Elephant Aid International

Tag: carol and tarra

  • A Handy Solution

    A Handy Solution

    Yesterday when Tarra was getting a drink, Mala was doing her regular leg, foot, tail and trunk inspection. She calmly walked around Tarra in her usual way, under her belly and around her legs, sniffing her feet and her trunk, looking up at her face curiously. Tarra stood perfectly still and did not utter a sound. This is her way of making sure that she doesn’t frighten Mala, or any other dog who is brave enough to approach. She just loves it when Mala comes around and they both appear to savor every bit of the attention they share.

    When Tarra was done drinking and I was about to leave she reached her trunk toward my hand and started chattering. She knows that when I leave, so does Mala, and she apparently had not gotten her fill of dog attention. So, she took my hand with her trunk and ushered me to sit on the ground. You get it, she holds my hands and gently but firmly directs me to sit on the ground under her chest in front of her legs. Imagine an usher in a dark theater firmly directing you to your seat and you’ve got the picture. She has done this a million times.  I can’t help but laugh, tell her not to hold my hand SO tight, and feign resistance as I wholeheartedly yield to her wishes.

    Tarra knows from experience that with me sitting directly under her chin she’ll be involved in doggie play. Of course, I know the drill, Tarra holds my hand so that when I play with and pet Mala, Tarra is petting her as well. Ingenious, no? She is so clever. By using me as the middleman, Tarra gets to pet Mala! And most times, just when Mala is all played out, she will sprawl out, frog style, right in front of Tarra and allow her to gently rub her belly.

    Tarra so enjoys Mala’s company that I never refuse her desire for doggie play. Being the middleman is my part, which I find both rewarding and an honor.

    Tarra uses Carol Buckley's hand to pet Mala the dog

    This photo was captured from the EleCam. Its blurry but gives you a visual of Tarra’s ingenious manipulation!

  • Happy Birthday My Girl (A message from an adoptive mother to her beloved daughter)

    Happy Birthday My Girl (A message from an adoptive mother to her beloved daughter)

    Feb 14, 2014

    Hi my dear Tarra,

    Happy Birthday! I can hardly believe you are turning 40. It just doesn’t seem possible, does it? I miss you babe, and hope you have a fabulous birthday!

    I sure wish we could be together today. But since we can’t, I’m on the other side of the planet helping your cousins. I know you are proud of my work. Heck, you’re the inspiration.

    Just thinking about you makes me smile and brings my heart joy. Even though I am unable to see you right now, I appreciate feeling your presence. It is the special gift you’ve always shared with those you love. Our separation is temporary; our bond, forever and unbreakable.

    By the way, your chain-free corral idea was a winner. It is such a simple and affordable way to get elephants off chains. You’re a genius! I wish I had thought of that one myself. Until we are reunited, keep sending me your great inspirations. I know you will.

    Love,

    Me

  • First came Tarra

    First came Tarra

    There are some memories that are etched so deeply in my mind that I will never forget them. Among them are the first day I stepped on-grounds at the Sanctuary, and the last day I stepped off.

    March 3rd brings back a flood of emotionally charged memories so intense that my senses are overwhelmed.  This is the day, back in 1995, when Tarra, Scott and I, along with my menagerie of dogs, birds and a single cat, moved to the Sanctuary.

    Moving day was determined by the weather and the amount of rainfall during the previous 48 hours. The reason was that the entrance to the Sanctuary presented a challenge for Tarra’s rig.

    Cane Creek, a shallow, gravel bottom creek that crosses in front of Sanctuary property, usually swelled over its banks after a heavy spring rain.

    The small wooden-plank bridge that crossed the creek was not sturdy enough to support the load of Tarra and her trailer. To accommodate larger, heavy vehicles, the local road maintenance crew leveled the embankment leading in and out of the creek, creating a bypass through the water. It was not paved and rumor is that many a driver had misjudged and ended up stuck in the soft gravel.

    On this day the creek was very low and we were convinced–well, I should say I was — that we could drive Tarra’s rig through the creek without a problem.

    With the engine screaming –RP’s through the roof, gravel crunching under tons of pachyderm weight and steel–we plunged into the shallow creek.

    The soft creek bed felt like quicksand under our weight but I was determined not to spin the tires nor slow enough to get bogged down.  A happy balance was required and apparently it was reached because after what seemed like an eternity, we came crawling out the other side of the creek. I am sure our new neighbors heard our victory cheer over the screaming engine.

    My dream realized

    When I delivered my precious cargo to the threshold of my realized dream, I could hardly contain my excitement.

    Over the previous three months I spent many days at the Sanctuary preparing the property for Tarra’s arrival. I always wondered if she knew what was about to happen. She definitely had to sense something grand was about to unfold, something that she had inspired.

    For close to ten years I meticulously built this Sanctuary in my mind’s eye: the landscape, forest thick with trees, ponds, hills and pastures wrapped around a secluded valley with a creek running through the middle. I saw this image in my mind many times over the years and now it was real, my dream come true.

    With the truck safely through the creek and parked inside the gates of elephant heaven, I anticipated pure silence.  But what I heard brought a smile to my heart.

    The surrounding trees were teaming with flocks of boisterous birds, each determined to out-sing the others.  Their voices filled the air with soft chirps, tweets and rowdy calls. It was heavenly. I closed my eyes and breathed in the joy and magnificence of this moment, this day, this new beginning.

    By the time this day arrived, Tarra and I had already shared a lifetime together with our family of dogs, goats, cats and birds. In addition to being naturally social, Tarra is very precious. She thrived in her big family.

    Now we were literally standing on the threshold of monumental change. The Sanctuary would finally enable to us to expand the family to include other elephants. I had to refrain from thinking about this too much for fear I would burst from excitement.

    First came Tarra

    Then it was Tarra’s turn to take her first breath of Sanctuary air, which she did with much gusto, starting with a mighty trumpet as she bounded out of her trailer. She always thrills me with her drama queen antics. And I mean drama queen in the best way. Her playful side is her only side. She takes fun to the limit, adventure to the outer limit and when her people and her dogs share the adventure she is over the top.

    Chattering her signature “bark” and spinning in circles, making volleyball size divots in the grass, Tarra hesitated for a split second. Then it was all four legs pumping as fast as she could drive them, leaving us with a view of her beautiful buttocks as she raced into the pasture.

    My cheeks hurt so bad from smiling as I ran after her, not wanting to miss a second of this, our latest adventure.

    Tarra ran around the pasture, doing her best to keep me and the dogs engaged in her play. It worked–we thoroughly enjoyed the fun she created.

    The following twelve months was spent preparing for our second pachyderm resident and the unfolding of the Camelot years at the Elephant Sanctuary in Tennessee.

    Namaste, Tarra. You inspired a vision like no other and continue to inspire me each and every day of my life.

  • Asia calls

    Asia calls

    The annual monsoon season is nearly over. Asia is calling me back, once again.

    These weeks home have flown by, filled with taking care of business and preparing for my return to Asia. This coming trip will be my fourth in two-and-a-half years.

    Looking back over my work in Asia has given me a clearer perspective. Each visit built upon the one before, resulting in a firm foundation for elephant welfare programs.

    At first I had no idea what I could accomplish, so I just went and investigated. The search led to discoveries, which resulted in an avalanche of ideas.

    Filtering through all the possibilities, I decided to hone in on areas where I felt most confident. Providing services in a foreign country is challenging enough.

    Doing what I know best has proven to be a wise decision. This is where the mantra “One world, one elephant at a time” got its foothold.

    The idea of trying to save an entire world of suffering elephants is overwhelming, but helping one needy elephant at a time feels doable. The idea actually calms me. I know that we can help one and then another and then another after that.

    The Sanctuary: one elephant at a time

    With Tarra as my inspiration, this is exactly how  the Sanctuary began. My initial goal was to create a safe and healthy place for her to live out  her life, away from zoo and circus.

    With Tarra safely in her sanctuary home, our focus turned to rescuing six solitary female Asian elephants living in zoos and circuses. And we did it—one elephant at a time.

    First came Barbara,

    an ex-circus elephant living alone in a Florida backyard.

    Then came Jenny,

    living alone in a dilapidated dog and cat shelter outside Las Vegas.

    After Jenny was Shirley,

    rescued from a solitary life at the Louisiana Purchase Garden and Zoo

    then Bunny, darling of the Mesker Park Zoo

    Sissy, from the El Paso Zoo

    who had lived alone for two decades at the Frank Buck Zoo

    and Tina, born at the Portland, Oregon zoo

    living alone at the Vancouver Wild Animal Park.

    All were elephants who had lived alone for decades. Each was rescued because we believed that we could help, one elephant at a time.

    Starting again

    Now I feel we have come full circle, back to the starting point. A huge challenge lies ahead of us with so many elephants in need. But instead of being overwhelmed, experience has taught me that focusing on one needy elephant at a time is doable. I know that we can help one and then another and then another after that.

    As always, I will let Tarra inspire and guide me.

    With that vision of possibility firmly planted in my mind, I understand how we now find ourselves—a short two-and-a-half years later after I first went to Asia—experiencing such fabulous results.

    Focusing our efforts on our strengths has been incredibly well received by our colleagues in Asia. Working together has been the key. Together we are improving elephant welfare with foot care, mahout training, chain-free yards and our continuing efforts to develop elephant care centers and retirement homes.

    The ideas for these projects were planted like so many tiny seeds and now they are growing like weeds. I need to get back to Asia and continue where we left off.

    I am thrilled to announce that in my absence, requests have come for expansion of our programs. Yes, they want more chain-free yards, more pedicures, more mahout training and retirement centers for aging elephants. I am so excited about how our elephant welfare programs have caught on! The future is indeed bright.

    Preparing For Pedicures

    On my last visit to Nepal, 84 elephants received pedicures. The goal for my next visit is 100 elephants–400 feet! With that goal in mind I need to restock our foot trimming tools! Using disposable trimming blades ensures trimming accuracy and the highest level of hygiene; one package of two blades services one elephant. The easy-to-grip handles are perfect for precision but they wear out after a dozen or so elephants. The heavy duty farrier rasps are perfect for the job and the mahouts like this tool, but the rasp becomes dull after a short time.

    I hope you will join in the excitement and help us purchase trimming blades, handles and nail filing rasps. I have posted a chipin to meet our goal of foot trimming supplies for 100 elephants. If you prefer to purchase the pedicure tools separately, please visit the EAI wish list.

    To paraphrase a popular saying, helping one elephant won’t change the world. But helping one elephant will change the world for that elephant. This next trip to Asia promises to be incredibly beneficial for many more elephants, thanks to your continued support.

    A HUGE THANK YOU to all who donated to the Foot Trimming Tools ChipIn. We reached our goal, in record time, all thanks to you!

  • Tarra meets a baby bird

    Tarra meets a baby bird

    The story that goes with this touching photo taken in 2001 is equally amazing. I went out to the back of the Phase ll barn and found Tarra staring at the fledging on the horizontal corral cable. I was without camera and said to Tarra, “Don’t move, don’t scare it — I’m going to get the camera.  I’ll be right back!”

    I ran back the length of the barn and up the stairs, found my camera, ran back down the stairs and out to the back of the barn. It had to have taken me two to three minutes. When I came back around the corner, Tarra was standing perfectly still, in the exact same spot as when I left her. I swear she was holding her breath.

    I was able to take three photos before the fledgling flew off.

    I praised Tarra for standing so still and for not trying to touch the baby bird, which I could tell she was dying to do. Her eyes were still as large as saucers, sparkling with excitement. She squeaked, took a deep breath and let out a piercing trumpet.

    Another magical moment with Tarra.

  • Ojai remembers Tarra

    Craig Walker from the Ojai Valley Museum contacted me recently. He was interested in an update about Tarra since our time living in Ojai. His article brought back fond memories of Tarra and me, and the community’s warm embrace of our unique relationship.

    I am always amazed to hear recollections from people who have meet Tarra over the years.  Some of the stories are simply outlandish. One such story that really made me laugh was Matt’s memory of seeing Tarra skating down Matilija Canyon Road with three or four guys on horses holding her back with ropes.

    WOW. Even though that might  sound fun, it never happened. I don’t doubt for a moment that Matt and his friends actually saw Tarra with her horse, donkey, pygmy goats and dogs in tow, but there were no ropes or skates involved.  Most likely what Matt witnessed was Tarra and family darting across Hwy 33 on our way to Matilija Lake. I admit that Tarra runs as smooth as a gazelle, so perhaps she appeared to be roller skating!

    Many have asked where the skating gimmick came from. Truth is, it was just another inspiration on the road to sanctuary.

    As Tarra grew, performing became increasingly boring for her. I struggled to find a way for her to enjoy the work. Since retiring was not yet in the cards, I looked for other ways to provide her a lifestyle she would enjoy.  By the time she was eight years old, that quest had already taken us from amusement park performer to circus performer to private party entertainer, to Hollywood bit player to watercolor artist. Keeping the work varied helped alleviate the boredom that seemed the greatest threat to Tarra’s cheery attitude.

    While discussing my dilemma with a friend, I jokingly said, “I should teach her to rollerskate. It’s easy, fun and all the rage right now.”

    We looked at each other and burst into excited laughter. He said, “That’s it! She’ll love it – Tarra, the world’s only roller skating elephant.”

    The research that followed resulted in a set of clunky steel-frame skates with custom-made knee-high boots and industrial casters that rolled forward only. A star was born.

    In those days I was unfamiliar with animal activism. I knew Tarra very well and was not surprised when she took to her skates like a fish to water…almost too much in fact. I know that animal activists reading this post will cringe at the very thought of me discussing Tarra’s skating in any positive light at all. But the truth is the truth. Tarra loved it.

    Each skate fit like a glove and strapped on with seat belts. There was no way that anyone could have forced Tarra into her skates; she had to put them on herself. She would step inside the 12-inch high boot and wiggle her foot around until her toes slipped into custom designed padded toe spaces. Her assistants, all three of us, would then strap the sides of the boots and pull the seat belt straps tight.

    Getting suited up with her skates took close to 20 minutes. The entire time she would chatter, trumpet and purr in anticipation of the fun. The hardest part was getting her to wait until she was completely and securely strapped in before bolting off, trunk and tail extended, in a mad dash around the roller rink.

    It might come as a surprise why Tarra stopped skating. She never tired of the fun, but I learned how opposed to such unnatural activity certain people were.

    One day, while Tarra was skating before a large crowd in an open parking lot, a well-dressed woman approached me, grabbed my arm and started yelling, “Animal abuse!” Of course I looked around to see what she was talking about and then realized she was talking about me.

    I was shocked, unable to understand how this person could ever see Tarra’s play as abuse.  But that was the point: Tarra was having fun but skating was sending the wrong message.

    I really grew up that day, realizing that perception is everything. If even one person saw Tarra’s skating as abusive, we could not do it. I began researching the animal activist movement and retired Tarra’s skates.

    I believe that Tarra’s skating was not just another effort on my part to enrich her life. I believe it was another step along the road to sanctuary.

  • While daydreaming about Tarra……

    While daydreaming about Tarra……

    I recalled our first romp on a pristine beach in Santa Barbara, CA. Tarra was a spunky youngster, small by elephant standards, full of playful energy. It was early morning, the sun was just lighting up the southern California sky and the beach was surprisingly empty. Like kids off on a grand adventure we climbed over the dunes that divided the highway from the beach beyond. Tarra sunk to her knees in the dry sand with each gangly step, leaving cavernous holes in her wake.

    Abandoned volleyball courts lay down the beach to the left. The water’s edge was active with sandpipers plunging their beaks into the sand like tiny oil derricks. With an excited trumpet blast Tarra bolted toward the big blue ocean, dragging her toes in the wet sand as she ran. The resulting gouges filled in with each consecutive wave, erasing any trace of her presence.

    Tarra enthusiastically ran toward the ocean as the water receded. But when an underdeveloped wave crashed at her feet, she screeched to a halt and back peddled awkwardly. Squeaking gleefully, trunk curled up under her chin, head pulled down low, she got eye level with the wave. As it once again receded, her confidence returned. Ankle-deep in the foamy swirl of sand and salt water, she did not notice the new wave building. It formed quickly, rising like a cobra from the ocean floor and slapped her broad side with a crack. Caught by surprise, Tarra’s eyes flashed wide. She stood frozen for a split second, staring straight at me. I could not help it, I broke up with laughter.

    Recognizing the mischievous look on her face, I started running down the beach to get the jump on our ever familiar foot race. Tarra came tearing out of the water, running as fast as her stocky legs could drive her, trunk and tail fully extended like a bird dog on point. Our foot race ritual was a bonding exercise. Sometimes I let her win and other times she let me. This time it appeared that she was determined to be the winner. Slowed by the soft sand caressing our ankles, we raced down the beach, neck-in-neck, until she surged forward in a final sprint, leaving me in her dust clinching my sides in laughter.

    Only then did I notice we were being watched. A uniformed man standing some distance away called out, “Miss, you cannot have an elephant on the beach.” Jokingly I responded, “Sorry, I didn’t see the sign.”