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Animal Stories

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The Panda Girls

Su Lin

It’s about time for an update on our panda girls Zhen Zhen and Su Lin, don’t you think? Thanks to keeper Juli Borowski, who answered my questions while cleaning panda exhibits–a true “multitasker”!

Juli described almost three-year-old Zhen Zhen as a teenager going through a super-cute, crazy stage. The little dynamo is never still for long. She is “super playful” and constantly checking the boundaries and limits of her home.

Remember, Zhen now lives in the classroom exhibit off to the side of the main viewing areas, a place where she first lived as a small cub. In those days, the trees probably seemed insurmountably high; now, how high can Zhen Zhen go? ZZ is quite the acrobat in the treetops, often causing guests watching her to gasp at her daredevil flips, but Juli assured me that this intelligent panda girl, who now weighs 154 pounds (69.8 kilograms), always tests a branch’s sturdiness before attempting a new feat! One advantage to those treetop perches: Zhen can now watch the keepers going about their business at the Giant Panda Research Station, and she seems to find this quite interesting.

Zhen has been participating in our panda hearing study, helping to provide valuable data. And Juli said ZZ is a fast learner that has always found ways to keep herself entertained. Unlike her siblings, Zhen Zhen has always had a more independent spirit, doesn’t seek out interaction with the keepers, and is less sensitive to noises and changes in her environment. Juli shared that Zhen really enjoys having guests come to watch her. For this reason, we try to have her exhibit open for at least a few hours each day, as volunteer staffing allows.

Su Lin is not nearly as playful as her younger sister. At almost five years of age, Juli said Su Lin is definitely an adult panda now and has really matured this past year. Su Lin went through an estrus and possibly even a brief pseudopregnancy, and experienced several mood changes this year. We all know that this endearing panda is due to move to China later this year as part of our loan agreement. No, we don’t have a date set for her departure. Juli admits that for the longest time, she couldn’t bear the thought of Su Lin leaving us; but now, Juli believes Su is ready to become a mother and fulfill her destiny. I am confident she will make Juli and the other keepers, as well as her many fans and admirers, very proud!

Debbie Andreen is a blog moderator for the San Diego Zoo.

14

Going Ape, Part II

Bonobo

Karyl shadowed the Zoo’s primate keepers during a Visit-A-Job program. Be sure to read Going Ape, Part 1.

Another interesting aspect to a zoo keeper’s job is “shifting animals,” where you bring the animals that are out on exhibit inside, and send out the group that has been off exhibit. Sounds easy, right? I went to bonobos to see how it’s done.

The trick is to keep the animals’ lives as positive as possible, giving them pleasant, upbeat associations with doing your bidding, particularly when the animals are unbelievably smart, incredibly strong, and look suspiciously like you. Brief positive reinforcement training sessions in holding areas, which reward the animals for desired behaviors like presenting an arm or shoulder, also gets the animals where you want them to be. It was astonishing to watch. Not easy by any stretch, but quite effective.

Sometimes more than one bonobo would scamper into the holding area at the same time, and the keeper could tell if “these two would get along” in the closed quarters for a minute or two or not. Each presented its shoulder for a finger poke, then an empty syringe poke, and a treat. They seemed to enjoy this bit of interaction, and it will pay off for staff when the bonobos are desensitized to “pokes” and can accept shots and blood draws in a stress-free manner. Like their human caregivers, bonobos (and other primates) get annual TB tests, so it is helpful when they can just present an arm for the procedure.

Meanwhile, the group that came inside was rummaging around for treats and enrichment items, and in the excitement they were all communicating loudly at an ear-splitting pitch. The keeper looked on calmly, watching the group mingle and move (they have a fission-fusion society) with his hands on a wheel that will bring down hydraulic gates to separate them in different areas. It is better if they are good friends with all the group members, rather than BEST friends with one other animal, as that will invite aggression and the potential of an inseparable duo ganging up on others. Keepers do their best to let the animals’ natural behaviors shine through and make their lives as positive and interesting as possible. Often the biggest challenge is keeping these intelligent apes engaged and challenged every day. I was dazzled by the keeper’s deft talent for shifting the bonobos quickly and safely.

Orangutan

We then headed back up to orangutans to see if Karen had yet cracked the code of the hot wire to tear up the plants we’d put in that morning. Smart, dexterous, and patient, an orangutan can really give their keepers a run for their money, and it is so interesting to see the big “red apes” cogitating some riddle (like how to touch the newly planted shrubs), then see them methodically solve it. We arrived to find Karen lying on her belly, stick in hand, poking between the charged wires to touch the new foliage. Clever primate! (See post Karen: Will She or Won’t She?)

Time to finish off the day back at gorillas and say farewell to my buddy, Frank. His troop was off exhibit that day, so we went to the bedroom areas where the family was hanging out, resting, nibbling biscuits, and relaxing. (Everything but checking their e-mail!) Frank came over and began swinging from his rope with one hand and beating his chest with the other hand. I swear he was grinning.

At the risk of being a champion for the obvious, gorillas (and all apes) are incredible primates that deserve our utmost respect and conservation efforts. Gorillas are blessed with more strength than they need, enough social graces to get along in groups, and a calm intelligence that has kept them moving through African forests for millions of years. They are fearless when necessary and rely on convincing displays of their brawn before coming to blows. As humans, we should take note. I thought about the oil mess in the Gulf of Mexico, the bushmeat trade in Africa, the ways we are trashing the planet with pollution and overpopulation, and, looking at little Frank, I felt deeply ashamed as a human about how we treat our collective, finite “nest.”

“We’ll do better,” I whispered to him. “I promise, Frank, we’ll do better.”

Karyl Carmignani is a staff writer for the San Diego Zoo.

15

Going Ape, Part I

Karyl tossed food to Memba and his troop, out on exhibit that day.

Few things in life get me leaping out of bed at 4:48 a.m. like the prospect of “shadowing” primate keepers at the San Diego Zoo. We have a terrific Visit-a-Job program where a dozen employees are randomly selected each month to visit an area of their choice within the Zoological Society of San Diego for a day. It’s a great learning experience and also gives employees a clearer understanding of the “big picture.” I chose to visit the great apes, as Frank, the one-and-a-half-year-old baby gorilla, is my primate soul mate, and I’d give anything to feed him breakfast (and lunch and dinner) and gaze into his chocolate brown eyes. I’d give him a kidney if he needed it, but I hope it won’t come to that.

In preparation for my Visit-a-Job, I got a TB test (mandatory to be around primates), avoided people with colds and sniffles like a hornet’s nest (primates are susceptible to many human diseases, and I didn’t want to be an accidental vector), worked like a maniac to get my assignments caught up in the office, and baked cookies for the keepers to help keep them motivated (positive reinforcement works with all apes!). Striding through the Zoo at 5:50 a.m. to meet the keepers, I was astonished by all the people already hard at work. Within minutes, I’d be joining them.

Our first stop was orangutans. We walked past clean, gleaming counters, down the steps, and into the orangutan bedrooms. Leaving the lights off, we walked down the dim hallway checking on each animal without waking them. Then the keeper expertly prepared the juice bottles for individuals who need medication (birth control, arthritis, etc.). Back upstairs I got to help plant some shrubs inside the exhibit: $500 had been donated by a school class, the plants purchased at a local nursery, and they had just been released from horticulture quarantine (a protocol to ensure no chemicals or pests are inadvertently brought into the exhibit). The horticulturist explained the challenges of exhibit landscaping, including making sure the plants, buds, and seeds are not toxic to the animals, the varieties of grasses necessary to keep an exhibit area green all year, and how to protect the plants from the ever-curious primates. Our plants were going in behind “hot wire,” which is a gentle deterrent at best.

Slathered in sweat by 7:30, it was then time to head over to gorillas and “help” get them ready for the day. I all but tap danced in the foot bath in the doorway, as the heady, sweet smell of gorillas met my nose. They were up and about, and not too rowdy. I had met the troop several months before while writing an article about Frank and his family for the Zoo’s member magazine, ZOONOOZ (September 2009), and believe me, it was high praise when Avila, an adult female, came over and carefully stared me down, perhaps trying to place where she knew me from. Paul Donn, the imposing silverback, sat with his (huge) arms crossed while little Frank checked in with everyone, waiting for breakfast.

The keeper opened a partition about a foot high, and Frank ambled into a holding area in which he is given his special breakfast. When Frank was born, his mother was not able to hold him properly to nurse, so keepers intervened to ensure he was getting enough to eat while leaving him with his troop to learn the rules of gorilla-hood (see Frank the Gorilla: First Year). He’s had the best of both worlds! He will be weaned from his bowl of warm morning porridge soon, but thankfully the spoon-feeding task is still necessary…and the keeper let me do it!

Frank is a good eater, and he peered unblinking at me scooping his gruel into his pink mouth. I could see his tiny baby teeth in the front, white as fresh snow. He also gets fresh fruit and seemed to really enjoy the slices of green bell peppers. He weighs a sturdy 31 pounds (14 kilograms) now. I was ecstatic having the honor of being this close to this amazing animal. I’m sure Frank could feel the adoration exuding from me; clearly no malfeasance could come from this love struck “naked ape,” so he continued to stare at me throughout his breakfast. And I stared right back, tickled pink.

Zoo keepers are busy bees, especially in the crunch time before the Zoo opens at 9 a.m. Scooping, sweeping, and hosing exhibits and bedroom areas, slicing, dicing, and preparing diets (and meds), checking on animals, inspecting exhibits for animal and public safety, the list goes on and on, and are all chores that need to be done seven days a week, every day of the year. The keepers’ deep commitment to the well-being of the animals in their care (and their wild counterparts) is remarkable, as is the patience for husbandry training practices they manage to include in an already jam-packed work day. I was grateful the keepers also made time for me!

Stay tuned for Part II of my exciting Visit-a-Job day, where we meet up with the bonobos and drop back in on Frank.

Karyl Carmignani is a staff writer for the San Diego Zoo. Read her previous post, Chicken Noodle Soup (Part 2).

0

Langurs: Bright-Orange Babies

You may think most newborn monkeys would blend in with their mothers. However, with silver-leaf langurs it is quite the opposite: their babies are a beautiful bright orange! There are several theories as to why this is; unfortunately, it is unknown which theory is accurate.

Theory 1: It makes it easy for the mothers to find them, as young langurs like to explore. They can sometimes travel a little too far away from their mothers. Being bright orange, their mothers can easily spot and retrieve them.

Theory 2: The orange actually helps the babies blend into their surroundings. It seems hard to believe that bright orange could be used as camouflage, unless maybe the orange would make them appear as a bright-colored flower on a tree. Most predators are color blind and cannot tell the difference between orange and green.

Theory 3: The coloration lets the other troop members know a new baby has arrived and they need to all share in the caring for the infant. A baby langur can wear a mother out, so having a troop full of babysitters allows Mom to rest. The babysitters can also relieve the mother so she can get something to eat.

The theories I have mentioned are a lot more detailed than what you have just read. It is a matter of opinion as to which theory you believe to be the most likely. Silver-leaf langur babies turn from orange to silver at about three months of age, slowly changing color starting as early as just under a month old.

We now have two orange additions to our troop: one born on February 26, 2009, to Tevy and Aden, and the other on April 13, 2009, to Adamena and Aden. Tevy’s baby is already changing color around her face. So to see two bright orange babies, you will have to hurry to the Zoo’s Sun Bear Forest habitat, because Adamena’s baby is following close behind. They will both be silver before we know it!

Beth McDonald is a senior keeper at the San Diego Zoo.

Read Beth’s previous blog, Silver-leaf Langurs.