(F)ly, Little Bird

The Arctic Tern,  a medium-sized seabird, migrates annually from pole to pole, flying an average of 44,000 miles. 44,000 miles, flown by a bird. If that sounds like a lot, it is. Arctic Terns win the distinction of having the longest annual migration of any animal in the world. Furthermore, since these birds live relatively long lives (approximately 30 years), this means that their lifetime migration is the equivalent of flying to the moon and back ... three times. A bird.

Frankly, this gives me an entirely new perspective on how long my own journey has been, searching for a career path that excites me.

The awe-inspiring Arctic Tern

Granted, an Arctic Tern is probably a little more single-minded and needs-driven than a human suffering from the affliction of free will.

I turn 40 this week, and to say that I am frustrated and disappointed that I have neither a satisfying career nor my bachelor's degree yet is an understatement. But my birthday will come and go, and those facts won't change, and I'll just get on with things.

What I can be proud of is the fact that I actually have been getting on with things for a couple of years: in less than a six-month period beginning at the end of 2012, I began volunteering at the zoo, working with animals in a paid position at the shelter, and pursuing my degree in earnest.

When the Arctic Terns begin their migration south, they don't do so with immediacy. They spend close to a month at sea in the middle of the ocean, a lengthy stop-over that researchers believe is their chance to "fuel-up". The waters farther south provide less food, and the birds must be prepared. Their return journey is even less direct; the birds take a circuitous route which allows them to take advantage of global winds, thus reducing the energy they must expend to reach their breeding grounds in Greenland.

I can't clearly identify my "fueling-up" points at this stage in my personal migration, or the benefits gained from my own circuitous route. But I'm confident in a couple of things: First, I am not the only free-willed human out there feeling like they have mucked up most of their personal journey thus far. And second, retrospect will show me how and why my trek was the right one for me.

In the meantime, I don't need to focus on a destination as distant as the moon. Or even 44,000 miles. I just need to fly, little bird ... fly.

(C)hange is for the Birds

When I first started volunteering in the North America area of the Oregon Zoo, part of my routine included some work with our herps. "Herp" is a vernacular term derived from "herpetile", meaning reptiles and amphibians. Like this guy:

Newt. Cute!

A few months ago, the care of our herps was redirected to a specific Herp Keeper. So, while I didn't do much more than change out their water and spritz the plants in their exhibit (oh, and count them to make sure everyone was still there), now I only wave at them as I walk by them.

This morning I was told that the birds in our collection are going the way of the herps. That is, they will remain on exhibit in North America, but a Bird Keeper will now be solely responsible for their care. So, all that pervasive duck poop that I mentioned in my last post? Not going to be my problem anymore.

It's a little sad. The ducks all have personalities and I'm going to miss interacting with them. It's fun to give them their worms and feel like the most popular person on zoo grounds when doing so. And it really is awe-inspiring stepping into the bald eagle exhibit, despite the fact that they avoid us at all costs.

Jack, our male bald eagle. He only has one eye, which he is using to make sure
I give credit for this awesome photo from the Oregon Zoo website.

But, as they say, change is the one constant. The zoo is certainly not immune to this law of life. When the keepers I work with broke the news to me this morning, they were concerned that I wouldn't want to keep volunteering as my routine would change. But I am the rare bird that loves change, thrives with transition, and resents routine. So I'm excited to see what this means for me! It may mean that I get to work with animals I've spent minimal time with so far, or do more in-depth work (training, enrichment) with the animals that are currently part of my routine.

Today, for example, I helped train our river otters for injections. On the inside of their enclosure, a large PVC pipe has been cut in half lengthwise and attached with the open side facing the keepers. The goal is to get the otters to crawl inside willingly, which they do for food, and remain in place while receiving an injection. Training the animals to accept treatment willingly is an important part of their care, greatly reducing the stress they might otherwise feel if confined against their will. So, I lured the otters with food, and the keeper practiced poking them with a dull syringe, desensitizing them to the sensation.

We'll see what the next few weeks of transition look like. And, hopefully, I'll see my list of skills and qualifications grow!

(P)oop

Since I (unintentionally) took a year hiatus from this blog, I might as well come back with a bang. So, poop it is!

I deal with a lot of poop during my 3-hour volunteer shift at the zoo each week. If I worked mid-day, perhaps I'd do more with enrichment or training or even diet prep for the following day ... but I'm there in the morning, and a night's worth of poop is there waiting for me. Depending on the area I'm assigned to, my "good morning" from the animals is either unsightly and pervasive (ducks) or disturbingly aromatic (river otters). Mountain goats are the most polite poopers, sprinkling their dry, dainty pellets into neat little piles. Let us not discuss bear poop. Ever.

Unicorn poop, far more lovely than any zoo animal poop I am likely to encounter

This past year has been exceptionally busy. My husband has asked me to consider stepping back from my volunteer commitment in an effort to reduce my stress level. But it's strangely therapeutic, hosing down poop. (If only I could get the same sense of satisfaction from cleaning my own house!) 

Cleaning up zoo animal poop also brings a sense of adventure: Can I maneuver this hilly, rocky terrain as nimbly as the goats? Is today the day I fall into the beaver pond instead of crossing safely over the waterfall? Will I deftly clean up the ringtail exhibit without one of them perching in a branch above me and christening my head? It can also make for great comedy: Tilly, our river otter mom, in an effort to teach her son Ziggy the poop dance, would inadvertently poop directly on him as he moved in for close examination. And always, within inches of the exhibit window, to the delight and disgust of zoo visitors.

Plus, poop can just plain be interesting. It can tell us about digestion, bacteria, gastrointestinal parasites, viral diseases, and other medical conditions, such as pregnancy. How do you know which poop is Tilly's if she shares an exhibit with two other otters? Simple: add something like glitter or blue food dye to her meat. Her poop becomes undeniably hers, and can be collected and tested for hormonal changes which potentially indicate pregnancy.

So, poop can be very telling. And the fact that I'm blogging about it might also be telling ... but I'll leave it at that and share this Osaka Aquarium otter poop dance video in closing. You're welcome!

(K)utai

Goodbye, Kutai.

Photo from the Oregon Zoo

This charming 20-year-old Sumatran orangutan died Saturday at the Oregon Zoo following a month-long illness.You can read the zoo's article about Kutai here: http://www.oregonzoo.org/news/2014/01/zoo-says-goodbye-mischievous-sweet-orang-kutai. Kutai will be missed terribly by zoo staff, volunteers, and visitors. Likely, he will be missed by Inji, his 54-year-old surviving grandmother who shared his habitat.

Time will tell if Inji will grieve, and if so, how her grief will be manifested. In our tendency to attribute human characteristics to animals, we assume that - like us - she will feel tremendous loss and mourn deeply. And she may. Research has revealed that animals - from our domestic pets, to dolphins, to elephants - do mourn their dead. Some wail, some cry tears, some refuse to eat. The following link shows ten acts of animal mourning captured on film: http://www.pawnation.com/2012/07/31/10-heartbreaking-animal-mourning-rituals/

Barbara J. King has written a book called "How Animals Grieve", in which she addresses the greater depth of human grieving that is the result of our heightened awareness of the finality of death and of our own mortality. And, while there are distinct differences in how humans and animals grieve, there is a significant similarity: the sadness felt by humans and animals when experiencing a loss exists because there was first friendship and loved shared. To read an excerpt from King's book: http://nypost.com/2013/04/28/how-animals-mourn-their-dead/

My favorite memory of Kutai is from the fall of 2012, when I assisted the volunteer enrichment team in assembling quilts for the primates. Many small pockets were sewn into each quilt, and keepers placed treats such as seeds and grapes in these pockets. Kutai was instantly drawn to the quilts, and I marveled at the dexterity of his enormous fingers picking methodically through each pocket to retrieve the treats inside. I don't believe he shared a single one with Inji! (You snooze, you lose, Grandma.) Later, I'm told, he shredded the quilt and made his own bedding, building his nest to his utter satisfaction.

Goodbye, Kutai. You made us laugh, touched our hearts, and helped raise awareness about the impending extinction of orangutans largely due to habitat loss and palm oil production. For more information, to make a donation, and to see all the ways you can help, visit The Orangutan Project's website: http://www.orangutan.org.au/palm-oil.

(P)umpkins, Porcupines, and Pachyderms

Halloween is one of the best times of the year for enrichment at the zoo! All the animals seem to love their pumpkins, and in different ways ... from the river otters who take their baby pumpkins on underwater play dates, to the annual Squishing of the Squash performed by the elephants (a 1,316.5 pound pumpkin named "Gourdzilla" was this year's victim). 

Enjoy all the pictures below, copied from the Oregon Zoo's Facebook page (have you "liked" it yet?).

But first: as much as I love these pictures, I love this video of a pumpkin-loving porcupine the most: Watch (and listen to!) Teddy the Talking Porcupine. He loooooves his pumpkin!

Happy Howloween, everyone!

Squash. Squished.

Pumpkin mask for our masked De Brazza's monkeys.

Happy Halloween AND Happy Birthday to our tigers!

Black bear. Orange pumpkin.

The pumpkin didn't stand a chance against Zuri.

 This pumpkin is about to be polar-verized.

(B)azinga!

Meet Bazinga, the Oregon Zoo's new veiled chameleon:

Photo from the Oregon Zoo

Isn't it gorgeous? That tail! Those colors! That ... shark fin on its head? You can see Bazinga in the Predators of the Serengeti exhibit, across from the dwarf mongoose enclosure.

I was hoping that this captivating creating was going to become part of our programs animals collection; the kids at ZooSnooze would be very impressed! However, a little cursory research has shown that handling can be very stressful for chameleons. Handlers must move slowly, use caution, and keep handling to a minimum. Ultimately, stress on an animal can lead to a shorter life ... and since, well, kids tend to move neither slowly nor cautiously ... Bazinga would probably soon be Bazin-gone.

You can find veiled chameleons close to home (think Petco, but only if you are an experienced handler), but they are primarily native to Yemen and Saudi Arabia. (Am I the only one who cannot hear "Yemen" without thinking of Chandler in Friends?)

Watch: Chandler Goes To Yemen

And while we're speaking of sitcoms, I Googled "Bazinga" to find out its meaning. According to UrbanDictionary.com, "Bazinga" is:

A catchy phrase to accompany your clever pranks, as popularized by Sheldon Cooper (The Big Bang Theory).
"I just replaced your toothpaste with denture cream. Bazinga!"

Photo from Flickr.com

Which I suppose is better than some of the other definitions provided on the site:

Bazingas

1. The inverse of bazongas
2. Female breasts of smaller proportions

"I prefer girls with bazingas over girls with bazongas."

Bazinga

People have started using this term to disguise the use of weed. (Have they really?)

"Let's Bazinga tonight!!" "Who wants to Bazinga??"

Bazinga

The word that should be used when something is so legit it is indescribable but by this word.

"Bazinga, girl - you sure can make a peanut butter sandwich."

"Holy bazinga -  i just farted and it smelled like lucky charms."

But more on point, here are links to the Oregonian's article introducing this remarkable reptile, and to the Oregon Zoo's fun fact sheet.

And less on point, yet absolutely necessary in closing:

 Watch: Culture Club's "Karma Chameleon"

(B)reak Dancing Gorilla

Take 40 seconds to fit some unexpected fun into your day today. Okay, 80 seconds ... 40 to watch this video, and 40 to do your own thing. Work it!

Calgary Zoo. Where it's at.

Click here to enjoy the video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VNKyG4C2VlA