trucks often raced by past their habitat. I’d be somewhere in the zoo, hear the sirens, count to three, and then on cue would hear the red wolves howling together in response to the trucks. Perhaps, as the trucks drove off into the distance and the siren sound grew fainter, they thought they’d chased off their rivals?

Given the opportunity, wolves are excellent hiders, and I’m pretty sure our reds could have hidden under a single fallen leaf, if they didn’t have a better option. So good were they at it that one of the most stressful jobs I had every morning was to thoroughly walk the exhibit to make sure I eventually found everyone. The fact that I was able to walk around in an exhibit, outnumbered by a large carnivore, with only a rake for defense, should I need it, gives you an idea of just how inoffensive wolves are. I also worked free contact with the gray wolves, though that did make me a little more nervous – not only were they larger than the reds, but it was a much smaller space, and none of us had a place to get away from each other (that and I was much younger back then).

The hiding may make wolves frustrating exhibit animals for many guests – but many keepers I’ve worked with have loved working with wolves, if only because how low maintenance and undemanding they are. I think on an average day I spent about 10 minutes on the red wolves, between checking the feeder and walking the yard to collect their poop, inspecting the fence line as I went. No training, no interest in socialization, no need to shift them (I’ve had to spend long, frustrating mornings dealing with big cats or bears who refuse to shift), no indoor holding area to clean (outside in all weather, no complaints) – they were the easiest carnivores I’ve ever worked with.

There's also a sense of reward working with red wolves - something special about their unique conservation story and the ongoing struggle to sustain them in the wild. They really are one of the poster children for why zoos are important for conservation projects - one of my fondest zoo memories that doesn't directly involve animals was when, as an intern in college, I was able to attend the planning session for the red wolf SSP, and sat in and observed as zoo professionals and population biologists mapped out the population's genetics, making their pairings and recommending various transfers. Years later, while working with red wolves as a keeper, I was able to assist when reproductive biologists came to take some sperm samples from our male wolf during a routine immobilization/vet check so that his genes could be banked.

 

[lintworm]

I am really enjoying this thread very much Every story is written entertainingly and gives an interesting perspective that is rather different from the regular zoo visitor!

What strikes me is how much more common it seems in the US to use Mazuri etc. for carnivores instead of whole carcasses / rabbits. The latter seems the dominant way to feed them here in Europe.

 

[Nile Hippo Expert]

I know many people have said this already, but I'm particularly enjoying this thread more than any other one before! I think that this can arguably be considered one of the greatest threads ever on ZooChat!

 

[HOMIN96]

...and illegal, at least according to some countries' animal welfare legislation.

Austria doesn't have the "unless it is a must" add-on for this law I see...

 

[pachyderm pro]

The grays would sometimes howl at night, but if there was one thing that could be counted on to get our red wolves howling, it was a fire truck. There was a fire station not that far from the zoo, and as our wolf exhibit was close to the perimeter fence, fire trucks often raced by past their habitat. I’d be somewhere in the zoo, hear the sirens, count to three, and then on cue would hear the red wolves howling together in response to the trucks. Perhaps, as the trucks drove off into the distance and the siren sound grew fainter, they thought they’d chased off their rivals?

I witnessed this at Lincoln Park last summer. As I was leaving the zoo an ambulance came by and the wolves, which also happened to be red wolves, began howling up a storm. Their enclosure is near the zoo's perimeter fence by a busy street so I imagine it's a semi-regular occurrence.

 

[Coelacanth18]

Reticulateds are less friendly, more nervous than Burmese and Indian rock, in my experience, as well as more active and twitchy.

Burmese vs Reticulated is one of those interesting species comparisons to me. I've read/heard the same things about their differing behavior - Burmese being more sluggish and docile, retics being more active and nervous - and from a husbandry standpoint it seems like Burmese are just easier to work with... however, the higher activity for retics is probably a point in their favor from an exhibit standpoint, since visitors are more likely to enjoy seeing a big snake actively climbing and exploring. Plus - and this is just IMO but still - wild-type Reticulated Pythons have absolutely beautiful patterning, which I think helps with the "snakes are ugly" sentiment I've heard thrown around by some.

What strikes me is how much more common it seems in the US to use Mazuri etc. for carnivores instead of whole carcasses / rabbits. The latter seems the dominant way to feed them here in Europe.

I've been wondering that too, it definitely seems like Mazuri has cornered the zoo animal feed market... @Aardwolf in your opinion is this done more for cost efficiency and logistical reasons, or are these diets actually better for captive animals than simply produce and/or meat?

 

[Velas]

I know many people have said this already, but I'm particularly enjoying this thread more than any other one before! I think that this can arguably be considered one of the greatest threads ever on ZooChat!

Couldn't agree more! Not only are the stories very well written and entertaining, but they also show us in a more immersive way how does the backstage works happens in a way we usually wouldn't find out (be it the fun parts and/or the hard work)! Really looking forward for the future stories !

 

[HOMIN96]

I've been wondering that too, it definitely seems like Mazuri has cornered the zoo animal feed market...

Not in EU anymore

 

[birdsandbats]

What can you say about wolves? On one hand, they are one of the most famous, well-known species. On the other, they have a reputation for being very poor exhibit animals; there’s no “ABC” species that I can think of that visitors are less likely to see on a visit to the zoo. They’re apex predators, but one which is usually worked free contact. Every visitor has heard of them and thinks they know them, but guests often get confused between wolves, foxes, coyotes, and other canids.

I’ve worked with wolves at two zoos – gray wolves (of that white color that often gets passed off as “Arctic wolf”) at a non-AZA zoo, red wolves at an AZA zoo.

By virtue of not being climbers or jumpers and not needing particularly complicated enclosures, wolves are one of the easiest large carnivores to house – you need a large fenced in space with a suitable dig barrier. They may hide all day, but they’ll be happy in there. That, essentially, was the red wolf exhibit that I worked with – a large plot of land, gently slopping with lots of trees and tall brush and den sites – both artificial, built by the staff, and natural, dug by the wolves themselves. Towards the back of the yard was a chain-link holding area, consisting to three pens, each with a nest box and a feeder. The wolves were fed their main diet in here, and often slept in here, so that they could be more easily trapped up (when wolves needed to be caught for procedures, we’d fan out around the exhibit and gradually herd them in here to be locked in).

The gray wolves, in contrast, had a fairly small wire paddock, which was way too open (there were a few pine trees, but tall and straight, and no other ground cover) leaving them almost always on view. Perhaps not surprisingly, the gray wolves were much more neurotic, constantly pacing back and forth, eyes fixed on a public that they were unable to avoid.

View attachment 769076
"Arctic" wolf. I visited this zoo where I once worked more than 10 years later. Remarkably, the wolves had been moved into an even worse, less stimulating habitat.

(Perhaps it’s because red wolves are all owned by USFWS, and as such their distribution in zoos is more tightly regulated, but I’ve never seen a really bad red wolf exhibit – just like I’ve never seen a really red Mexican gray wolf exhibit. All of the truly awful wolf exhibits I’ve ever seen – including the one I worked in – were for generic gray wolves).

Despite their ravenous reputation for eating, feeding wolves at either zoo was a fairly uninteresting matter. The grays largely got commercial carnivore diet of horse meat. The reds had a feeder filled with Mazuri Exotic Canine which they had constant access too. We also fed them rats, rabbits, and occasionally carcasses. Keepers of red and Mexican grey wolves are generally told to be very hands-off with those animals compared to others in their care as part of the protocols for the release program, even if the wolves that they work with are not slated for release, so we tried to minimize direct association of keepers and food. Perhaps as a result (and also because they didn’t receive training, or enrichment to the same extent that other animals did), the reds were a fair bit more fearful and cautious of us than many of other zoo animals were.

While the grays were limited by the starkness of their habitat, the reds, with their larger, more natural habitat, which attracted native wildlife, were always keen to demonstrate their skills as hunters. Cleaning the exhibit in the morning, I’d sometimes find half a snake… or part of an opossum… or, on one memorable occasion, the wing of a great horned owl, evidence of their kills. One of the keepers once told me that he watched the full pack (the parents and their offspring, which had been dispersed to other zoos before I started there) passing a live duck back and forth, like runners with a baton, running laps around the exhibit.

View attachment 769077

At the same time, we had white-tailed deer in the exhibit immediately next to the wolves, the two fences separated by a gap of just a few feet – and I’d often see a wolf and a deer standing directly across from each other, curiously sniffing at one another. I called them the forbidden lovers.

If there’s one thing visitors know about wolves, it’s that they howl – and boy, do the visitors try to get a howl from the wolves. So prevalent is it (and annoying, both to humans and animals) that many zoos put up signs asking visitors not to howl at the wolves – and, to be sure, I’ve never heard a wolf howl back at a visitor. The grays would sometimes howl at night, but if there was one thing that could be counted on to get our red wolves howling, it was a fire truck. There was a fire station not that far from the zoo, and as our wolf exhibit was close to the perimeter fence, fire trucks often raced by past their habitat. I’d be somewhere in the zoo, hear the sirens, count to three, and then on cue would hear the red wolves howling together in response to the trucks. Perhaps, as the trucks drove off into the distance and the siren sound grew fainter, they thought they’d chased off their rivals?

Given the opportunity, wolves are excellent hiders, and I’m pretty sure our reds could have hidden under a single fallen leaf, if they didn’t have a better option. So good were they at it that one of the most stressful jobs I had every morning was to thoroughly walk the exhibit to make sure I eventually found everyone. The fact that I was able to walk around in an exhibit, outnumbered by a large carnivore, with only a rake for defense, should I need it, gives you an idea of just how inoffensive wolves are. I also worked free contact with the gray wolves, though that did make me a little more nervous – not only were they larger than the reds, but it was a much smaller space, and none of us had a place to get away from each other (that and I was much younger back then).

The hiding may make wolves frustrating exhibit animals for many guests – but many keepers I’ve worked with have loved working with wolves, if only because how low maintenance and undemanding they are. I think on an average day I spent about 10 minutes on the red wolves, between checking the feeder and walking the yard to collect their poop, inspecting the fence line as I went. No training, no interest in socialization, no need to shift them (I’ve had to spend long, frustrating mornings dealing with big cats or bears who refuse to shift), no indoor holding area to clean (outside in all weather, no complaints) – they were the easiest carnivores I’ve ever worked with.

There's also a sense of reward working with red wolves - something special about their unique conservation story and the ongoing struggle to sustain them in the wild. They really are one of the poster children for why zoos are important for conservation projects - one of my fondest zoo memories that doesn't directly involve animals was when, as an intern in college, I was able to attend the planning session for the red wolf SSP, and sat in and observed as zoo professionals and population biologists mapped out the population's genetics, making their pairings and recommending various transfers. Years later, while working with red wolves as a keeper, I was able to assist when reproductive biologists came to take some sperm samples from our male wolf during a routine immobilization/vet check so that his genes could be banked.

I witnessed this at Lincoln Park last summer. As I was leaving the zoo an ambulance came by and the wolves, which also happened to be red wolves, began howling up a storm. Their enclosure is near the zoo's perimeter fence by a busy street so I imagine it's a semi-regular occurrence.

At the NEW Zoo, the Red Wolf pack always responds to the tornado siren. As the siren is tested at the same time every week, if you time a visit on the right day and time you can easily hear them howling.

 

[tigris115]

I wish to God you'd find a publisher

Hell, I'd buy that book

 

[birdsandbats]

I wish to God you'd find a publisher

Hell, I'd buy that book

These days Amazon will publish anything.

 

[Batto]

Austria doesn't have the "unless it is a must" add-on for this law I see...

It does in regard to starving. But it requires an individual special permit by the responsible official veterinary office.

 

[Pertinax]

On the other, they have a reputation for being very poor exhibit animals; there’s no “ABC” species that I can think of that visitors are less likely to see on a visit to the zoo.

I can identify with that. Although I've seen plenty of Zoo wolves over the years in the past, my attempts to see examples of the Spanish race were, for some years, completely thwarted. The main parks I visited in the UK that had them (being Howletts and Port Lympne) were both complete failures over and again. I once glimpse one scuttle into a burrow and that was all. A keeper recommended 'feed days' but although on one occassion there was a relatively fresh carcass in sight, still no wolves were out. Talk about invisible....

Finally I managed to see them very well at a different zoo (Blackpool) where the group of (then) three were fully active and in full view each time I visited the enclosure during the day. Nor did they behave at all nervously like wolves often do. I believe these individuals may have been handreared, perhaps that makes a difference? Then finally, on one return visit to Howletts again, success, there were two Spanish wolves, in full view and seemingly unperturbed by the visitors here too, though not for very long.

 

[Aardwolf]

Hil all, I’m glad to see folks are enjoying the thread. To answer the question about zoo diets, there really does seem to be a philosophical divide. This is a lazy characterization on my part, and different zoos have different cultures, but I’d say that you have the vets on the side of commercial, scientific diets, such as Mazuri and Zupreem, because they like that it’s nutritionally complete and quantifiable. The downside of such diets as 1) the animals don’t seem to like them as much and 2) it usually takes a very small fraction of the time to eat it. The plus side, besides the nutritionally value, is that it’s readily available (no seasonal fluctuations), can be stored long term, and there’s little variation to worry about. The behavioral school tends to be more in favor of natural foods, where the diet is made up of a lot of diverse food stuffs. It’s much more natural for the animals, and can be much more enriching for them to eat – think carcass feedings versus ground meat in a pan. It can also be more expensive, more subject to seasonal variation, and you sometimes run into the problem where the animals act like kids who want to eat their “candy,” but not their “vegetables.”

Most AZA zoos I’ve worked at use commercial diets as a baseline, and then supplement it with natural foods. I do think it’s good to have animals, where possible and practical, used to eating a wide variety of foods, so they won’t be too reliant on a single food source, in case that food becomes unavailable for one reason or another.


There have been a few times in my career where I’ve been something of a pinch hitter, having to fill in for other keepers and working with animals that I usually don’t. In that capacity, I’ve gotten a little experience with a few lemur species, but not well enough to really know them. There’s only one species of lemur which I can say that I’ve really worked with to an appreciable degree. I don’t suspect anyone will be that surprised as to which one it is.

To the younger ZooChatters out here, let me tell you – long before the Madagascar movies came out and every kid and their parents started screaming about “King Julian!” ring-tailed lemurs were still far and away the dominant lemur species in zoos. Despite the fact that they are the lemur most visitors think of when they think of lemurs – and the only member of the genus Lemur – in many ways they are very… well, un-lemurlike. Diurnal. Social. Largely terrestrial. The first two factors make them perhaps better exhibit animals than many of the other lemurs, which might be more inclined to sit by themselves, curled up in little balls of fur that are asleep during visiting hours. RTLs, in contrast, are always full of action and drama.

I worked with ring-tailed lemurs at two non-AZA facilities. At each, the exhibit was a simple construction of wooden poles and wire. Heat was provided with a nest box with a heat lamp at one zoo, a small indoor holding area with a heat lamp at the other. Grassy exhibit floor, lots of perching, while still keeping open space on the ground, and make sure you've got plenty of sunshine - RTLs are sun worshipers, and it was always fun to walk by on a sunny summer day and see them all basking in the glow, blissful looks upon their faces.

Diet at the two facilities was almost identical – monkey chow, with some produce tossed in. Here’s where we get one of those insights into zoo superstition that can really stress a keeper out. At one facility, a big bucket of chopped banana, orange, apple, carrot, and cooked sweet potato was mixed up every day, and from that we doled out portions for the primates, parrots, and a few other animals. It’s important to note that orange was part of that mix. At the other zoo, half of the keepers were convinced that feeding citrus to lemurs meant instant death. One keeper saw me toss a piece of orange to a lemur (a small diced piece, about the size of a grape) and actually burst into tears because she was convinced the lemurs would drop dead within minutes. I was dumbfounded. The lemurs at the other zoo, where I’d fed the produce mix, had been getting oranges for years, no issue, but she refused to believe. When she came in the next morning and the lemurs were still there, I suspect she thought that I went out and got another pair overnight and replaced them, like a parent swapping out a dead goldfish.

Where did this come from? Recent research (well, it was probably more “recent” at the time) suggested that lemurs shouldn’t have too much vitamin C in their diet. Too much vitamin C overtime was translated to the keepers as citrus = poison, because no one really explained the reason to them – which was really ironic, because the lemurs were being fed other, non-citrus produce that was even higher in Vitamin C than oranges were, because they didn’t understand what the issue was.



Ring-tailed lemurs breed very well in zoos, and at both facilities we had a pair that regularly produced young, to the point where I could almost predict to the day when an infant would appear each year. Even when I knew they were coming, it was always still a startling sensation to have the mom climb up on the wire in the morning with her baby on her chest – much like with the tamarins and marmosets, my first instinct was always that it was a tumor or something, so misshapen did they look with their giant heads and tiny, clutching bodies (the tails looking like they were strands of thread). The babies never seemed to stay small for very long, and it never took long before they were rambling all of the enclosures, climbing over the adults and hopping through the grasses.



The basic unit of each lemur group was a mated pair, the female being dominant, and their grown offspring. In each troop, the dominant female was confident, poised, and somewhat aloof. Her consort always struck me as a kind of doofy animal, with a perpetually befuddled look, like he was just hit in the back of the head with a two by four. There was no spine in the males, and they were easily ordered around by their mates. I never saw any indications that the grown offspring were poised to challenge their mothers for rule of the little troops, though I suspect that if she passed on or were removed, things could have gotten pretty dicey, as was the case with the marmosets. Compared to many social primates, I actually found them fairly drama free – lots of interaction, but fairly little conflict, though I know this is not everyone’s experience, and certainly doesn’t reflect the way that they can behave in the wild.

The lemurs were quite bold and confident with keepers – never climbing on us, as you might see at some facilities that have lemur feeding opportunities, but willing to get very close. More than once I accidentally knocked over a lemur that was right behind me, or turned at the wrong moment and had one crash into me as it leapt from perch to perch.

Towards the end of my time at one zoo, we were building a series of new exhibits (still poles and wire, but much larger), and the lemurs were slated to move into them. I wanted to mix them with our radiated tortoises, but management didn’t like that idea. Not because they thought anything bad would happen, but because they’d have another exhibit that would need to be filled.

One last story, which doesn’t actually have anything to really do with the lemurs – one day, I had a call over the radio from one of our groundskeepers, who said that a child had fell and skinned her knee, and could someone bring the first aid kit to the lemur exhibit. I happened to be nearby, so I grabbed one and went to the lemurs. No one was there. I radioed, asking where they were and was told, not especially nicely, that they were at the lemurs, like he’d said. I looked around, no one was there. I asked again. I got an angry tirade over the radio about how stupid could I be, didn’t I hear him say he was at the lemurs, and so on for several minutes, before I finally was able to cut in. I asked him to walk to the closest animal and read the sign. He did. “Oh, that’s a serval? I always thought it was a lemur.”

It helps for your staff – especially frontline staff – to all have basic familiarity with your zoo.