Animals in Danger

        We're on our way to the zoo. It's part of the payback for convincing Theo (our gangster cat) to help us during the missing Mico sink drainer incidents. Snacks were involved, of course. But a trip to the zoo to see the "special animals" is part of the deal, too. 

      The conversation went something like this:

      Theo: I want to see them, see. 

       Dan: Yes, of course. We'll take you to the zoo so you can see them face to face.  

       Theo: And save them.

       It's hard to know what's rolling around in the mind of a cat. Sometimes it's obvious--that plaintive meow usually means he wants a treat. Other times, his desire to save them makes no sense at the time. 

       We are within driving distance of the Philadelphia Zoo. It is one of my favorite places to go. I love animals. All kinds of animals--especially the big cats and the giraffes. And the monkeys.

        This time, however, we are going to see the "special animals." Or in adult speak, some of the endangered species. In danger of becoming non-existent. Whose habitat is threatened. 

         You have to go inside a building at the zoo to see them. You walk down a hallway which seems to me like you're walking down death's row. I am acutely aware of what these animals face. Their chances of survival. Theo is with us, but I'm not sure how much he understands. Dan has him in a special carrier so our curious and concerned cat can see these animals up close and personal. 

          We arrive at the first exhibit. The Pied Tamarin is described as being bald, beautiful and in trouble. They live in the forests of Brazil, in forests which are being destroyed. Species in Danger in red ink catches our attention. 

                   We try to explain to Theo that if the forest trees are knocked down, these little guys will have no place to live. He seems to understand. He's looking very intently.

             "Like the squirrels," I point out. He knows what squirrels are. 

          We move on. The Francois langur hails from China and Vietnam. A new baby Quy Bau was born in 2020 and has thrived. Baby Lei was born in 2021. Zoos help with breeding so endangered animals survive. We catch the family on video acting a lot like monkeys.

            Theo enjoys watching the langurs swing around in their cage, but as we move on, he gives me a soulful look. 

           The Rodrigues fruit bat is another species in danger. These bats roost together during the day, but during the night they disperse and seek out the juice of ripe fruit such as mangoes and figs. Contrary to popular folklore, they do not suck blood. They are also endangered, of course. 

           At first, they're difficult to spot, but I can tell the moment that Theo sees his first fruit bat. It is a sight to see as he slowly opens his large wings to stretch. 

           "Are bats like birds?" he asks.

           The easy answer is best. "Well, they can fly like birds."

 

       We figure one more "special animal," before we move on. All the White Faced Saki Monkeys don't have white faces, only the boy monkeys. They are usually calm and quiet until they aren't. They can puff up their fur and bounce up and down on branches when they're doing their territorial call. They live in South America.  

              

           It's time to go and we begin to head toward the door, but Theo squirms in Dan's arms and manages to drop to the floor.  

 

           "Theo, what is it?"

           Theo is a cat of few meows. He looks over at the White Faced Saki Monkeys. "We need to save them, see?"

           Now I get it. He thinks these Saki Monkeys are literally the last ones . . . I turn to Dan and squinch up my face. How do you explain to Theo that the problem of endangered species is much bigger than saving one family of White Faced Saki Monkeys? 

           As we ponder our dilemma, Theo moves over to their cage. He cases the joint, looking for a way to jump up. He sniffs every nook and cranny. 

           "These monkey are safe," we say. "But other Saki monkeys need some help."

  

           He shoots us that look, the kind that teenagers give their parents when they think they're full of it. I expect him to meow, "Whatever."

          "We can send food." (Make a donation.)

          Dan hoists Theo up so he can get closer, and he presses his face against the glass. 

          We leave the building with mixed feelings. On the one hand we're so proud that our furry boy cares. On the other hand, the three of us wish we could do more.

           Later, back at home, I wax philosophical at Theo. "We know what's going on. Now we can let other people know."

           "It's not fair, see?"

           And Theo is absolutely right.

           

             

Chuck and his Gorilla Infatuation

     The oldest gorilla in the world--a female--who happens to live in the Berlin Zoo just turned 66 years old. It was all over the news. The zoo celebrated her birthday by delivering branches filled with a large assortment of fruits, vegetables and watermelon (with a big 66 carved into it), a selection like she might find in the wild, if she were on her own and one day was very lucky and hit the jackpot. Ha. Ha.

    The remarkable thing about Fatou was, indeed, her age. Most gorillas live to be about 35 years old and can live to be 50. So Fatou is beating the odds. In 2022 Ozzie, the oldest living male gorilla was 61 years old when he died in captivity.  

    Sometimes that's all Chucky needs to hear--a captivating animal in captivity story--to get his heart racing. 

    "No, Chuck. We are not flying to Berlin to meet Fatou."

    Imagine the Rascal Cat pouting.

    "Gorillas either need to live in the wild or they need to be behind glass in captivity."

    More pouting.

    Dan intervenes at this point. "The closest gorillas I know live at--"

    Before I can shush him, the proverbial cat is out of the bag. We are on our way to the Philadelphia Zoo to meet the infamous gorilla family. There are five of them, and there is always a crowd. Dad and mom and three "kids," younger gorillas who have come from all over and are now part of this wonderful, sprawling gorilla family.

 

 

    You can watch them in their inside quarters--behind glass. Or when they're outside, you can watch them hang around outside--behind glass. 

    Unfortunately, the glass is usually smudged with the fingerprints of kids who point and press their noses up to get a closer look. 

    Gorillas spend a lot of time sleeping. So when they're active, it's a real treat. Of the five, the most impressive is Motuba. He's the dad and the one Chuck becomes instantly obsessed with. 

    

    When I've been at this zoo before, Motuba has been sleeping. The younger gorillas swing around. They jump from place to place. Basically entertain the people that come to visit. But Motuba sits in a corner. And sleeps. Or looks for something to eat. 

    This time, and maybe because Chucky wants it so much, Motuba saunters right over to where we are standing behind glass (waiting for something to happen) and plops down in front of Chuck. 

    Motuba is massive. I can see right away Chuck is impressed. Dan holds Chuck up so that Chuck can get a good look at him. Chuck has a million questions and there's no one better to ask than Dan, semi-genius.

    "Gorillas eat plants, mostly," he explains to Chuck. "And they love to eat. In fact, they can eat all day long." (Chuck can definitely identify with that.)

    "How strong are they?" I ask.

    "They are four to five times stronger than people. An adult gorilla is about 4 1/2 feet tall, but they have long arms. A girl gorilla's arms are 6 1/2 feet long. A boy gorilla's arms can be 8 feet long."

    I ask the question that is on my mind. "Are they dangerous?" 

    Dan shakes his head. "Actually, gorillas are quite shy and reserved. They attack people only if they feel threatened. Usually they will roar first and do a make believe charge to scare you before they attack."

    I have to admit, they are fascinating to watch.

    

      They are like us in so many ways. They live in family groups. They hang around with each other, cozy up to each other. They use tools. They laugh, and they grieve. 

    I remind Chuck that Koko was a female gorilla in captivity who learned 2,000 words in sign language so she could communicate. 

    When it's time to leave and go to another exhibit, Chucky doesn't want to go. I get nervous. Chuck usually has a plan, a scheme. 

    "We can't stay here all day."

    Chuck meows.

    "Oh, no. We can't take Motuba with us. He has his family. This is where he lives. There's no such thing as adopting a daddy gorilla."

    Chuck looks too forlorn for words. I hate disappointing the kid, but there's no way I'm bringing home a 600 pound gorilla. I have to think fast. I casually glance at my watch. "Isn't it time for your snack?"

    That's one thing Chuck and Motuba have in common. Eating all day long. Chucky's eyes light up. Reluctantly he leaves. Well, not that reluctantly. But before he goes, Chuck puts his face right up to the glass and waits. Sure enough, Motuba glances over and tilts his head, as if trying to figure out why Chuck looks so different from every other kid who's there.

    Later I say to Chuck, "You might have been the first cat Motuba ever saw. Imagine that."

PS If you happened to read last week's blog, Rascal Chuck's Favorite Snake, you'll want to know Chuck's choice for the snakiest snake:

                                     The Green Anaconda

    

    

Rascal Chuck's Favorite Snake

    I am no fan of snakes. When I was a kid, a snake slid over my foot in my girlfriend Donna's backyard. I screamed for an hour. When I was a principal, I was forced to stand still while a boa constrictor was wrapped around my neck during a snake presentation for fifth graders. And be brave about it. 

    Chuck, my rascal cat, feels the exact opposite. He loves snakes. He finds them fascinating. When we visit the Philadelphia Zoo recently and discover the Rare Animal Conservation Center is open (finally), Chucky clamors to see the snakes. 

    "What for?" I want to know. They are enclosed behind glass. Some of them are poisonous. Or they can kill you by constricting the air out of your body. "Don't go in there if all you want to do is free the snakes, Chuck."

    But he just wants to see them. Admire them. "And, mom, take some photos so humans can appreciate them," he meows.

    Dan is the one who suggests asking our readers to make a decision. "We can showcase five snakes and let everyone decide which snake they think is the best."

    "The creepiest," I say.

    "The best example of snakiness," is Chucky's vision.

    So in we go. The Conservation Center is necessarily dark. Exhibits flank either side. The place is crowded with moms and dads and lots of kids. Everyone has their camera. Several kids want to adopt a snake they see and take them home. Their parents laugh. No way. Chucky thinks the parents have a poor attitude.

    We trudge along. 

    Exhibit #1 is the Northern Water Snake which lives in central North America. This snake is unique because the baby eggs stay inside the mom until they are ready to hatch. When the babies are born, they come out as little snakelets, much like human babies. No eggs here. The only difference is the snakelets are completely independent of their moms. And, they're snakes, of course.

    Chucky wants to see a snakelet. Wriggling around. Unfortunately, the snake on display is full grown and stares right at him. 

       Exhibit #2 is the Timber rattlesnake which lives in the NE United States. These snakes are venomous and like to hibernate in deep crevices in rocks. They return year after year to the same place, which makes them an easy target for destruction! Today they are in danger of extinction, which is sad. I'm trying to have sympathy for them. I hate to see any creature get obliterated from the earth, even if it is a snake.

    If there was no glass separating this snake from us, the innocents observers, Chucky would have jumped right in. 

    "I want to sniff him," he meows. 

    "Not today."

    Exhibit #3 is the West African Gaboon Viper. It grows six feet long and six inches in diameter. Despite their size, the pattern on their skin and shape of their head allows them to hide on the floor of a forest and ambush small mammals and birds. Well, that sounds terrible to me. These are BIG snakes. You would not want to casually come upon one of these giants in the forest. No way.

    That's my humble opinion. Not Chuck's. 

    I try to explain. "Chuck, you're considered a small mammal. This snake could eat you. Gulp. You're history."

    Chucky shrugs. He'll take his chances.

    Exhibit #4 is the Pueblan Milk Snake found in central Mexico. It is a beautiful snake--look at that pattern on its skin. And it looks nearly identical to another snake that is venomous. The Pueblan Milk snake is not poisonous. It's fake look helps protect it against predators. Pretty cool.

    We stay at this exhibit a long time. Chuck is fascinated watching this snake writher around. There are signs all over asking us not to bang against the glass. Chucky, of course, ignores those signs. He bangs away. 

    Exhibit #5 is the Green Anaconda. This snake is one of the largest predators in South America. They eat waterfowl and reptiles and can even snatch a monkey from a branch that happens to be hanging over the water. (That part about the monkey really freaked me out.) This photo does not do this snake justice. It is enormous. But it is a bit heartwarming to see two of them cuddled together. Yeah, even in the snake world, there is love.

    

     At the end of our snake experience, I ask Chuck one more time, "Did you really like seeing all those snakes?"

    He tilted his whiskered face as if to say--Are you crazy--Of course. I liked seeing them slither and slide along the ground. I liked their faces.  

    Meow. Meow.

    Stay tuned next week to find out which snake was Chucky's favorite.  And if you have a favorite, leave a comment and let us know!!!