Review: Animals Behaving Badly

While waiting for  my Honda's 120,000 mile servicing, I read Linda Lombardi's Animals Behaving Badly. It's a quick, fun read--humor more than natural history--by a zoo keeper. It's a catalog of examples of animals behaving contrary to the stereotypes people hold about them--behaving very badly indeed. The incidents are pretty funny as well as eye-opening, but perhaps not for the "bunny huggers" who need the illusion that animals are sweet and kind.

She cited a kea parrot in New Zealand who stole a Scottish man's passport, which took a lot of time and money to replace. He is quoted as saying: "My passport is somewhere out there in Fiordland. The kea's probably using it for fraudulent claims or something."

She busts a lot of myths, such as "mated for life," documenting massive infidelity in the bird world, as well as routine infanticide, dolphin rapists, and skilled liars. Some animals love alcohol, others like hallucinogens, some go for narcotics. Unprovoked attacks, theft, bullying--she shows that the natural world is hardly Eden.

Come for the laughs more than the science, but she's got some sensible nuggets in there, too.

"... civilization is the opposite of nature for a reason--we invented it because nature is dangerous. In nature, something is always trying to kill you, because that's basically how the system works."

"...what's the problem with believing that faraway creatures are kind, noble beings frolicking in a land of rainbows and flowers? ... what's wrong is that since we haven't quite  managed to drive all our fellow creatures to extinction yet, people still do run into them from time to time. And believing that nature is benevolent and animals are noble and cuddly is likely to get you into some serious trouble."

Bless her heart, she cites her references at the end.

Link to Amazon
Link to Linda's blog

Disclaimer: Linda's publicist sent me a free copy. I don't know her personally and I wasn't paid for this review.

We're kind and noble. Really. You can trust us.

A writer's cycles

Hello? Are you there? I'm back! My blog has been dead quiet for weeks due to the natural rhythms of a writer's life. Here's how it works:

1. New book is in production. Blogging is fun because there's lots to write about and  time to write it. The manuscript is turned in, the old project is winding down, and attention turns to new ideas and new projects. It's time to take an interest in the outside world, to share, to write something, anything, other than that wretched novel that took up 100% of the brain-space for months.

2. New book comes out. Awk! No more meandering! It's all about promotion. Blogging is now required! Blog about the book, topics related to the book, events past and future to promote the book, kind reviews of the book, national news relevant to the book, how the dog liked the book, etc.

3. Writer settles into a new project. Time again for an outline, research, initial drafts. Can't draft a novel eight hours a day, the brain won't take it. So there's still time and ideas for blogging. Blog about the research, the agony of outlines, the anxiety of pacing, the angst of characters, and, oh, keep on with promoting the most recent book.

4. Yeepers! That new novel is due. Forget blogging. Enter the Blog Cone of Silence. Days, weeks, months go by... Writer might be dead, for all you know. Writer may wish she were dead. Beneath the silent sea, passion, sweat, doubts, and tears heave and roil.

5. Writer turns in manuscript and falls into a sodden heap. Wanders about in a daze. Wonders why mail is stacked up, full of second notices on bills. All the laundry is dirty. Friends and relatives are feeling neglected and are bitter about it. Dog has bonded with spouse exclusively, assuming spouse hasn't moved out and filed papers. Why is there no food in this house?

6. Go to Step 1.

Don't you think you should learn to manage your time better??

A Zoo Keeper Never Forgets

 My spousal unit arranged tickets for a Lucinda Williams concert last night and we had a great time. Her encore was especially fine--covers of protest songs. I haven't heard Merle Haggard's "If We Make It Through December" in years. Brings a tear every time.

So this morning when he (the husband, not Merle) brought me coffee in bed, I smiled from my pillow with a special twinkle. But no. "Get up. There's a possum in the basement," he announced. "I've got a sign to paint down there. The customer's coming in two hours." He didn't quite wring his hands.

Ah, true love. Our contract is clear: he deals with dead animals, I cope with the live ones. "Go ahead and paint the sign," I said. "If it's on the other side of the basement, it won't attack." And I hauled my rear out of bed wishing we had some thick leather gloves and a catch pole. I drank the coffee, got dressed (opting for boots over sports shoes), and explored what the garage had to offer in the way of capture gear. It offered a five-gallon bucket.


As for how the possum got in--had to be the doggie door--and why our noble canine, Murphy The Hairy Little Dog, didn't deal? His attitude seems to be that he is a lap dog and a ball dog and if we have troubles with empty laps or escaping tennis balls, he's the pup for the  job. But interloping possums? He didn't even bark. I doubt he ever knew it was there. So much for keen senses and ancient instincts.

No one would accuse Didelphis virginiana of excessive competence, and this specimen was no exception. The teenage varmint sat hunkered down on the lid of our washing machine in a basement replete with dark hidey-holes. It could not have been  more conspicuous. It hissed at me. Again I wished for good gloves. But it just sat there as I clapped the bucket over its head, shoved a thin piece of plywood underneath, and carried it all out to the driveway. I turned the critter loose and it ran off to become someone else's problem. Husband cheered.


So take note, all of you who see my gray hair and wonder just how long it's been since I actually worked at a zoo. It's been awhile, I'll cop to that, but the skill set? Still in place, at least in part. And now I've got the evidence.

The Tragedy in Zanesville, Ohio

I break blog-silence and interrupt work on Threatened & Endangered to mourn the disaster in Ohio--49 of 56 escaped wild animal shot to death. Most of them were carnivores--lions, tigers, bears. Read about it HERE.

What a horrible outcome to a damaged man's hobby. But how surprising is this, really? What individual can afford to feed and care for that many animals properly? Who would take them if he became disabled? Who wants to live next door? Keeping dangerous animals as pets has got to be one of the worst ideas "animal lovers" can come up with.

Oh, and let me add here, that the vast majority of these private collections make zero contribution to conservation. Especially if they breed tigers. No one outside the pet trade and the traditional Asian medicine trade has any use for mongrel tigers. Read that again--there is no conservation value to tigers or any other wild animal bred outside a planned breeding program coordinated with other institutions. Zero.

This is about people trying to feel valued and loved by surrounding themselves with charismatic creatures. This is about the humane care of wild animals who are totally under the control of people. This is about what happens when private collections are celebrated and envied.

Ohio will take another look at its laws, among the laxest in the nation. Many people will urge tight controls over exotic animal ownership. Those who already own exotic animals will fight hard to prevent this, probably on grounds that they shouldn't be punished for the mistakes of another. As far as I'm concerned, keeping any dangerous wild animal (and most of them are dangerous) as a pet is the mistake. The pet owner may benefit emotionally, but the animal suffers an unnatural life and the rest of us are at risk. Sanctuaries are stuffed with discarded wild animal pets. Enough already.

Cheetahs in the wild. Just to cheer me up.

Here's a blog I did for Poisoned Pen Press. I'm hard at work on the next zoo mystery plus travel plus house guests, so this will have to do for now!

Day-Tripping with Crime Fighters

Bison Enrichment

Bison have rather poor eyesight, hence the Large Type Edition.

Try this at home: Enrich the Dog

I've been reading The Animal Keeper Forum lately, the newsletter of the American Association of Zoo Keepers. It's chock full of "enrichment" ideas--ways to stimulate, entertain, and challenge animals that might otherwise be bored into pacing, chewing on the fence, or harassing their companions. Instead, the keepers rack their brains to come up with puzzle feeders, toys, and a variety of experiences and sensations. They do this not just because they want the best quality of life for the animals, but also because a formal enrichment program is a requirement for Association of Zoos & Aquariums' accreditation.

Mind you, this has to be done is such a way as to not scare the bejabbers out of the critter, not give them the opportunity to damage themselves (think of a two-year-old and a nice length of rope), and not put the keeper or other animals at risk. The ideas are wonderfully creative.

Meanwhile, Murphy nudges my thigh and recommends another walk. How to apply the same creativity to my own dog? We provided lots of toys, puzzle feeders, and walks when Murphy was a puppy because it was entirely clear that he would destroy property relentlessly until and unless we did. But he's grown up now and we've slacked off. Time to think about this again.

Keepers work with scent, object, audio, food, and training categories of enrichment.

I tried scent first by digging out an old bottle of Wrappings perfume, by Clinique, and giving a few squirts to objects in the backyard. Murphy noticed that the yard now smelled like a bordello, but, frankly, he didn't give a damn. Bits of liver treats scattered on the lawn were a different matter. That's enriching as all get out.

 Got one!

Next up: objects. I've neglected the rule for toys: rotate them. The eviscerated hedgehog, the shredded tug-a-war toy, the half-gnawed Nyla bones--yawn. I took them all away and dug out a weird fuzzy egg-thing with a squeaker in it. That is Big Fun. I'll give him one of his toys each day and take one away so they stay fresh.

Oooh! I will destroy you!

Audio: That was a stumper. Then I remembered Birdscapes, a big pop-up book by Miyoko Chu with the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. (I love pop-up books.) It opens to a landscape with bird and environmental sounds. I tried the Eastern Deciduous Forest, frogs and a ruffed grouse. Murphy was interested and a little scared, but the fuzzy brown egg was more fun. We have music in the house regularly, which doesn't interest him, but people use the sidewalk out front and sometimes have the effrontery to converse, which requires barking. Enough with the audio enrichment!

What the??

Food: See Scent, above. Liver treats says it all. No, we go farther. An adult dog needs to be fed only once a day, but we feed three times. He's a dog who appreciates a little garnish, not much, just--please--make an effort! A light grating of a nice Parmesan, a swirl of chicken gravy, a dribble of bacon grease. I am guilt-free on that subject. And, of course, there are puzzle feeders. I pull one of these out if we're going to be gone most of the day and either put his breakfast in it or a smear of peanut butter.

Training: We haven't done Circus Dog much lately. I've got this book to write! But it's only 15 minutes after dinner, so that excuse is lame. Murphy loves Circus Dog. Focused attention plus liver treats. What more could a dog ask? We have guests coming, so the show will be on. Sit, lie down, speak, shake hands, up on the stool, down from the stool, jump through the hoop. We working on fetch the brown chew toy versus fetch the white chew toy, but it's not in  place yet. Murphy leaves show biz to chew the chew toy.

House guests ought to be on the enrichment list, no? New faces, new petters. And his walks, once or twice a day, to check out the neighborhood and chase the ball at the park. I try to take a different route now and then. Sleep-overs with his friend Sally the cattle dog when we're out of town.

The Enriched Dog

What else can dog people do to keep their canine mentally alert and interested in life? Add a suggestion and I'll see what Murphy thinks of it.