April 25 is World Penguin Day, making it the perfect time to ponder these astonishing birds.

Why are penguins cool? Well, why wouldn’t they be? Let’s dive in and check it out.

There are 18 different species of penguins spread through the Southern hemisphere—from the equatorial waters of the Galápagos Islands all the way down to the coldest temperatures on the planet in Antarctica (where it has reached –127 degrees Fahrenheit).

There are penguins in South America (the Humboldt and Magellanic); Africa (the African penguins that we have at the Zoo); Antarctica (the emperor, Adélie, and chinstrap); and among the sub-Antarctic islands (the king, gentoo, macaroni, rockhopper, and royal).

Surprisingly, the largest collection of different species is found in New Zealand and its surrounding seas (the little blue, yellow-eyed, Fiordland crested, erect crested, and Snares island penguins). In fact, the oldest penguin fossils were found in New Zealand, so that’s where penguins are thought to have originated. With so many different types of penguins, you’ll be surprised to know that just about the only thing they ALL have in common is that they are birds who are champion swimmers, and all of their meals come from the ocean!

Penguins range in size from the 2-pound, little blue penguin to the emperor, weighing close to 90 pounds. Emperor penguins aren’t just huge, they’re pretty tough birds. Not only do they endure the cold darkness of the Antarctic winter while incubating their eggs for 2.5 months (after having waddled 60 miles to their breeding grounds), they do so without eating for nearly 90 days. If you’re not yet convinced of their superhero status, they’ve been recorded diving as deep as 1,774 feet and can hold their breath for 20 minutes; that’s deeper and longer than just about any marine mammal that’s been studied.

Penguins are colonial, which means they are more comfortable in very large groups. Some penguins might build their nest out of rocks, sticks, and bones close to many other nests in coastal areas. Other species build theirs near the sea by digging deep underground burrows with their feet. These burrows help them stay cooler during hot days and warmer at night. There are even penguins who don’t build nests at all! Emperor and king penguins lay a single egg and then scoop it on top of their feet, and incubate it there until it hatches. Then, they keep their chick on their warm feet and off the cold ground until it’s too big to fit anymore. In a fascinating twist, the yellow-eyed penguin swims up freshwater streams into the forest, to find a nesting area that is out of sight and hearing range of other penguin pairs.

The only part of penguins that isn’t cool is their insulation—but it is in the slang sense! Like all birds, they are covered in feathers. But a penguin’s plumage is a unique arrangement of densely packed feathers, which acts like a dry suit to keep it warm in the frigid waters they swim in (even penguins that live in warmer land areas have to deal with cold seawater). The tightly packed feathers also provide a streamlined outer layer, helping to keep the birds hydrodynamic and able swim effortlessly at top speeds.

There is no other type of animal that is so widely spread across an enormous geographic range or displays so many unique characteristics among its members. So, yep, penguins are VERY cool!

You’re probably wondering which are the coolest penguins. If you ask me (a penguin care specialist) it’s no contest—the African penguins at the San Diego Zoo take that title! This species inhabits the southern shores of South Africa. They enjoy our weather in San Diego, which is so similar to their native South Africa. And each member of our penguin colony has their own unique personality, whether it is sweet or saucy. Our penguins are definitely the coolest. But that may be my professional bias speaking—what’s your favorite penguin?

For even more penguin-icity, click over and check out our virtual World Penguin Day 2020 activities!

Debbie Denton is an animal care specialist at the San Diego Zoo. Read her previous blog, The Hatch of 2020.

As a little kid growing up in Seattle, springtime always held the expectation of longer, warmer days amidst blinding blue skies and a symphony of flower blooms. Along with the smell of fresh cut grass and lilacs bursting with their purple glory came the onslaught of my favorite insect: the ladybug. Even my most cherished piece of kid jewelry represented the little round creature—a pendant where you pushed on its head and the red, sparkly wings snapped open to reveal a clock. It was cool! Outside, my grandmother would patiently hold my hand near a ladybug until it walked onto me, confident as a lion, while I turned my fingers this way and that to observe its urgent trek. Never stinging, biting, or even giving me the stink eye, ladybugs always seemed like genuine friendship material, if not a bit flighty. Ladybugs have a few super powers I didn’t learn about until I was grown up—my grandmother was right to introduce them to me. Now it’s my turn to share the secrets and magic of this little insect.

There are about 5,000 ladybug species, with about 175 species in California. The most familiar type in the US is the seven-spotted ladybug sporting the classic shiny, red-and-black dome. My grandmother told me that the number of spots indicated how old the ladybug was, and while not scientifically accurate—some species live 2 to 3 years, regardless of the number (or absence) of spots—it did improve my counting skills and facilitate a fascination with observing wildlife. The seven-spotted ladybug is actually native to Europe, but was brought to North America in the mid-1900s to control the crop-consuming aphid population. No wonder they are considered a good luck charm in many cultures!

Ladybugs are also known as lady beetles or ladybird beetles. Why so feminine? Thank our friends across the pond—European farmers prayed to the Virgin Mary when pests began devouring their crops and were rewarded with swarms of ladybugs who wiped out the invaders; they were thus named “beetle of Our Lady.” This morphed into “ladybird beetle,” “lady beetle” and finally, fondly, “ladybug.” Speaking of morphing, ladybugs go through remarkable changes to arrive at the endearing creature we enjoy seeing.

Change is in the Air

Ladybugs (like butterflies) undergo four stages in their life cycle: egg, larva, pupa, and adult. First, a female ladybug lays her tiny, golden eggs on the underside of leaves, ideally near an aphid colony. Some of the eggs are infertile, which serve as food for the fertile larvae. Food scarcity determines the ratio of fertile to infertile eggs, according to InsectCop. When these larva hatch, they look like tiny alligators with six little legs and spikes on their orange spotted, black back. They squiggle around in your garden feasting on aphids and mites. They shed their outer skeleton several times during this phase. Next, they find a secure spot for a two-week period of “lockdown” and form a cocoon. This is the pupa stage. At last, it magically transforms into an adult ladybug! Upon emerging, its exoskeleton is soft and light in color—it takes a few hours for it to harden and darken.

Change is in the Air Part II

Have you ever seen a ladybug in the winter? Me neither! It’s likely because these little rascals congregate in large groups (no social distancing needed) to hibernate, or diapause, as it is called in the insect world. Not only does it serve as “match.com” for ladybugs (yes, there are male ladybugs!), but it also helps them stay warm and conserve energy in the absence of food. They gather in logs, buildings, ground cover, and even beneath snow drifts. Incredibly, ladybugs can diapause for up to nine months with nothing to eat or drink! They emerge in the spring when the weather warms to 55 degrees Fahrenheit and food becomes available (watch out, aphids, they are hungry!). And that’s when people of all ages can pause in wonder at these lucky little harbingers of spring.

Karyl Carmignani is a staff writer for San Diego Zoo Global. Read her previous blog, Beckoning Birds, Bees, and Other Beings: Why Flowers Are So Colorful.

There are more than 350 species of turtles and tortoises that share our planet. They are categorized into two groups, based on how their neck retracts. Most pull their neck straight in, but others throw a curve by folding their neck to the side instead.

UNDERWATER, DOWN UNDER
The broad-shelled snake-necked turtle Chelodina expansa, travels waterways  with its neck fully extended.  This genus has only four claws on its forelimbs, while other turtles in its native Australia have five.

Those that pull the neck straight in belong to the Suborder Cryptodira: tortoises, sea turtles, and box turtles (cryptodires). Those in the Suborder Pleurodira, however, have a different angle. Rather than pulling into the shell, a pleurodire bends its neck sideways, tucking its head along its side. Although the neck and head are not hidden, a generous overhang of the carapace (top shell) offers protection.

Watching some of the pleurodire species in Reptile Walk’s Turtle Building reveals another amazing attribute. If a flexible, folded neck doesn’t catch your eye, the extension of it will. These turtles have surprisingly long necks—earning them their other common name of snake-necked turtles.

IS THAT A SMILE I SEE?
A rounded jaw and short snout create what looks to be a smile on the red-bellied short necked turtle Emydura subglobosa of Papua New Guinea and northern Australia.

Neck and Neck

The name Pleurodira translates from Latin as “side neck,” and the common names for this group vacillate between side-necked and snake-necked. Cryptodira means “hidden neck” and is just as apt. What makes one neck different from the other? Why don’t side-necked turtles simply pull their head in, the way cryptodires do? The neck function is based on form.

All turtles alive today have eight cervical vertebrae, but a difference in structure contributes to each group’s retraction style. Unlike cryptodires, the neck bones of pleurodires are narrow in cross-section, and one or more of these bones is convex (curving outward) on both upper and lower surfaces. This allows them to function as a double joint, resulting in the side-necked turtle’s impressive neck flexibility.

MASTER OF CAMOUFLAGE
The matamata turtle Chelus fimbriatus lives a well-camouflaged life in the Amazon basin in Guianas, Ecuador, Colombia, Venezuela, Peru, and Bolivia.

Big Gulp

Without a doubt, one of the side-necked turtles, the matamata Chelus fimbriatus, is the strangest-looking turtle in the world. Its appearance and name even sound like something Dr. Seuss might have created. It is rarely confused with any other species, because there is nothing that even comes close.
With a jagged-edged, reddish carapace, lappets hanging from the neck, and a habit of staying still, the matamata looks like the dead leaves and mud it rests among at the bottom of shallow, stagnant bodies of water. It’s a perfect camouflage for this ambush predator! As small fish, frogs, tadpoles, and other potential prey approach, the turtle makes its move. Swinging its head in the direction of prey, it suddenly opens its mouth wide, creating a strong suction that pulls its meal into its gaping maw.

CALM WATERS
Red-headed river turtle Podocnemis erythrocephala  tend to live in quiet water zones like swamps in Brazil, Colombia, and Venezuela.

The matamata may be unique in appearance, but it isn’t the only side-necked turtle to just “let it flow” while feeding. Red-headed river turtles Podocnemis erythrocephala are mostly herbivores. Feeding on aquatic plants requires some biting and tearing, but these turtles also use the open-mouth technique to take in fine particles of algae and bits of decaying plants floating at the surface of the water.

SOAKING UP THE SUN
East African black mud turtles Pelusios subniger subniger spend time basking on logs and rocks in their southeastern Africa, Seychelles, and eastern Madagascar habitats.

The Water Is Fine

The sinuous throat of pleurodires is a trait that sticks out like a…well, a neck. But another unique trait is concealed beneath the shell—and it brings up the rear. The pelvis of a pleurodire is fused to the carapace and not flexible. In contrast, cryptodires have an unfused, more flexible pelvis. “Studies of turtle and tortoise movement suggest that flexibility is beneficial to moving on land,” explains Brett Baldwin, a wildlife care expert in the Herpetology department. “But a fused pelvic region may be beneficial to moving in water. A pelvis fused to the carapace is actually an ancient trait, and pleurodires are one of the most ancient turtle groups living today.”

Without needing space for a flexible pelvis, the carapace of side-necked turtles has a lower, more streamlined profile. They don’t leave the water often, spending most of their time resting at the bottom of wetlands, streams, rivers, and lakes. With a few exceptions, most feed on bottom-dwelling mollusks and worms, tadpoles, insects, crabs, and small fish. The East African serrated mud turtle Pelusios sinuatus even has a helpful habit: it feeds on ticks attached to large mammals that wade into waterholes.

BIG TURTLE
Male Madagascar big-headed turtles Erymnochelys madagascariensis can reach more than 18 inches in length and weigh around 20 pounds.

While some side-necked turtle species haul out on beaches to bask in the sun, others like to stay closer to water and use logs as a safe spot to warm up. But when it’s time to lay eggs, a female cautiously sets out to find a nesting spot on land—sometimes traveling thousands of yards from the safety of the water. After laying and covering her eggs, the female returns to her aquatic home. The incubation time for many species varies greatly, depending on when the rains arrive.

MULTI-USE ADAPTATION
The long, serpentine neck on pleurodires like this Roti Island snake-necked turtle gives greater range when snatching prey and allows the animal to snorkel for a breath while keeping most of its body well beneath the surface.

A Rare Sight

Their propensity for staying in the water makes side-necked turtles a challenge to see in their native habitats. In some cases, plummeting populations, severe droughts, and land-use changes ratchet up the rareness. For example, Roti Island snake-necked turtles Chelodina mccordi are critically endangered. They are threatened by ecosystem modifications for human industries and the resulting waterway pollution; invasive introduced species and diseases; and drought. These factors combine to create an alarming situation on their island home in Indonesia, and their populations are severely diminished.

Then in the early 1990s, a spike in the number of Roti Island snake-necked turtles taken for the international pet trade devastated the population. Within a few years, the island population was considered ecologically extinct. Breeding and building assurance populations under protected care—such as zoos and aquariums—is working to bring these turtles back.

Building assurance populations, community conservation efforts, and setting aside protected areas are vital parts of the effort to bring side-necked turtle species—and other endangered turtles and tortoises—back from the brink of extinction. These species have been on Earth for a very long time. Here’s hoping that together we can make sure their ancient lineage continues.

One evening last fall, as wildlife care specialist Breanne Murray brought the Safari Park gorilla troop inside for the night, she noticed something wasn’t quite right with the youngster of the troop, three-year-old Leslie. “Although she wasn’t displaying any behavioral symptoms, her left eye was cloudy—it had become completely opaque,” says Breanne.

SEEING CLEARLY NOW
Leslie takes time out from playing to get a better look at Safari Park visitors—who are enjoying her antics.

“At first, we didn’t know for sure what was wrong,” says Park veterinarian Meredith Clancy, DVM. “But it looked like a cataract.” Dr. Clancy has worked with veterinary ophthalmologists on cataract surgeries for lions and birds, but because primates are more similar to humans, she wanted to consult a human ophthalmologist. She reached out to Christopher Heichel, M.D., an ophthalmologist with UC San Diego Shiley Eye Institute, who has experience with cataracts in younger patients. “From the moment we started talking to Dr. Heichel, he seemed like the best technical expert for this problem,” says Dr. Clancy.

BABY GIRL
The beloved “baby” of the Safari Park’s troop, Leslie was born October 19, 2016, to mom Kokamo and troop leader Winston.

Dr. Heichel jumped at the chance to help. “It took me less than a second to know that this surgery was something I wanted to do,” he says. “And my next thought was, ‘How?’” While Dr. Heichel performs a lot of challenging eye surgeries, Leslie would be his first nonhuman patient. His first order of business was a house call, but protective mom Kokamo wasn’t keen about allowing this stranger close to her youngster. With a portable ophthalmoscope, Dr. Heichel was able to get a quick glimpse into Leslie’s eye before mom scooped her away. He diagnosed her with a cataract that probably resulted from an injury—likely sustained while playing and roughhousing with her siblings.

Knowing that planning and logistics for an eye surgery would take some time, both doctors were eager to get the process started. Dr. Heichel explains that in human children, “The visual cortex stops processing images from the bad eye after a while.” Waiting too long might mean that Leslie’s brain would essentially stop “seeing” with her left eye.

EYE EXAM
Dr. Heichel performed an ultrasound to rule out a tumor or a detached retina.

Leslie was too young to be separated from her mom, so the procedure had to involve Kokamo, too. “That increased everything exponentially,” says lead wildlife care specialist Peggy Sexton. The veterinary team immobilized both gorillas at the same time, so that mom and daughter could fall asleep together at the gorilla habitat and wake up together at the gorilla habitat. “I didn’t want mom to go to sleep before the baby did—and I didn’t want them to remember any of it, if possible,” Peggy says.

Once the two gorillas were anesthetized, teams of wildlife care specialists, veterinarians, and vet technicians jumped into action, driving them to the Safari Park’s Paul Harter Veterinary Medical Center. They bathed Leslie and trimmed her nails—to reduce the chance of introducing bacteria in case she rubbed her eyes. Then they moved the little gorilla into a sterile surgery room, where Dr. Heichel could take his first good look at Leslie’s cataract, under a microscope, and measure her eye.

TAKING A GOOD LOOK
In surgery,Dr. Heichel was able to examine Leslie’s eye under a microscope. He depended upon what he knew from pediatric cataract surgeries to determine the best lens for the implant.

For Dr. Heichel, the surgery itself was the most comfortable part of the process. “It’s the exact same surgery as in humans,” he says. “The lens in a gorilla’s eye is essentially identical to ours.” He explains that the lens rests in a clear, membranous envelope, held in place by a ring of tiny fibers. In an eye injury, some of the fibers can be damaged, so he opted to insert a device called a tension ring, to help support the new lens. Then, just as he would do in a human, he made a tiny opening in the envelope to remove the clouded lens and implant the new, artificial one.

READY TO GO
Leslie is back in action, and that includes playing and cuddling with six-year-old Joanne.

“The unknown was how she would do postoperatively,” says Dr. Heichel, who knew there was “no way she was going to wear the usual postoperative, protective shield on her eye.” The day after the surgery, he visited the Safari Park to check on his patient. True to form, “Kokamo was a little suspicious of me,” he says. “She protectively scooped Leslie away.” Luckily, the wildlife care team took amazing, closeup photos and videos of Leslie’s eye. “They’re used to us taking our phones out and taking pictures of them,” says senior wildlife care specialist Kelly Casavant. “One of us holding a phone up to her face was nothing to her. We’d email them, and everyone could take a look.” (See sidebar to learn how wildlife care specialists administered post-op eye meds.)

PLAYTIME
Leslie is a healthy, active three-year-old, and that means plenty of play throughout the day. Cataract surgery hasn’t slowed down this fun-loving girl one bit.

“The images were very reassuring,” says Dr. Heichel. Even better, Kokamo gradually accepted Dr. Heichel’s attention to Leslie. On one visit, when Kokamo noticed Dr. Heichel, she picked up her daughter…and carried her over to him so he could have a look at her. “That visit was so special,” he says.

Park visitors will attest that little Leslie is back to her usual self. “I am so grateful to have had this opportunity to work with the awesome team at the Safari Park and help a truly amazing animal,” says Dr. Heichel. While both Dr. Clancy and Dr. Heichel credit the wildlife care team with the success of the operation, the wildlife care specialists give the credit to the gorillas. Kelly says, “If it weren’t for Leslie and Kokamo being who they are, we wouldn’t have been able to do this.”

VISION FOR THE FUTURE
Dr. Heichel’s experience helped him select the right lens for Leslie. “I had to predict how much her eye is going to change as she grows,” he says. “The lens that would be just right for now, wouldn’t necessarily give her the best vision when she is a teenager or adult.” It’s the same decision he has to make with children. “As the eye grows, the vision will change slightly over the next few years.” For Leslie, “I used a lens that will give her better and better vision as she ages.”

Follow-up care

For weeks after the surgery, Leslie would need medication applied to her healing eye. Beforehand, “We did a lot of talking about, ‘How are we going to do this?’” says Kelly. Anyone who has had to give their pet medication can appreciate the challenge. “Gorillas don’t like water on them, and they certainly don’t like anyone putting stuff in their eyes,” she says. So the team set about desensitizing Leslie to the process, which was complicated by the fact that they had to occupy her mom Kokamo at the same time.

Eventually, Leslie allowed Kelly to drop a bit of saline solution into her eye. “She didn’t love it,” says Kelly, “but she tolerated it.” But just as things seemed to be going well, Leslie hit a developmental milestone. Like a human toddler, “She became more independent, and ‘said no’ more often, and drops in her eye were a big ‘no,’ so it was back to the drawing board.”

Kelly was pleased—and somewhat surprised—when Leslie allowed her to touch and massage around the little gorilla’s eyes. After the surgery, Leslie allowed her to apply medication by dabbing it into the corner of her eye—twice a day for 2 weeks, then once a day for 10 days. “How many times will a baby sit there and let you smear something like Neosporin in her eye as she’s eating something?” Kelly marvels. The secret to success turned out to be a smear of peanut butter frozen onto a wooden tongue depressor. “She had to work at it a little bit, and you have time to get the medicine in,” says Kelly. “She didn’t love us sticking our fingers in her eye, but she let us do it.”

Imagine you are hiking on a warm day in spring in the rocky foothills east of Escondido, in San Diego’s North County. Approaching a pile of granite boulders, you hear a sharp click. Then another: click-click. You freeze, as rapid clicks blur into a familiar buzz. For many people, the sound of a rattlesnake rattle provokes fear. For some San Diego Zoo researchers, though, the sound triggers sheer excitement; somewhere nearby is just the animal they were searching for!

Red diamond rattlesnakes (one of four rattlesnakes in our region) are the subject of a new project led by researchers from the San Diego Zoo Global Population Sustainability team and Natural Lands Program. Currently, our work focuses on red diamond rattlesnakes that live in the Safari Park Biodiversity Reserve (SPBDR), a 900-acre coastal sage scrub preserve at the Safari Park.

Like many other snakes, red diamonds follow predictable seasonal patterns. During the coldest months, to save energy, red diamond rattlesnakes use overwintering sites. Usually, these are boulder jumbles with plenty of nooks and crannies that offer protection from predators and extreme fluctuations in temperature.

One aim of our study is to understand the population genetics and den use behavior of this species. Den sites are where many of the rare but important moments of social interaction in a rattlesnake’s life take place. Researchers have documented instances of breeding and male-male combat near dens, but many questions remain. For example, if snakes return to the dens every year and they breed near them, how do they avoid inbreeding? Do young snakes disperse to new territories? Or are there behavioral traits that help them maintain genetic diversity?

To answer these questions, we are taking blood samples from snakes we find in the SPBDR, placing a unique identifying microchip (called a Passive Integrated Transponder, or PIT tags), and marking their rattles with non-toxic paint for visual identification. The 10-minute process takes place in the field and we release the snakes exactly where they were found. Analysis of DNA extracted from the blood samples will tell us the relatedness of all the individuals we handled (who are mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, and even distant cousins?).

We can later check up on individuals we spot in the field again without even touching them. As long as the PIT tag reader wand is within 1.5 feet of the microchip, we can pick up the information logged in the transponder. Over time, with enough encounters, we can start to piece together a picture of who traveled where, and when.

Later this year, we plan to do a deeper dive into patterns of den use by red diamond rattlesnakes. Field researchers often use remote-triggered, fixed camera systems to study animal movements. The most common type uses an infrared beam to detect the heat signature of an animal, which then triggers the camera to record a short video of burst of photos. Being poikilotherms, however, rattlesnake body temperatures are often too close to the surrounding air and ground temperature values to trigger infrared sensors.

We are collaborating with our Conservation Technology Lab (CTL) to develop brand new tools and techniques to detect rattlesnakes coming and going from dens. CTL researchers are developing an entirely new camera system to detect rattlesnakes as they pass. Another detection tool we’ll set up later this year is an array of PIT tag readers that will also monitor the entrances of important overwintering sites, passively logging snakes coming and going from the area. Besides saving time and funding, using automated, remote data logging systems mean that no human needs to be nearby to operate them—guaranteeing the most natural behavior possible from the snakes.

Despite their outsized reputation, rattlesnakes are important to habitat health. Yet, there’s still much about their behavior and ecological role. We hope to fill in some of the gaps with this project, allowing us to make better decisions about their conservation. We also hope that telling their story will help people appreciate them as a valuable component of our remaining Southern California wildlands.

Charlie de la Rosa is the Natural Lands Manager for the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research.

Under a full moon, just after the Zoo closed for the evening on February 8, 2020, female river hippo Funani gave birth to her most recent calf at the San Diego Zoo. Since then, this fast-growing baby girl has proven to be both precious and precocious.

The calf, now four month old, was named Amahle (pronounced ah-MA-shleh), a Zulu word meaning “beautiful one.” Funani’s daughter is not only beautiful, she is also adventurous, smart, and testing her boundaries every day. “Amahle is more advanced than any other calf I’ve ever dealt with,” said Jen Chapman, senior wildlife care specialist at the Zoo. “This calf has been strong and independent from her first breath. I think Funani realizes she’s got a ‘wild child’ on her hands.”

MOM’S ALWAYS WATCHING
Funani is an experienced mom who knows how to keep her daughter out of trouble, using “teachable moments” to help Amahle learn the skills she needs to grow up strong and independent.

Perhaps all that self-confidence is understandable, given her celebrity status. Amahle appeared on national television—live from the Zoo—when she was less than a month old; her name was chosen by thousands of fans in an online vote held in conjunction with “Good Morning America”; and she’s made frequent appearances on social media—including a Facebook Live streaming event. However, Amahle has an experienced mom who knows how to keep her in line, keep her safe, and teach her what it takes to be a river hippo. “As a mom, Funani is a superstar,” Jen said. “She’s amazing. She takes every opportunity possible and makes it a teachable moment.”

Spirited from the Start

Soon after Amahle was born, her independent nature became evident. “At first, it was like Amahle didn’t have any idea that she was supposed to listen to Funani,” Jen recalled. “She was jumping around—rambunctious, wily, and precocious—and getting into the weirdest spots, just out of reach.” But Funani was calm, acting appropriately, and already establishing communication, Jen said. Funani was getting Amahle to move out of those spots and come back to her. She stayed with her calf, vocalizing and nudging her.

“Then I saw Funani and her calf finally bonding and communicating,” Jen said. “Funani was able to get Amahle to come to her again and again—and, one step at a time, Amahle gradually learned what to do. That’s important, because the pool is one area we can’t baby proof. That first night, there was a lot of stress. But it was amazing to see how quickly that bond was forming.”

Each Day Brings More to Learn

Funani is always watching Amahle, and is ready to help out if she needs it. But mom gives the calf plenty of space to explore on her own, Jen said. In the pool, that may mean keeping track of how long Amahle has been underwater, then coming up underneath to push Amahle to the surface when it’s time to take a breath. “As a one-and-a-half-month-old, Amahle was already holding her breath underwater for more than a minute,” Jen said.

By two months of age, 150-pound Amahle was not only nursing but also eating “gruel,” or pre-chewed food from her mother’s mouth, and was starting to mouth solid food. Most of her nutrition was still coming from nursing, but Amahle had discovered a fondness for greens and beet pulp.

Amahle has been an eager participant in training with wildlife care specialists, to allow her to participate in her own wellness care. “She knows how to open [her mouth] for us, and she allows us to do gum massages,” Jen said. “She’s teething now, and we’re seeing perfect tooth growth.” Amahle also knows how to target, or come to a specific requested location, Jen said. “On a normal morning with two training sessions, I asked Funani to target, in line with the target buoy on a stick. Funani targeted—then I heard her make her little grunts, and Amahle came over and touched the target.” The mother and daughter training sessions, mostly focusing on Funani and her behaviors, started out short but are gradually getting longer. “Amahle has these great little bursts of energy, then takes naps,” Jen said.

Dad’s Around the Corner

When Funani was getting ready to go into labor, she signaled that she was ready to separate from her mate, male hippo Otis—letting him know to keep his distance. Currently, Funani and Amahle are in the main outdoor habitat on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and weekends, while Otis has the outdoor habitat to himself on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

“Otis is our unsung hero: he was kind of pushed aside when Amahle was born, but he’s enjoying his ‘bachelor time’ right now,” Jen said. “When he’s with Funani, she’s dominant and only lets him have access to certain parts of the habitat. Now he’s on his own and is free to enjoy places he wouldn’t ordinarily be allowed in.”

All three hippos interact in the indoor area, with protected contact to ensure everyone’s safety. “Funani will walk the calf over to him for social time,” Jen said. “Funani and Otis can touch on top of the doors—I call it playing kissy face, because they put their chins on top and snort back and forth. And regardless of where they are throughout the day, they vocalize and communicate with each other.”

What’s Ahead?

Many developmental milestones lie ahead for Amahle. By the time she is six months old, she may weigh as much as 800 pounds. One cup of hippo’s milk provides about 550 calories, making it extremely nutritious. By one year of age, Amahle will be grazing on grass, eating more solid food, and nursing less often. While hippos in their native habitats nurse until they are nine months to a year old, “Here, it is a different story,” Jen said. “Our hippos don’t have to compete for food, so mom is not pushing them away, and they get to be a ‘baby’ a little longer.”

Other major achievements still on the horizon include getting to the deepest part of the pool, and reaching the far side without a rock to push up on, Jen said. “We’re not to that point yet.” Her low-frequency vocalizations will also become more audible, and all her teeth will come in. “She will be getting even more independent, and Funani will give her more space,” Jen added. “We’re already seeing some space between them—but the big milestone will be when Funani will remain in the pool when the calf is on the beach. Now, Funani will let her play in shallow water, but she is there watching to make sure Amahle doesn’t get out of her comfort zone.”

Hippos Still Face Threats

Hippos are listed as Vulnerable on the International Union for Conservation of Nature Red List of Threatened Species. In their native habitats in sub-Saharan Africa, they face threats from habitat loss, conflict with humans, and illegal hunting for bushmeat or the ivory in their canine teeth. “People often don’t realize how big a threat ivory trafficking is for hippos,” Jen said. “Even though it’s illegal, it’s still happening. A big ivory bust at a San Diego jewelry store in 2019 was right in our own backyard, not in another country. Hippos, like elephants, are still threatened.”

On a quiet morning at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park, Danielle Alifano, wildlife care specialist, opens the door along the back of the habitat and calls out to the inhabitant, who responds with a hiss. Danielle smiles. “That’s Newman’s way of saying good morning—it’s not an ‘upset’ or assertive hiss, just his way of making presence known,” she says. After few more rounds of call-and-response, Newman sticks his head out of the large tube he’s snuggled into. His green eyes survey his habitat, then Danielle. He stretches, hisses, and walks toward her.

SMALL IS COOL
Living in “small scale” has an advantage for a desert animal like the sand cat. Reduced size offers a high surface area to volume ratio, allowing for rapid excess heat loss. Smaller animals cool down quickly.

Newman is a sand cat, a small feline with short legs, a wide head, and tawny fur. About the size of a house cat, sand cats Felis margarita are the only cats to occur exclusively in desert habitat. They live in areas where less than 1 inch of rain falls each year, and surface temperatures can range from 124 degrees Fahrenheit during the day to 31 degrees Fahrenheit at night. To escape extreme temperatures, sandstorms, and predators, sand cats shelter in burrows. They can and do dig their own hideouts, but they also take advantage of abandoned dens and sometimes even share a space with another sand cat for a short time. Except for those rare instances, as well as breeding, sand cats live a mostly solitary life.

FURRY FEET
The undersides of Newman’s paws are furry, as in all sand cats. The hair provides traction on loose sand and insulates feet against the burning ground in the desert.

Surprisingly Sociable

“Sand cats are a very charismatic species found from northern Africa into the Middle East and southwestern Asia,” says Autumn Nelson, wildlife care supervisor at the Safari Park. “They have a reputation of being ‘feisty,’ but are known by people who work with them for having a more laid-back attitude. They quickly form attachments and relationships with their caregivers.”

That certainly seems to be the case with Newman. “He came to this area of the Park in January,” Danielle says. “We had his habitat filled with branches and covered with shade cloth, to give him privacy and time to get used to visitors. But it didn’t take long before he was stepping up to the window to get a closer look at people walking by. And he voluntarily interacted with us within his first week of ‘meeting’ us!”

Aside from human interaction, Newman finds a great deal to engage with in his habitat. Danielle pulls open a drawer revealing items some people use for their own cats: a ball in the groove of a round saucer, a flat puzzle with holes and crevices from which the cat removes bits of food, balls, and more. A separate cabinet holds a variety of scents, which are sprayed or dabbed on feathers. “He picks them up and rubs them on his face for the longest time,” Danielle says. “He really likes almond scent, as well as wintergreen, and ‘Him’ cologne, but his favorite fragrance is ‘BOD,’ which some folks may have at home.”

GATEKEEPER
Dense thickets of hair spanning the ear openings filter out blowing sand and debris, but let sound flow in.

The Ears Have It

The sounds of the Safari Park’s Nairobi Village, where he lives, add another dimension to his home. Newman can hear what goes on in the staff area behind his habitat, as sand cats have extraordinary hearing. If you have ever had a domestic cat sharing your home, you understand how excellent their hearing is—and sand cats surpass that.

On any cat, more than 20 muscles control each ear, and the ears can move independently; one can be pointed forward while the other is pointed back. Cat ears can quickly turn to catch sounds in all directions, including those behind the animal. They can hear the ultrasonic noises that small prey, like rodents, make, which are beyond our hearing range.

The ears of a sand cat are even more specialized. Although the external ear size is about equal to a house cat’s, the inner ear canal is twice the size. Studies show that a sand cat’s hearing sensitivity is about eight decibels greater than domestic cats’ for frequencies below two kilohertz. (Loudness is measured in decibels, while pitch is measured in kilohertz; two kilohertz is very high pitched.) Thick hair protects the inner ear.

HIDE AND PEEK
Newman’s wildlife care specialists place rocks, logs, and other “furniture” to give him the many hiding spots his species prefers. They also engage with him via hiding games through the glass and “puppet shows” with plush animals.

Getting to Know Them

The special bond that has developed between Newman and the wildlife care specialists is continually reinforced. During daily interaction sessions, Danielle or one of the other team members uses a target to lead Newman through behaviors that help monitor his well-being. For example, having him “rise up” allows for a good look at his belly and chest. Having him “station” on a scale lets staff record his body weight on a weekly basis. And if Newman doesn’t want to interact in a particular way at a certain moment? The staff will try again another time—Newman is the one who chooses.

THE LOOK
Wide-set ears (the better to hear from all directions) accentuate the broadness of a sand cat’s head, giving it its signature look.

Learning about the life of a sand cat in its desert habitat is rife with challenges. In addition to the extreme temperatures, these small cats prefer flat and rolling terrain, where their coloring provides perfect camouflage. Tracking sand cats is difficult. Fur on the soles of their feet (which provides traction on loose sand and protects against scorching surfaces) leaves less of a mark than a bare pad; their tracks are swept away as they are laid down.

In places like the Safari Park, however, we’re able to get a closer look and learn more each day. “Newman communicates with us through hisses and purrs,” Danielle says. “But we have heard him meow—to another small cat species, a black-footed cat.” What that difference in vocalizations means is unknown, but observations like these are important nonetheless. Sand cats occur at extremely low densities throughout their range. They seem to have a patchy distribution, and due to concern that their population is declining in size, the International Union for Conservation of Nature categorizes them as Least Concerned.”

UP CLOSE
Newman’s bond of trust with the Park’s wildlife care specialists helps us learn more about his kind close up, while researchers in the field work on better understanding the species’ range and population threats.

Special Focus

The Association of Zoos and Aquariums has a Species Survival Plan (SSP) program for sand cats. The goal is to share best practices in order to advance the welfare of sand cats through training, opportunities to thrive, and maintaining genetic diversity. Autumn is the Sand Cat SSP coordinator, as well as the one who maintains the studbook of genetic lineages for this species in zoos throughout North America.

“I’m really proud of how the program has grown,” Autumn says. “When I became the SSP coordinator in 2016, we had fewer than 20 sand cats in the North American population. Working closely with the facilities, choosing the best breeding recommendations, and adding new facilities, we’ve increased that to 46 cats!” In the US, 15 sites currently house sand cats, and 4 more will begin caring for some over the next year. You can keep up with the Sand Cat SSP—and enjoy pictures of these beautiful cats—on the group’s Facebook page.

In her role as SSP coordinator, Autumn has put a focus on best practices in care, and has been proactive about sharing success stories. “Most recently,” she says, “I’ve been working with coordinators in Europe and Arabia, talking about how to create a more global strategy.” Although sand cats are solitary by nature, their future may depend on the collaboration of humans devoted to saving the species.

Discovering that one of the Zoo’s koalas has a new joey in her pouch is always good news, and the koala team was happy to find out that was the case for female koala Beejay in July 2019. The situation took a concerning turn, however, when Beejay was diagnosed with lymphoma. Hoping not to lose them both, the veterinarians and animal care team wanted to give Beejay’s joey every chance, and provided Beejay with expert palliative care to give the joey time to develop.

In the end, however, the little male joey was only five and a half months old when he lost his mother. “We had never raised a koala this young,” said Becky Kier, lead neonate care expert. “In those first few weeks, we almost lost him twice. But during intensive care, he showed us he was a fighter.”

Defying the Odds

At first, the little joey only weighed 5.46 ounces, and he needed round-the-clock care, including feeding every few hours from a bottle with a specially designed nipple to fit his small mouth. The koala team consulted with experts in Australia on techniques to care for a joey this young and implemented their suggestions; but even their Australian colleagues were skeptical about the joey’s chances.

GIVE IT A NIBBLE
Kim Weibel offers Omeo a few tender eucalyptus leaves to smell and taste, to get him acquainted with solid food.

Nonetheless, under the dedicated care of the wildlife care specialists and veterinarian Cora Singleton, DVM, the little koala rallied. He stayed in a warm and humid incubator, containing a suspended faux pouch that he could nestle into, and continued to gain strength. The team was pleased to see that he was growing, and each new encouraging weight and developmental milestone they recorded buoyed their spirits.

Despite the odds, this little fellow was going to make it. In honor of his uphill battle, he was named Omeo, an Australian Aboriginal word meaning “mountains” or “hills,” which also pays tribute to the koalas of Australia’s Blue Mountains that survived the bushfires of 2019-2020 (see end of article).

Stepping Out

At seven months old, Omeo reached the stage in which a koala joey would ordinarily start venturing out of the pouch to explore. To simulate this experience, the team began taking the faux pouch out of the incubator, and placing it next to a plush koala toy sitting in a custom-designed eucalyptus “tree.” When Omeo woke from a nap, he crawled out of the pouch and up onto the back of the toy.

“It is important we mimic as many natural situations for Omeo as he would receive with his mother,” said Kim Weibel, senior neonate care expert. “We groomed him, held him snug in his faux pouch, encouraged him to grasp onto his plush ‘stand-in mom,’ and provided him with eucalyptus, so he could further develop his hand-eye coordination and learn to feed himself.”

By March 2020, at eight months of age, Omeo’s strength, grasping and climbing abilities, and balance were all developing. “Omeo had come a long way,” said Kim. “In the beginning, he was so compromised and so underdeveloped. However, his endurance increased, he started mouthing eucalyptus, and he finally developed nice, thick fur. A next big step will be meeting other koalas, and learning how to socialize—doing all the great things koalas do.”

A Bigger World Awaits

After the snug environment of the incubator, going outside might have seemed a bit daunting. But not for intrepid Omeo—he was up to the challenge. The care team started taking him out for “walks,” bundling him in a carrying wrap, then giving him opportunities to crawl out, climb some branches, get some sun—which is important for vitamin D production to support bone growth in koalas—and even see and smell the adult koalas nearby.

His explorations were somewhat wobbly at first, but that didn’t stop Omeo from trying every new thing that came his way. Additionally, his hand-eye coordination was improving. “He was grabbing leaves and teething on the stems,” said Becky. “His brain was ready for eucalyptus, but his teeth were not, just yet—he was still behind in physical development.”

EXPERT HEALTH CARE
(Left) Getting x-rays of the tiny joey required some creative techniques by Marianne Zeitz, senior registered veterinary technician. (Right) Veterinarian Cora Singleton reviews Omeo’s radiographs to check the health of his organs.

Passing the Test

Because his mother was ill when he was born, and may not have been able to provide him with the complete nutrition he required, it’s likely that Omeo will always be smaller than other koalas. His veterinary checkup in May, at nine months of age, was promising for his overall health, though.

The veterinarians took radiograph images to examine his lungs, heart, and other organs, which showed no signs of abnormalities. They took a blood sample, and the results showed that his levels were within normal parameters. A body condition examination and checks of his eyes, ears, and nose did not reveal concerns. And his teeth were coming along nicely, as well. All indications pointed to a healthy—if small-statured—koala.

Joining the Colony

Omeo’s next milestone will be to meet other koalas. The animal care team will gradually introduce him to the adult females, which all share one large habitat. “We hope that eventually one of the females might ‘adopt’ him,” said Becky. “The goal is that he’ll have a family to hang with so he can learn all about being a koala.” Because the males are territorial, they each have their own space—as Omeo will too, someday. For now, he spends most of his time in the back area, since he still has growing to do. Omeo has overcome so much. Seeing him at home among the eucalyptus branches will be a triumph for everyone who worked with such care and dedication to save his life.

Saving Koalas in Australia

In late 2019 and early 2020, the world watched in dismay as mega-fires raged in Australia, burning more than 2.5 million acres of habitat, and devastating wildlife. One area that was heavily damaged was the Blue Mountains World Heritage Region in New South Wales, which is home to the most genetically diverse population of koalas in the world. “During the massive fires, as 80 percent of the World Heritage area burned, we were at risk of losing the entire koala population at this site,” said Kellie Leigh, Ph.D., executive director of Science for Wildlife. San Diego Zoo Global has partnered with Science for Wildlife in the Blue Mountains Koala Project since 2015, supporting conservation studies of the koala populations in the area.

In the face of such devastating loss, Kellie and her team were able to locate and rescue a number of koalas, which were then cared for at the Taronga Zoo in Sydney until they were able to return to the Blue Mountains in April. “While they coped well in care, we were delighted to finally send our koalas home,” said Kellie. “We assessed the burned area that we rescued them from, to establish when the conditions improved enough that the trees could support them again. We continue to radio-track them and keep a close eye on them.”

To help during the crisis, San Diego Zoo Global raised more than a million dollars from generous donors, members, and supporters, funds that were used to support the rescue and relocation of animals, and provide water stations that gave animals critical access to water in burned areas. The reintroduction of the rescued koalas is just the next stage in what conservationists know will be a long-term effort to recover koala populations in the area. “There is still a lot of work to be done, to assess what is left of koalas in this region and plan for population recovery,” said Jen Tobey, Population Sustainability researcher, San Diego Zoo Global. “We are dedicated to continuing to support this critical work to conserve a significant koala population.”

Last week, it was reported that 98 percent of lemurs are threatened with extinction, making them the most threatened mammal group on Earth. The threat to lemurs at this moment is so great that it is conceivable that some species may go extinct in our lifetimes. But, do not be discouraged—there are hundreds of people dedicating their lives to lemur conservation to make sure this doesn’t happen!

Recently, a group of about 50 lemur researchers and conservationists comprising the Primate Specialist Group of the IUCN/SSC (International Union for Conservation of Nature / Species Survival Commission) met to assign the specific threat categories to every lemur species. These categories are Critically Endangered, Endangered, and Vulnerable; species that do not meet critical criteria are assigned as either Not Threatened or Data Deficient. Each of these categories carries a lot of weight when discussing the probability of a species to thrive, or even simply survive, in the immediate future.

I was impressed with the breadth of international and local Malagasy people included in the process, and the sheer amount and types of data it takes to come to a decision. More specifically, multiple metrics are considered when assessing species that evaluate species’ population size, health, and available habitat, both in the immediate past and projections for how this trend may continue in the immediate future. This reflects not only the thoroughness of the process, but also that of the field researchers and land managers working tirelessly every day to make sure we have up to date information.

For the approximately 107 different lemur species, their unfortunate classification as the most threatened mammal group has been the result of sustained anthropogenic habitat loss over the past few centuries in Madagascar, the island nation where all lemurs are endemic. This deforestation has isolated the dwindling lemur populations, creating an enormous conservation problem for their future. To this point, nearly a third (31 percent) of lemurs assessed were listed as Critically Endangered.

The current coronavirus pandemic has had a detrimental effect on conservation programs around the world. As the local communities surrounding protected areas often rely on tourism for their livelihood, they are now faced with a situation of needing to provide for their families and some may eventually begin turning to illegal timber harvesting and small-scale bushmeat hunting. 

Not everything is so ominous though, and there is certainly hope for the future. Our team from San Diego Zoo Global has been working tirelessly in Madagascar to survey remote forest sites for lemur species, maintain and operate a field research camp which helps to safeguard an incredibly diverse valley of primary forest in the northeast, and train the next generation of local Malagasy conservationists. It is this commitment to conservation from our local partners that should instill hope for improving this otherwise seemingly dire situation.

Tim Eppley is a postdoctoral fellow at the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research. Read his previous blog, Widening the Lens in Madagascar.

Most people probably think of a zoo veterinarian caring for giraffes, lions, and apes—and of course, we do. But sometimes, our patients are not large or furry.

As a zoo vet, one of the things I really like about my job is that there’s always something new, and there’s always something to continue to learn about. This time, my patient was a fish— an approximately 35-year-old koi at the pond in the San Diego Zoo’s Terrace Garden. It wasn’t my first patient with fins. (Yes, fish get sick sometimes, too!) The veterinary school I attended, at the University of Florida, is one of the very few that includes the study of fish medicine (primarily aquaculture fish). Later, I got plenty of experience in caring for fish during my residency, at the Shedd Aquarium and Brookfield Zoo.

I was called in when wildlife care specialists noticed a skin mass on the fish. Our concern was that the mass could become ulcerated and affect deeper tissue, so they carefully transported the fish to the Zoo’s veterinary hospital, where it we have an exam table that’s just for fish, built by one of our registered veterinary technicians. On this table, we can constantly pump water over a fish’s gills—which is the only way it takes in oxygen—but the rest of the fish’s body is out of water, which allows us to use all of our typical tools for exams and surgery. An anesthetic powder is mixed into the water to immobilize and sedate the patient.

Outside of just doing the procedure, there are other challenges when working with a patient that’s a fish. Chiefly, there is a lot of water around—and a lot of our equipment is electrical. For example, for the surgery itself, I used an electrocautery unit to help cut and coagulate blood vessels. Every challenge has a solution. In this case, to use the unit in water, we adjust it for what’s called “bipolar cautery”—the electrical current passes only through the two ends of forceps we’re using, and it goes no further than in the exact area we’re using it.

With a safe environment in place—for the fish and for us—I was able to remove a total of three skin masses from the koi. Some types of cancer or masses grow deep into the skin or muscle, so I was relieved to see that these masses seemed to affect only the scales in the area and not underlying skin. Our pathologists determined the masses to be a type of skin cancer called spindle cell sarcoma, which is not uncommon in fish. Luckily, this cancer typically doesn’t spread to the rest of the body, but masses can get quite large. Now that we have a diagnosis, we know that we need to continue to monitor those sites for any recurrence.

This surgery reminded me that the variety of species we take care of is always challenging—in a good way, because we don’t get into a routine. We continue to develop our skills and our knowledge base, and learn about the individual animals and the species that we work with.

As for the koi, its surgery sites are healed, and it is back at the shady Terrace Lagoon, swimming in the clean, oxygenated water of its 18,500-gallon pond, and eating normally. Some koi have been known to live more than 200 years, and we hope that this recovered patient has a lot of years ahead of it.

Ben Nevitt is a senior veterinarian for San Diego Zoo Global. Discover more about koi in this article.

They are not apex predators for nothing. Tigers—the unmistakable fiery-orange, striped member of the genus Panthera—are the largest species of cat in the world. Depending on the species (those in the northern lattitudes are the biggest), adult males can clear 10 feet in length and 650 pounds; females are smaller, but no less dramatic.

There are six subspecies of tiger whose names reflect their tiny remaining home ranges in Asia, India, and Russia: Sumatran, Siberian, Bengal, South China, Malayan, and Indochinese. Three other tiger subspecies have gone extinct in the 20^th century, most recently the Caspian tiger in the 1950s. With the remaining survivors all listed as Endangered or Critically Endangered, there is good reason to highlight them and raise awareness on Global Tiger Day, July 29. This annual event began in 2010 at the Saint Petersburg Tiger Summit, when it became clear that a global conservation effort was needed to preserve these majestic cats. San Diego Zoo Global is proud to work with tigers in situ and ex situ, and collaborate with other organizations to ensure these big cats get the conservation efforts they deserve. The San Diego Zoo is home to three male Malayan tigers and the Safari Park is home to six Sumatran tigers. Visitors can also tune into the Park’s Tiger Cam any time.

I met up with two senior wildlife care specialists at the Zoo’s outdoor tiger compound recently (while wearing masks and properly social distanced) to get the latest on the cats there. Both Jo Ann Haddad and Aimee Goldcamp spoke of the challenge and importance of providing opportunities for the male tigers, in the prime of their lives, to exercise their natural cat behaviors. Jo Ann described them as “Three hundred-pound, persnickety house cats that can kill you.” Yes, they sleep a great deal, but “They show me new things, which keeps the job from getting boring. They make us ‘up our game’ as caregivers, to best challenge them using tactile and olfactory clues and eliciting their graceful strength,” she added.

All three males—Conner, Cinta, and Berani—are well represented in North American zoos, so while they may be called into the Species Survival Plan to breed in the future, until that time, their welfare at the Zoo is top priority. Aimee explained how tiger care uses “experiences” for the cats. “We provide choices to draw out their natural behaviors, like swimming and climbing and what provokes them to stalk, pounce, or hunker down.” Jo Ann and Aimee even simulate seasonal variations, which for Malayan tigers is “rainy or monsoon seasons”. They create a multi-day experience for the cats tied to the pool cleaning, with it drying up and refilling over time and “rain” from the misters. “It’s a three- to four-day experience of rain and getting soaked,” which the tigers seem to revel in. Another days-long tiger experience entails reinvigorating the tigers’ awareness of their tapir neighbors. Collecting urine, hay bedding, and body grease from the tapir habitat, staff disperses the olfactory “goodies” around the tiger habitat and even add tapir footprints in the sand, applied with a foot model on a stick. The tiger’s interest is piqued. The death of an animal often draws vultures to tidy up, so part of this staff’s efforts includes flying a vulture kite over the habitat to cue the tigers in a natural way to a savory carcass discovery. Alas, a lamb carcass is secured to a raft in their pool, and the tiger gets to stalk, kill, find, and drag the food to a safe spot to devour it. This is a tiger ecology-based way to ensure the cats can live their best life!

Another huge part of animal welfare is staying healthy and thriving. When Connor showed signs of hypertension, wildlife care specialists began working toward collecting blood pressure readings from him with a cuff attached to his tail. While this may seem a farfetched, the cats are already desensitized to getting necessary injections in the tail, hip, and rear end, as well as blood draws from their tail, which veterinary staff use to monitor the animal’s overall health. Jo Ann and Aimee worked with Connor getting him used to the sounds and sensations associated with collecting blood pressure readings and discovered the ideal cuff size. “He was rock solid on foundation behaviors—station, touch, tail—about 90-percent there, then Covid19 hit, and training was sidelined,” said Aimee.

Emergency Recall is another behavioral repertoire that keeps the cats and people safe in case of an unexpected event like a tree falling in the habitat, an earthquake, etc. Wildlife care specialists went to great lengths to find the perfect, unshakeable “reward” for the tigers to literally stop whatever they are doing (or eating) and bolt to the back area. Aimee and Jo Ann explained that after a few fits and starts, they found that a juicy five-pound lamb shank worked nicely, and didn’t take the cats too long to consume. Training occurs about once a month, at different times, using all different scenarios like a person at the fence line or something in the pool to make sure no matter what is going on, the tigers will come inside. And they do! “I’d like to say we’re that good, but it works because tigers are so food motivated,” said Jo Ann. “We just found that one thing that does it for them.” And for many visitors, observing the tigers in action (or even sleeping), does it for them!

Karyl Carmignani is a staff writer for San Diego Zoo Global. Enjoy more of her work in Feet First.

San Diego Zoo Global is uniquely positioned to conserve threatened wildlife both in situ and ex situ. Wildlife at the Zoo and the Safari Park can provide critical clues to the behavior and ecology of their wild counterparts via noninvasive data collection. In honor of Global Tiger Day, July 29, we would like to share how the Sumatran tigers at the Safari Park are helping their wild counterparts in Sumatra.

“It is an exciting time here supporting our important field work, as we are able to collect fecal and blood samples to produce data to assess genetic variation,” explained Justine Zafran, senior wildlife care specialist at the Safari Park, who has worked with the tigers for over six years. These efforts will help lay the groundwork for a cutting-edge project to find an accurate and practical way to count wild tigers in Sumatra. “It might be surprising that we still do not have a counting strategy all scientists and assessors can agree on,” said Mrinalini Erkenswick Watsa, Ph.D., Bud Heller Fellow, San Diego Zoo Global. As part of the Population Sustainability and Conservation Genetics teams, she and her colleagues are employing a combination of motion-detecting cameras as well as revolutionary approaches like genome sequencing technologies to detect individual tigers in Sumatra.

All living things are constantly shedding their DNA into the environment. Tigers slough off traces of their DNA in footprints as they walk, seasonally shed fur, scat deposited regularly, pungent scent marks used to mark their territories, and even on prey they eat and water they drink. Of course, the elements—wind, sun, and rain—quickly degrade these samples. “But if we collect environmental samples soon after deposition, and isolate tiger DNA from them, I believe we can use this information to create a database of wild Sumatran tiger DNA profiles,” Mrinalini said. This would shed light on not only how many tigers there are, but how closely related the population may be. One way that researchers can collect DNA is through “hair snares” where a piece of sticky, scented (many tigers enjoy Obsession by Calvin Klein!) material that attracts tigers to rub on it, leaving hairs behind that can be analyzed and documented in the field. Researchers are looking at ways of modifying this efficient, low-cost mechanism so that the snare closes after a tiger deposit, ensuring the sample is from a single cat.

Before the pandemic, wildlife specialists at the Safari Park, who work with the tigers daily, were able to collect DNA samples non-invasively, and Mrinalini was able to begin fine tuning genomic testing on the Safari Park cats and improve design on data collection sheets. The next phase was to “transfer that knowledge to a practical field application on the island of Sumatra.” But COVID-19 restricted travel to Sumatra, as well as access to the laboratory and even to tigers at the Park. “The project had to adapt to this unique situation,” Mrinalini said. While unable to travel to Sumatra, she will still be able to work directly with the field teams at Sintas Indonesia Foundation, our partner institution in Sumatra, to establish a virtual training session on sample collection, so once their shutdowns are lifted, they will be able to utilize new protocols to conduct field sampling. In April, in an abundance of caution, sample collection was put on hold at the Safari Park.

Wildlife care specialists continued to work, of course, taking great care of the striped felines. Justine explained that with five females and one male, all closely related, things can get testy among them. “We are always cogniscent of the social dynamic of different cats,” said Justine. “Fortunately, we have ‘buffer rooms’ available, and we can also use Rakan, the male, to keep the peace.” Rakan came to the Park from another zoo as a cub, as his mother was unable to nurse him after developing an infection. Meanwhile, a tiny tiger cub had been confiscated at the US-Mexico border and was placed in care of the Safari Park. Close in age, the two “boys” were raised together, and later Moka went to another sanctuary, while Rakan remained at the Safari Park. As part of the Species Survival Program, two of the females at the Park were going to go to other zoos, but the pandemic put a stop to all animal transfers. Fortunately, the tiger habitats have plenty of greenery, private areas, pools, and waterfalls to provide optimal living. In June, new additional biosafety protocols were put in place to keep the cats and staff collecting samples safe, so the tiger genome project can resume.

The last island-wide estimate of Sumatran tiger numbers was conducted 10 years ago, so this conservation genomics project is more urgent than ever, and will add important data to the fore. It will reveal how many tigers there are, how stable the populations are, and the genetic diversity (or lack thereof) of these mighty hunters. These science-based answers will help guide the future for wildlife and humans on this beautiful island and beyond.

Karyl Carmignani is a staff writer for San Diego Zoo Global. Read Tiger, Tiger (Part 1).

Big Baby Hooves

In the Asian field habitat at the Safari Park, our greater one-horned rhino population grew by two. Mother rhinos Asha and Tanaya gave birth to their calves just over two weeks apart, on March 25 and April 11, respectively. Both mom-and-calf pairs enjoyed plenty of private time for bonding in separate housing areas.

HOWDY, NEIGHBOR
Once he got the feel of the habitat, Arjun began checking out the neighbors, like this pair of Indian gaur.

On May 20, 2020, habitat gates were opened, and as animal care specialists carefully observed, the littlest rhinos ventured out with their mothers into a 40-acre habitat. Tanaya and her female calf stepped out first. Together, they made use of a mud wallow, then headed out to explore the rest of the area. Not far behind them, Asha led her male calf, Arjun, farther onto the savanna, exploring the grassy hills. With curiosity fueling a bit of boldness, he ventured several feet away from Asha. But when he came face to face with one of his new neighbors, a Javan bantang, he quickly returned to his mother’s side.

A Tower of Joy

A group of giraffes is whimsically referred to as a tower—and the tower at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park got “taller” this spring with the addition of two calves. The first calf was born on April 4 to first-time mom Zawadi. After a two-week bonding period, the young female stepped out with her mother to meet the other members of the herd, as well as the other wildlife in the East Africa habitat. While the little female explored her world, more than 18,000 human fans cast ballots in an online voting campaign to choose a name for her. On Mother’s Day, by popular vote, Zawadi’s daughter was named Zahara.

HERD LIFE
Zahara has many pairs of eyes looking out for her, but no one is as intent on her well-being as her mother, Zawadi.

Zahara is healthy, with terrific vitality and a highly relaxed demeanor. “This calf is so very calm and collected,” said Matt Galvin, lead wildlife care specialist at the Safari Park. “Not much bothers her. She is usually content to nap in the shade while the adults browse nearby. But we have also noticed that, on occasion, she does get overly excited and zooms through the savanna.” In mid-June, Zahara’s herd welcomed another giraffe calf, a male. Be sure to look for these two lanky youngsters on Giraffe Cam, and watch them grow!

A Little Bit of Excitement

On April 28, 2020, the staff of our Carnivore Breeding Center near the Safari Park watched in wonder as Arwen, a black-footed cat, gave birth. “She started showing signs of labor around noon,” said Dion Rice, senior wildlife care specialist. “The first kitten, a male, was born about an hour after that—and after another hour, Arwen delivered a little female.” Cameras in the den and the yard give the staff a chance to marvel at Arwen’s mothering skills.

DOUBLE DELIGHT
Watching the black-footed kittens develop their cat-skills is fascinating, and helps add to the knowledge base about the species.

At about four weeks of age, the kittens started exploring outside of the den. They climb, but haven’t reached all the high spots—yet. According to Dion, “Arwen watches them carefully; if one gets too high, in her estimation, she makes the kitten come down.” Dion added that the Park is one of a few facilities to have welcomed kittens this year, and that “There is little information on the growth and development rate of the young.” Our ability to observe and track that development helps build an understanding of this small, secretive wild cat.

The Marvelous, Mysterious Puggle

In San Diego Zoo Global’s 103-plus-year history, we’ve welcomed many animal offspring, but one that appeared last February was new to us—an echidna baby, known as a puggle! Echidnas are egg-laying mammals from Australia and New Guinea. The puggle’s parents live in the Safari Park’s Walkabout Australia habitats.

THE TIP OF THE SPIKE-BERG
Smooth-skinned at birth, puggles grow dense fur that keeps them warm, then begin sprouting the paler, sharp spines (right). At adulthood (left), the spines become more prominent and the fur serves as an undercoat.

Female echidnas lay a grape-sized egg, then hold it in an abdominal pouch. After hatching, the vulnerable baby remains in mom’s pouch for a couple of months. Our female (named Orange) and male (named Shaw) had been introduced as part of a breeding project for the last two seasons, and although Orange had appeared to have gone through an incubation period, not emerging for a couple of weeks, it wasn’t until later that the existence of the puggle was confirmed. The puggle was discovered, with great excitement, in Orange’s pouch during a veterinary examination! “It is an honor to care for these animals, and especially to learn more about this species’ reproduction through this puggle hatching,” said Savanna Smith, wildlife care specialist at the Park. Over the past months, the Walkabout Australia team has watched, documented, and marveled at the puggle’s progress.

The little one began developing the spiky spines adults have, at around six to eight weeks of age. At this point, Orange placed the puggle in a nursery burrow and left it on its own, returning to nurse her baby every three to six days, as has been seen with other echidna moms. Eventually, with protective points covering its back, the puggle start venturing out, too. Savanna and her team watched this puggle expand its horizons in late June—a little wobbly, but getting stronger every day!

Foal in the Field

On May 22, the Safari Park gained some stripes—as in zebra stripes. Knowing that Leia, a six-year-old Grevy’s zebra, was expecting her first foal, the staff made her comfortable in a maternity area where she and the herd could see, hear, and smell one another, but she would have a quiet place to give birth. When staff arrived at sunup, Leia was grooming and nursing her foal. “Ideally, we do an up-close health assessment within the first 24 to 48 hours,” said Tommy Jordan, a wildlife care supervisor at the Safari Park. “But we also want the mare and foal to bond, so we try to wait.” When the team was able to first weigh her on June 5, Leia’s daughter weighed 128 pounds (Grevy’s zebra foals typically weigh between 80 to 120 pounds at birth). The as-yet-unnamed foal has joined the rest of the herd, and is quickly learning what being a zebra is all about—you might say she’s learning her lines.

Meanwhile, at the Zoo…

The month of April brought the squeaks and mews of Amur leopard cubs to the San Diego Zoo. This was mom Satka’s second litter, and she was “rocking” it! “While she’s still very protective, her first-time mom jitters have subsided—but she’s still very much alert,” said Kelly Murphy, senior wildife care specialist. As the result of a poll of the Zoo’s Facebook fans, the cubs have been named Lev (meaning “lion”) and Tuman (meaning “fog”).

Livestreaming cameras throughout the living spaces give staff a way to monitor Satka and her cubs. Kelly shared that as the cubs have become more mobile, Satka has had her paws full. “We review footage every day, and I catch myself laughing out loud watching her with the cubs,” she said. “She’ll be in one room, and a cub takes off toward the door. Satka gets up to bring it back. And as she’s dealing with that cub, the other cub has wandered halfway out.” Kelly noted that “Overall, Satka’s allowing them the opportunity to explore, but being protective—it’s a good balance.”

SPOT ON!
Satka’s two cubs are growing, active youngsters that thrive under her excellent mothering skills.

Amur leopards are the rarest of the big cat species on the planet. This species was once found in northeastern China, Russia, and the Korean peninsula, but those populations have been decimated, due to loss of habitat and poaching for their thick, spotted coats. We are proud to join with other organizations to conserve this species by taking part in the Global Species Management Program—an international conservation effort in which scientists work to increase regional animal populations. Guests can see Satka and her cubs in the Conrad Prebys Africa Rocks area at the Zoo. (While these endangered cats are from Asia, in our Zoo population, they represent leopards from ecosystems in Africa and the Middle East.)

Growing Up Lemur

In a different part of Africa Rocks, two ring-tailed lemurs born in late February have continued to grow and thrive. “They know how to groom themselves and others,” said Yeleny Smith, a senior wildlife care specialist. “Each twin has an ‘auntie’ they go to for allogrooming. The little male, Tsiky, tends to allogroom with favorite female troop member, Taz. His sister, Meva, usually pairs up with Shabazz.”

As with most youngsters, play is the young lemurs’ prime activity. They explore different trees in the habitat, and they are figuring out how to sunbathe by mimicking the adults. Whether it’s bouncing around the exhibit or eating leaves from the trees, these two have confidence in themselves to explore on their own—and that their troop will help them when needed. That’s the best way to grow!

A NOTABLE HATCH
Animal care specialists at the Zoo’s off-exhibit Avian Propagation Center were thrilled this spring when a pair of pompadour cotingas hatched and raised a chick. It was a first for the species at the Zoo, and we’re all looking forward to seeing the little one (left) achieve its stunning adult color (right).

Nothing struts its stuff like a peacock. The male’s dramatic display, raising and shimmying an iridescent, feathery fan of upper tail coverts for females, (or for anyone else strolling by) is a real showstopper. Distinctive Indian peafowl Pavo crisatus—with males referred to as peacocks and females called peahens—first came to the San Diego Zoo in 1924, and it didn’t take long for them to become a favorite among Zoo guests. The current flock of 11 free-roaming birds (6 males and 5 females) make their presence known wherever they go, and they just might be the most photographed species at the Zoo.

“People are just amazed when they see peacocks up close, and I can understand why,” said Dave Rimlinger, head of the Bird department at the San Diego Zoo. “You can’t help but marvel at their beauty.” Both males and females have distinctive fan-shaped crests, somewhat resembling tufts of fuzz on sticks. While Indian peafowl females have brown feathers and just a hint of color on their necks, the males are dazzling, with deep blue and green coloration.

LONG TRAIN
While most people are familiar with the image of a peacock in full display (as at top), that’s not their usual look. More often, their colorful covert feathers are relaxed, draping down from the peacock’s back like the train of a wedding gown.

A train of long feathers—the peacock’s tail coverts—cover shorter, stiffer feathers at the base of the tail that are used to raise the coverts when it’s time for the peacock to “make a statement.” Most of the time, the colorful coverts drape from the peacock’s back to the ground, like the train of formal gown. But when a male raises his train to court a peahen or show dominance to another peacock, that showy, fan-shaped display of long feathers—studded with eye-shaped spots, called ocelli—can be up to seven feet wide.

If, for some reason, a peacock doesn’t catch your eye, he will make his presence known in other ways. “You’ll definitely hear them,” Dave said. Peacocks are known for loud, raucous calls that carry for long distances. They sound off early in the day, late in the evening, and nearly all day long when breeding season rolls around.

They’re Back

The loud, proud, and colorful peafowl flock has returned to the Zoo, after a two-year hiatus. They had been moved to an off-view area to keep them safe after a case of virulent Newcastle disease (VND) was discovered in Southern California in 2018. This contagious disease can affect both domestic poultry and wild birds in the order Galliformes (including peafowl and pheasants), and it can be spread from one area to another on people’s shoes, if they have been in an area where infected birds live—including backyards with chickens. Fortunately, new cases have not occurred for several months, and the VND quarantine was lifted in June of this year, allowing peafowl to once again roam freely throughout the Zoo.

They may be better known for their strutting, but peafowl can fly, and they are among the largest birds that can do so. But they rarely fly long distances—mostly just from the ground to a high tree branch at night and back to the ground again in the morning. While the Zoo’s peafowl wander throughout the Zoo during the day and roost in the trees at night, instances of them venturing off Zoo grounds are extremely rare. While the Zoo occasionally gets a call reporting a peacock on the loose, the bird in question usually turns out to be a non-Zoo bird from a San Diego County backyard or farm, Dave said.

LIVING COLOR
When a peacock raises its feathery fan of upper tail coverts to impress a female or show dominance to another male, that colorful fan-shaped display can be up to seven feet wide.

Peafowl are omnivores, foraging on the ground throughout the day and eating what they find, including fruit, vegetation, grain, insects, and small reptiles or mammals. At the Zoo, peafowl are fed a commercial pheasant pellet, chopped greens, and mealworms, in addition to food they find on their own.

“Our wildlife care specialists know the territories of these guys, and where they hang out,” Dave said. At the Zoo, as in their native range, each male stakes out a small, exclusive territory of his own and chases other males out. However, those small territories within the Zoo are very near each other, allowing each male to hear the other peacocks, and they all know exactly where those other males are.

“One interesting thing about peafowl is how territorial the males are,” Dave said. “If you visit the Zoo often, you might see a peacock in the same general area—such as near the flamingos—again and again. That’s his territory, and he defends it.” He may display to show dominance over any other approaching peacock, and he may behave aggressively toward that “invader.”

PEAHENS, PEACOCKS, AND PEACHICKS
Many people refer to all Indian peafowl as “peacocks,” but that word really only describes the male of the species (right). The female (left) is a “peahen” and young peafowl are called “peachicks.”

Life in an Exploded Lek

Peafowl are lek species, in which the males try to outdo each other with impressive courtship displays to attract a female during mating season. In a typical lek, males gather together in a group, with each one trying to interest a female with his own elaborate display. Peacocks, however, display in what is called an “exploded lek,” where the males are not next to each other but are within earshot of each other; they know the other males are nearby and are also displaying for females.

While the purpose of their display efforts is to win over a peahen that enters their territory, they will continue to display even when no females are around. And peacocks aren’t shy about raising their train and quivering their feathers in close proximity to Zoo guests. “It’s very impressive when they display; they are really intent on showing off for the females, and they are not too worried about anybody else watching,” Dave said.

MUTED TONES
Although male Indian peafowl have distinctive bright blue and green coloration, females have mostly brown plumage, which helps them blend in with their surroundings when they are nesting and raising chicks.

As in other lek species, peafowl are polygamous. A male may mate with several females in a season. After mating, the female lays three to eight eggs in a ground nest, incubates the eggs, and raises the chicks.

At the Zoo, females and males are sometimes kept apart during breeding season, in order to maintain a healthy on-grounds population of 10 to 12 birds. “Every few years, females raise chicks on grounds,” Dave said. “But if every female bred, we would triple the population in one year.”

Peacocks and peahens at the Zoo are once again offering guests a lot to see—and hear. “Peacocks are very much a part of the San Diego Zoo experience,” Dave said. “It’s great to have them back.”

EYE-CATCHING PLUMAGE
The peacock’s long coverts—the feathers covering its tail—are studded with colorful, eye-shaped spots called ocelli. When those coverts are raised in a courtship or dominance display, the “eyes” are everywhere, making the peacock all but impossible to ignore.

Stable and Endangered

Indian peafowl live in forest, grassland, and scrubland habitats throughout their native range, which includes India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Bhutan, Nepal, and Sri Lanka. It is the national bird of India—and in some parts of its native range, the species is considered sacred. Because of their beauty, Indian peafowl have been sought after for centuries—and as a result, they have been brought to many other nations. Introduced populations exist worldwide, including in the US, Australia, New Zealand, and the Bahamas.

While Indian peafowl populations are considered stable, with more than 100,000 of them living worldwide, a second peafowl species—green peafowl Pavo muticus—is listed as Endangered on the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species. Native to China, Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, and Malaysia, green peafowl are currently threatened by habitat loss and deterioration, hunting and egg collection by humans, capture for the pet trade, and conflict with farmers.

Fewer than 20,000 mature green peafowl are believed to exist today in their native habitats, “but there have been some discussions about releasing this species into the wild,” Dave said. In addition, this species is now protected by law in China, and public awareness campaigns have been launched to prevent poisonings in agricultural areas.

Lanky and lean, the mysterious, misnamed, and misunderstood wild dog of South America is a sight to behold. Though it resembles a red fox on stilts, it is not closely related to the vulpine family. Despite its common name, it is not closely affiliated with wolves, either. But it does sport a dramatic, dark-colored mane down its back that flares up when the animal feels threatened.

Meet the big-eared, red-haired, long-legged maned wolf. This species is aloof for a canid, and it is far less vocal than other wild dogs.

“These animals are the opposite of what people think they know,” said San Diego Zoo lead wildlife care specialist Tammy Batson. Once guests lay eyes on these elegant-looking creatures, they really “give people a reason to care.”

Who Are You?

Its blazing long fur, solitary lifestyle, and omnivorous diet thrust the maned wolf into a genus all its own: Chrysocyon. Native to Argentina, Paraguay, Bolivia, and Peru, the maned wolf inhabits grasslands and scrub forest. It is thought that its exceedingly long legs allow the animal to see above the tall grass while hunting and running.

Unlike true wolves, maned wolves tend toward a solitary lifestyle, but do form monogamous pair bonds. Though a pair shares a large, permanent home range (up to 17 square miles) they hunt independently and only come together for breeding. However, male maned wolves in zoos provide regurgitated food for the young, which indicates that they may stick around to help raise their offspring in the wild, as well.

NEITHER FOX NOR WOLF
Like red foxes, maned wolves have thick reddish fur, large and perky ears, and black legs. But the much larger maned wolf’s long legs and lanky body give this canid, native to South America, a look all its own.

Yet another quirk to the maned wolf lifestyle is its diet. Though classified as a carnivore, it is a true omnivore (minus the dilemma). During the rainy season, it eats mainly lobeira, a tomato-like fruit from a low, spiny bush—in fact, the fruit is also called the “wolf apple” for this reason. Studies of maned wolf feces have indicated that just over three-quarters of its diet is made up of fruit and vegetable matter. The other portion of its diet consists of small mammals, reptiles, birds and their eggs, and insects. With so much of its diet “vegetarian,” a special Mazuri Maned Wolf Diet was created for animals in zoos, which contains less animal-based protein (and reduced sodium) and more plant-based protein to help control cystinuria levels in the animals, which could otherwise lead to kidney stones, an often-fatal condition.

Rather than chasing down prey, maned wolves tend to stalk and pounce, their large, erect ears ever alert to the telltale sounds of their next meal. They are most active at night during dusk and dawn hours, spending the daylight hours dozing under the cover of thick brush.

THE MANE THING
Maned wolves get their name from the mane of dark hair on their back that stands on end when they feel threatened.

Hear That?

Maned wolves have a somewhat abbreviated vocal repertoire, compared to other wild dogs. They don’t howl or bay, but use use three other sounds: a deep-throated single bark, usually heard at dusk; a high-pitched whine, sometimes used in greeting; and a growl during antagonistic behavior. Most of their communication is done through olfactory means. Their pungent urine serves as a “keep out” signpost. Other maned wolves can smell it a mile away, and discern a great deal from an individual’s “perfume.” Is the animal healthy? Ready to breed? Protecting its territory? This canid’s long, slender muzzle can read the fine print of those scent marks!

Positive Reinforcement Training

At the Zoo, maned wolves share a spacious, outdoor habitat in the Northern Frontier area, and also have off-view indoor dens. They have access to fresh water and dry kibble at all times, and their special “high-value” treat is mice, which is used as a reward during their short training sessions. These animals are somewhat shy and do not view humans as food, which allows wildlife care specialists to work with them inside their habitat. Since most animals will mask any illness they may have to avoid appearing weak, it is important for the wildlife care team to be able to monitor each animal’s weight as a health marker. “We use operant conditioning and positive reinforcement techniques to get the animals to make good decisions with us,” explained Tammy. “If we can train them to get on a scale or provide urine samples, it reduces stress on the animals and the staff.”

When wildlife talks are scheduled at the Zoo, guests can watch wildlife care specialists work with each maned wolf, practicing target training, which is a useful baseline behavior. Each has its own six-inch plastic target (red or blue), with a snap hook that the wildlife care specialist uses to attach to the fence at different places and heights. The wildlife care specialist has a container of the day’s allotment of 15 mice for each animal. The maned wolf is focused, sensing the rewards to come. The wildlife care specialist gestures toward the target, which is paired with the verbal command “target,” and the maned wolf touches the target with its nose. The wildlife care specialist uses a clicker to bridge the correct behavior, so the maned wolf knows exactly what it has done right. “We don’t touch these guys,” said Tammy. “It’s important to respect their boundaries. The only time they touch [each other] is to fight or breed, and I don’t want either of those things.” The keepers use intermittent reinforcement for the training session, so after a few correct “target” behaviors, a mouse is given and gobbled down instantly. “This is also a great way to make sure the less-dominant animal is getting a fair share.”

The Outlook

Despite their beauty and retiring nature, maned wolves face a number of threats across their range—including hunting, superstition, and habitat loss as humans convert wild spaces to agriculture. Some rural people attach mystical qualities to various body parts of the maned wolf (including their eyes, skin, and tail), which are used as talismans or for folk remedies. Others persecute the wild dogs for taking chickens. Currently, maned wolves are listed as Near Threatened on the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species. It is hoped that zoos around the world can help protect this regal species in its native habitat while also breeding them in captivity, which has proved challenging. We need to work together to give this wild dog a leg up on its long-term survival.

Imagine: You need to feed one lion, two elephants, three sloths, four iguanas, five hummingbirds, AND an anteater. Do you go to your local pet store? Grocer? Use a delivery app on your phone? How and what do you feed so many different kinds of animals? Zoo nutritionists ask and answer this question on a daily basis.

At the San Diego Zoo and San Diego Zoo Safari Park, the Nutritional Services Department is a team of nutritionists, researchers, and Forage Warehouse staff that work together to meet the nutritional needs of our animal population. Nutritionists and scientists work collaboratively to streamline diets, taking into account each species’ natural history—what and how they would eat in the wild.

From providing a baseline or “maintenance” diet, to creating prescription diets for medical cases, to designing milk formulas for hand-reared infant animals, Nutritional Services encompasses breadth of challenges. Animal care starts and ends with nutrition. How the ‘meals’ are sent out is a bit different between the Safari Park and Zoo.

At the Safari Park, the Forage Warehouse functions as a central commissary, where each individual animal’s diet is prepared. Starting at 6 a.m. daily, several different stations prepare the bulk ingredients (including fresh produce, live insects, grains and hays, ground and thawed meat products, manufactured feeds, etc.) that go into each specific diet. The Animal Care Specialists pick up the meals and deliver them to the animals.

On the other hand, the Zoo’s Forage Warehouse functions as more of a “decentralized commissary”—a  bulk preparation and delivery center. The Zoo Forage Team’s day starts at 4:30 a.m. They deliver the previous day’s orders and bulk-prepped food to the different habitat kitchens. Zoo Animal Care Specialists break down the whole ingredients into individual diets. Back at the Warehouse kitchen, the next couple of days’ whole ingredients are sorted into delivery bins. Zoo animals need food safety just as much as humans —that’s why the kitchen rotates between produce and meat days, prepping ingredients for the following two days (gotta stay on top of all that food for all those animals!). After prepping delivery bins, Forage staff address any phone-in orders care specialists have requested for the next day. Cleaning and sanitizing the kitchen is the last step before Forage team wraps up for the day.

Both Forage Warehouse teams are responsible for quality control checks. Staff verifies food deliveries are stored and transported at the appropriate temperature to maintain food safety, and reject any incoming orders that do not meet these standards. They check each incoming shipment of items to ensure our animals are receiving quality and safe food.

So, how and what DO you feed one lion, two elephants, three sloths, four iguanas, five hummingbirds, AND an anteater? You’d think it would simply be meat, hay, fruit, veggies, nectar, and insects (respectively). But, just like we need a balanced diet, so too do these animals. That’s why we work together to determine, find, and feed the best possible diets to our animal population. It takes a little bit of everything—and a little bit from everyone—to deliver a balanced diet to keep these animals happy, healthy, vibrant, and thriving!

Mieko Temple and Jordyn Ellorin wrote this story while Research Fellows in the San Diego Zoo Nutritional Services Department.

Vultures are well-known for their scavenging lifestyle. They are “obligate scavengers,” which means that carrion is their primary food source. Almost all predators will scavenge, if necessary, but vultures are the ONLY vertebrates that scavenge for every meal.

Scavenging is a very efficient and safe way to find food. Scavengers never have to catch their prey, reducing risk of injury during the chase. Predators can often be injured by their prey; a scavenger’s food is not trying to fight back. Some predators lose their prey to competitors, resulting in a large expenditure of energy with no reward (for example, lions stealing a cheetah’s kill). The main hazard while scavenging is dealing with food that may be…past its prime.

 As a carcass begins to decompose, bacteria excrete toxic chemicals that begin to break down tissues. As time passes, and these chemicals accumulate, the meat becomes less safe for most scavengers to eat, but not vultures. In cases when the skin is too thick for the vultures’ beaks or there is no bodily opening or wound site from which to start eating, vultures rely on this bacterial action to make the skin easier to break into.

The main reason vultures do not get sick from eating rotten, bacteria-infested meat is due to their digestive system. Vultures have the strongest digestive acid in the Animal Kingdom. Acidity is measured by the pH scale; a pH of 0 is the most acidic, 14 is the most alkaline. The digestive acid in a human stomach measures about 2 on the pH scale, which is fairly acidic; we can digest the majority of pathogens that we consume— but not all. A vulture’s gizzard (or bird stomach) has a pH of slightly above 0, which is as strong as battery acid! Deadly pathogens such as anthrax, tuberculosis, rabies, leprosy, salmonella, campylobacter, cholera, brucellosis, botulism, and more can be dissolved in a vulture’s gizzard. This benefits other animal species by limiting disease transmission at a carcass.

Additionally, vultures have developed a tolerance to some of the bacteria that are not destroyed by the acidity of their gizzard. Some species that would kill other animals, such as poisonous clostridia or flesh-destroying fusobacteria, survive quite comfortably in the vulture large intestine. These organisms not only do not harm the birds, but they actually provide aid with digestion by breaking down nutrients, making the vultures’ digestive system more efficient.

What vultures do might not be pretty, but there is no denying that they are very good at it. They have evolved almost perfectly to fulfill a particular niche in their ecosystems. Nearly 70 percent of the world’s carrion (and the diseases accompanying it) is eliminated by vultures. It’s a dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it!

Ron Webb is a senior avian care specialist at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Read his previous story, San Diego’s Long History with Vultures.

Those who frequent beaches know that with the gorgeous view comes washed-up kelp and insects that skitter across the sand as you approach. While it’s normal to simply call them flies and move on (as I’ve been guilty of doing), sometimes getting a closer look is unexpectedly rewarding.

Tiger beetles (subfamily Cicindelinae) are easily overlooked due to their small size and flighty nature, but they are some of the most interesting beetles out there. Considered one of the fastest insects on Earth, they typically have enlarged eyes, long legs, and oversized mandibles. These critters are voracious predators, and their unique body structure aids in prey capture. For many Cicindelinae, their most notable feature is their bright coloration and complex patterns, complete with rainbow iridescence. While most are tropical, many can be found across North America in sand dune habitats and around bodies of water.

The first tiger beetle I had the pleasure of meeting was while working with the Recovery Ecology team at the San Diego Zoo Global Institute for Conservation Research, studying California Least Terns (CLTE) and Western Snowy Plovers (WSPL). While surveying for nests, a movement caught my eye and I looked down to find a strange little beetle scurrying across the mud. I set out with my camera, and after no small effort (i.e. army-crawling across the sand to avoid spooking the lightning-quick beetle), I finally got a photo. From there, I reached out to some tiger beetle experts for identification, and was shocked to learn that this particular species, Cicindela latesignata (Western Beach Tiger Beetle), is considered one of the rarest tiger beetles in the country.

C. latesignata ranges along the west coast from Los Angeles County to Baja California, Mexico. The species is broken into three subspecies: C. l. latesignata, C.l. obliviosa, and C. l. parkeri, each inhabiting different areas of the species’ range. Unfortunately, Brian Chambers and his colleagues have found that human activities and subsequent habitat degradation have caused the tiger beetle population to decline drastically, even causing local extinction in some areas¹. Not only can urbanization threaten coastal habitats in general, recreational activities can destroy larval burrows and make beaches unsuitable for their survival.

While C. latesignata is considered “critically imperiled” by The Nature Conservancy, it isn’t officially listed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Even so, it gains adventitious protection thanks to management efforts geared towards other species. Some of the remaining tiger beetle habitat is found where CLTE and WSPL nest. Fenced areas of designated CLTE habitat have been found to act as a sanctuary for C. latesignata to avoid nearby pedestrian-heavy areas¹. In addition, the last population of C. l. obliviosa may exist solely on military lands, where government restrictions allow the beaches to remain more protected and nearly pristine.

As an indicator species, tiger beetles can reveal much about habitat quality and biodiversity. Listening to what C. latesignata populations are telling us about Southern California beach and dune habitats may help us restore these areas to their historic glory.

Elena Oey is a Research Assistant with the San Diego Zoo Global Terns and Plovers team .

On the morning of April 8, 2020 we made an exciting discovery: a new egg in our Egyptian vulture nest! Not only was this exciting because Egyptian vultures are an endangered species, but this was also a first for San Diego Zoo Global and the culmination of over a decade of work by our wildlife care specialists.

This story begins in 2008, when a pair of Egyptian vultures came to us from a rehabilitation facility in Zimbabwe. These two vultures had been illegally taken from the wild and were too habituated to human contact to be re-released. At that time, there were not many Egyptian vultures in the United States, and no reproducing pairs. By bringing this pair to the Safari Park, we could give them the opportunity to thrive and, hopefully, have offspring of their own.

The male Egyptian vulture was very friendly toward the wildlife care specialists who took care of him, which can be a lot of fun for us, but usually doesn’t translate into behavioral reproductive success. The pair lived together at the Safari Park for ten years, but we never saw any encouraging interactions between them.

But, fortunately for our female vulture, a new gentleman was coming to town!

In 2019, we had the chance to bring one of the last available males in the country to San Diego to pair with our female. He was an educational ambassador bird from the World Bird Sanctuary in Missouri. We moved the pair to a private habitat at the Safari Park, in an area called the Bird Breeding Center—where we care for some of our most sensitive and endangered bird species.

In the wild, Egyptian vultures nest in large trees, on the tops of buildings, or on cliff ledges, so we needed to provide our pair with the proper location and materials they would need to build their nest. We built a structure high off the ground for them to use—their own “cliff ledge” made of plywood.

This type of vulture makes a nest of loose sticks, and then lines it with hair or wool from other animals. Thanks to recent haircuts for two of our dromedary camels, Eli and Mouse, we were able to provide our new vulture pair with camel hair. We were very excited to see them build a nest of small sticks, grass, rabbit fur, and camel hair.

Which brings us to that exciting morning in April! After all it took to get that egg into the nest, we weren’t going to take any chances. We moved the egg to an artificial incubator and replaced it with a fake egg that the vultures could practice sitting on. Unfortunately, when we checked it, the real egg was infertile—but that’s not uncommon for a bird’s first egg. This was a great start for this pair and we look forward (fingers crossed!) to chicks in their future.

In the meantime, if you want to see an Egyptian vulture for yourself, come and visit the San Diego Zoo Safari Park! You can visit our friendly (if un-reproductive) male in his habitat in the African Woods area of the Park, where he seems to enjoy basking in the admiration of our guests.

Cameron Switzer is a senior animal care specialist at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Read his previous blog, Lessons Learned from the Asian Vulture Crisis.

Under a full moon, just after the Zoo closed for the evening on February 8, 2020, female river hippo Funani gave birth to her most recent calf at the San Diego Zoo. Since then, this fast-growing baby girl has proven to be both precious and precocious.

The calf, now four month old, was named Amahle (pronounced ah-MA-shleh), a Zulu word meaning “beautiful one.” Funani’s daughter is not only beautiful, she is also adventurous, smart, and testing her boundaries every day. “Amahle is more advanced than any other calf I’ve ever dealt with,” said Jen Chapman, senior wildlife care specialist at the Zoo. “This calf has been strong and independent from her first breath. I think Funani realizes she’s got a ‘wild child’ on her hands.”

MOM’S ALWAYS WATCHING
Funani is an experienced mom who knows how to keep her daughter out of trouble, using “teachable moments” to help Amahle learn the skills she needs to grow up strong and independent.

Perhaps all that self-confidence is understandable, given her celebrity status. Amahle appeared on national television—live from the Zoo—when she was less than a month old; her name was chosen by thousands of fans in an online vote held in conjunction with “Good Morning America”; and she’s made frequent appearances on social media—including a Facebook Live streaming event. However, Amahle has an experienced mom who knows how to keep her in line, keep her safe, and teach her what it takes to be a river hippo. “As a mom, Funani is a superstar,” Jen said. “She’s amazing. She takes every opportunity possible and makes it a teachable moment.”

Spirited from the Start

Soon after Amahle was born, her independent nature became evident. “At first, it was like Amahle didn’t have any idea that she was supposed to listen to Funani,” Jen recalled. “She was jumping around—rambunctious, wily, and precocious—and getting into the weirdest spots, just out of reach.” But Funani was calm, acting appropriately, and already establishing communication, Jen said. Funani was getting Amahle to move out of those spots and come back to her. She stayed with her calf, vocalizing and nudging her.

“Then I saw Funani and her calf finally bonding and communicating,” Jen said. “Funani was able to get Amahle to come to her again and again—and, one step at a time, Amahle gradually learned what to do. That’s important, because the pool is one area we can’t baby proof. That first night, there was a lot of stress. But it was amazing to see how quickly that bond was forming.”

Each Day Brings More to Learn

Funani is always watching Amahle, and is ready to help out if she needs it. But mom gives the calf plenty of space to explore on her own, Jen said. In the pool, that may mean keeping track of how long Amahle has been underwater, then coming up underneath to push Amahle to the surface when it’s time to take a breath. “As a one-and-a-half-month-old, Amahle was already holding her breath underwater for more than a minute,” Jen said.

By two months of age, 150-pound Amahle was not only nursing but also eating “gruel,” or pre-chewed food from her mother’s mouth, and was starting to mouth solid food. Most of her nutrition was still coming from nursing, but Amahle had discovered a fondness for greens and beet pulp.

Amahle has been an eager participant in training with wildlife care specialists, to allow her to participate in her own wellness care. “She knows how to open [her mouth] for us, and she allows us to do gum massages,” Jen said. “She’s teething now, and we’re seeing perfect tooth growth.” Amahle also knows how to target, or come to a specific requested location, Jen said. “On a normal morning with two training sessions, I asked Funani to target, in line with the target buoy on a stick. Funani targeted—then I heard her make her little grunts, and Amahle came over and touched the target.” The mother and daughter training sessions, mostly focusing on Funani and her behaviors, started out short but are gradually getting longer. “Amahle has these great little bursts of energy, then takes naps,” Jen said.

Dad’s Around the Corner

When Funani was getting ready to go into labor, she signaled that she was ready to separate from her mate, male hippo Otis—letting him know to keep his distance. Currently, Funani and Amahle are in the main outdoor habitat on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and weekends, while Otis has the outdoor habitat to himself on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

“Otis is our unsung hero: he was kind of pushed aside when Amahle was born, but he’s enjoying his ‘bachelor time’ right now,” Jen said. “When he’s with Funani, she’s dominant and only lets him have access to certain parts of the habitat. Now he’s on his own and is free to enjoy places he wouldn’t ordinarily be allowed in.”

All three hippos interact in the indoor area, with protected contact to ensure everyone’s safety. “Funani will walk the calf over to him for social time,” Jen said. “Funani and Otis can touch on top of the doors—I call it playing kissy face, because they put their chins on top and snort back and forth. And regardless of where they are throughout the day, they vocalize and communicate with each other.”

What’s Ahead?

Many developmental milestones lie ahead for Amahle. By the time she is six months old, she may weigh as much as 800 pounds. One cup of hippo’s milk provides about 550 calories, making it extremely nutritious. By one year of age, Amahle will be grazing on grass, eating more solid food, and nursing less often. While hippos in their native habitats nurse until they are nine months to a year old, “Here, it is a different story,” Jen said. “Our hippos don’t have to compete for food, so mom is not pushing them away, and they get to be a ‘baby’ a little longer.”

Other major achievements still on the horizon include getting to the deepest part of the pool, and reaching the far side without a rock to push up on, Jen said. “We’re not to that point yet.” Her low-frequency vocalizations will also become more audible, and all her teeth will come in. “She will be getting even more independent, and Funani will give her more space,” Jen added. “We’re already seeing some space between them—but the big milestone will be when Funani will remain in the pool when the calf is on the beach. Now, Funani will let her play in shallow water, but she is there watching to make sure Amahle doesn’t get out of her comfort zone.”

Hippos Still Face Threats

Hippos are listed as Vulnerable on the International Union for Conservation of Nature Red List of Threatened Species. In their native habitats in sub-Saharan Africa, they face threats from habitat loss, conflict with humans, and illegal hunting for bushmeat or the ivory in their canine teeth. “People often don’t realize how big a threat ivory trafficking is for hippos,” Jen said. “Even though it’s illegal, it’s still happening. A big ivory bust at a San Diego jewelry store in 2019 was right in our own backyard, not in another country. Hippos, like elephants, are still threatened.”