Tag: carol buckley

  • Nature At Her Finest

    Nature At Her Finest

    Sitting on my deck one late afternoon overlooking the gently flowing Buffalo River, I settled into the calm of nature listening to the many birds whose voices filled the air.

    One particular bird, a cardinal, was acting in an unusual manner, hopping from branch to branch, about eye level. His sharp high-pitched chirp seemed to be directed at me.

    I looked around and realized what he was upset about. There on my deck, not 5 feet from me, was a baby bird. Not quite a fledgling, obviously out of the nest too early. Instantly I understood her behavior: a dad concerned for his baby.

    After moving out of the way so the mom could guide her chick to safety, progress was seriously slow. The chick was so young, so weak, not capable of the feat required of her.

    After urgent encouragement from mom, the chick flew a couple of feet. Just when I was sure she would plummet into the river below, she reached out her spindly leg and grabbed a twig and righted herself but could not be urged to make another attempt at flight.

    All the while her father darted to her, then flew off again to a branch not too far away, calling in that high-pitched plea. But the chick was done for the day; she would not move.

    Dad flew off and there was only silence. I was saddened to think that the mother had abandoned his chick. I rationalized that he probably realized the chick would not survive the night. But to my surprise Dad returned minutes later, and several more times over the next 15 minutes, bringing his baby food, which the chick ate ravenously.

    The sun set, the birds quieted and I went to bed sad, convinced the baby bird would die overnight.

    When I woke to that familiar high-pitched chirp, I assumed it was another fearless father caring for another chick in peril. But my heart nearly burst and tears streamed down my face when I saw the same little chick hanging on for dear life in the exact same place as last night.

    Dad was darting back and forth trying to get the chick to follow him to a safer place, away from the water. The chick made two gallant attempts at flight, managing to put a few feet between her and the river below.

    Dad rewarded her with another feeding frenzy. I was encouraged and amazed by their tenacity, determination and grit.

    Throughout the day, the silence would be broken by Dad calling his baby closer and closer to safety. I tracked them, staying my distance so as not to interfere. The chick spent another night away from her nest, but by day three she was back under the safe wing of her mother.

    By now she is probably fully fledged and gone from the nest, soaring and learning the lessons she will need next year when she raises her own chicks.

    I felt honored to be witness to the scene as it unfolded. This mother bird did everything possible to ensure the safety and survival of her chick. You can call it maternal instinct, survival instinct or just natural behavior, but I call it love.

  • New DJ&T Grant Funds Lambodhar Prasad Project

    New DJ&T Grant Funds Lambodhar Prasad Project

    Lambodhar PrasadElephant Aid International sincerely appreciates a generous grant from the DJ&T Foundation in support of our The Lambodhar Prasad Project: Freeing Nepal’s Chain Gang. DJ&T founder Bob Barker is known for his philanthropy on behalf of animals; EAI is delighted to have the foundation’s support for this revolutionary project.

  • Hanako

    Hanako

    Three days have passed since I was in Japan to meet Hanako and assess her welfare.

    Hanako has lived at the Inokashira Park Zoo for the majority of her 69 years. Her small concrete exhibit, antiquated dry moat and solitary existence are a far cry from what nature intended for this wild-born, highly evolved, social being.

    In a better world Hanako would have lived her entire life with her extended family of mother, sisters, nieces, aunts and grandmother. Knowing that Hanako has been denied her natural life has led many people to believe that she must be miserable.

    The common consensus was that moving Hanako to a sanctuary is the only way to improve her life. Under different circumstances that might be true.

    But after visiting with Hanako and seeing her for myself, I realized that moving her now, at this stage in her life, is not an option. I prepared a report for the zoo with many recommendations for how staff can improve her life. Moving Hanako to a sanctuary was not one of them.

    The news that Hanako will not be moved to a sanctuary resulted in an outpouring of emotional responses from her supporters worldwide. Many were angry. Some could not accept the fact that such a move would traumatize this geriatric elephant, causing her more harm than good. The universal reaction shared by all was mourning Hanako’s lost opportunity for freedom.

    No one is more heartbroken than I that Hanako will never experience her birthright, living in a natural environment with trees, grass and other elephants. It would have been a dream come true, if not for Hanako’s advanced age, lack of teeth, failing eyesight, frailness, change in sleeping habits (she no longer lies down to sleep) and inability to cope with change. Hanako’s reality is that she is a senior citizen in hospice care.

    I am convinced that zoo staff are sincere in their intention to better Hanako’s situation. Ulara, who is spearheading this effort for Hanako, will work diligently with them to implement the changes I recommended.

    Even though Hanako will not be moved from the zoo, the deficiencies she has lived with for decades will be addressed. The outdated moat can be filled in or fenced off to keep her from falling in. Rubber flooring is a quick and viable solution to hard, cold concrete surfaces. Additional behavioral enrichment objects will help stimulate and keep Hanako active. Strategically placed infrared heaters and automatic waterers will increase her comfort. And Hanako’s keepers, whom she is so very fond of, will be encouraged to spend more time interacting with her to satisfy her social needs. This arrangement is not perfect, but Hanako will benefit from the improvements.

    My goal for Hanako is to enrich her life while respecting her limitations. She is a grande old dame who has given her life to the people of Japan. In her final days, every effort should be made to bring her comfort and ensure that she feels loved, on her terms.

    Hanako’s Report submitted to the zoo

  • The Measure of Success

    The Measure of Success

    EAI’s Chain Free Means Pain Free project, which frees elephant from chains is the first of its kind in Asia. Honestly I was surprised to learn that such an effort had never before been attempted for the thousands of captive-held elephants used in the tourist industry all over Asia.

    Solar powered high tensile wire fencing is a simple and relatively inexpensive solution to the decades-long practiced of chaining elephants to a stake in the ground.

    Nepal chain free done Apr 2015

    When our Chain Free Means Pain Free project was completed in Nepal in April 2015, I breathed a sigh of relief and felt flush with appreciation for what we’d accomplished.

    It was not an easy project, working in remote areas, many times with no means to transport fencing materials, except on our backs. We crossed rivers, hiked through miles of jungle and dealt with hostile locals who saw the areas selected by the government for elephant corrals as their domain.

    And then there were the naysayers, people incapable of embracing change, who made progress slower than necessary.

    But through all the trials and tribulations, downpours, leaky roofs, river crossings, miles hiked in the searing heat and skeptics, we prevailed, creating corrals for 54 elephants and releasing them into their personal chain-free sanctuaries.

    Without exception, introductions to the corrals were a phenomenal success, including for a few adult males with long tusks. Why not? The elephants clearly understood the freedom they were being given. Freedom and autonomy are great healers for a soul enslaved for decades. Each, without hesitation or concern, melted into the lush habitat that was their new home.

    Mahouts feared change

    Before their elephants were released from chains, the mahouts lost sleep, fearing that their elephant would take advantage of the freedom and become feral.

    The consistency of the their fear surprised me. I naively assumed that mahouts knew elephant behavior and understood that freedom from chains reduces stress, which results in the elephants relaxing and becoming more cooperative. But they thought the opposite.

    It was from this experience, repeated with every mahout, that I learned how little mahouts actually know about elephant psyche and behavior.

    Hours spent in the hattisar (elephant stable) with the mahouts and the elephants taught me that most mahouts do not recognize an elephant’s most characteristic behaviors, such as playing, socializing, bonding and grieving.  Mahout knowledge is limited to how to control an elephant and avoid getting killed. So much of what they think they know is superstition and folklore.

    The first time the mahouts observed an adult elephant playing in her new corral they panicked. The mahouts wanted to stop her, control her, because they thought she was becoming aggressive. Awareness of an elephant’s emotional life or physical suffering is not something they are taught. Even minor physical problems are ignored until they become serious and require veterinary attention.

    Different approach to unchaining pays off

    As result of the time I spent observing the mahouts with their elephants, I realized I needed to approach the unchaining process differently. I needed to teach the mahouts about their elephants—their behavior, fears, likes and dislikes—and explain why unchaining affects elephants in a positive way.

    This approach paid off. Even though some mahouts remained skeptical, most felt more confident in my promise that their relationship with their elephant would get better, not worse.

    No success without sustainability

    Another lesson I’ve learned though our Chain Free Means Pain Free project is that we must build sustainability into foreign projects.

    It is not enough to provide a great product with stellar results if the locals are not able or willing to sustain it.

    I returned to Nepal eight months after completing 54 chain-free corrals to find that few were actually still functioning and being used. I was devastated.

    It seemed incomprehensible that minor repairs were not even attempted. In some cases, fully functioning corrals housed elephants on chains!

    But I knew there had to be a solution. I simply would not give up. Sustainability is the measure of success and I was determined to keep these elephants off chains.

    EAI hires Nepali manager

    Last November, thanks to generous underwriting from supporter Donna Marshall, EAI hired a manager for our projects in Nepal.

    Kulendra Kunwar

    Kulendra Kunwar, a native Nepali, was well known to EAI prior to being hired. He’d volunteered in the spring of 2015 during corral construction at the largest hattisar in Khorsor. He proved to be a valuable asset then and the perfect manager for our project now.

    In just a few short months, thanks to Kulendra’s ability to repair corrals and educate and motivate the mahouts, 14 out of 15 hattisars now have corrals that are fully functional.

    Of these 14 hattisars, all but two keep their elephants chain free 24/7. Those two keep their elephants chain free during daylight hours but, due to fear of the area’s poisonous king cobra snakes and tigers, the elephants are chained close to the home fires of the mahout housing at night.

    New mahout housing means chain-free elephants

    There is an easy solution for the two hattisars (Sukivar and Khoria Mohan) that fear the poisonous snakes and tigers.

    Currently, the mahout housing—a simple two-room wooden shack, outhouse and outdoor cooking area—is several hundred yards from the corrals.

    If we raise the funds to build mahout housing adjacent to the corrals, the elephants will be left off chains 24/7.

    Our goal is to raise $16,500 for improvements at the two hattisars. As soon as the funds are raised, housing in both hattisars can be built and the elephants can once again be left chain free 24/7. If you would like to donate, you can do so here.

    I am quite the optimist, dogged about my dreams. Hard work and seemingly impossible challenges don’t scare me off, although I do wonder why some things have to be so difficult. Then I remember that there is Nepali time and there is U. S. time, polar opposites in many ways. But there is never a time to give up.

    Please join me in continuing to dream the dream that releases elephants from chains, reunites loved ones and changes culture to benefit captive-held elephants and the people who care for them.

  • 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

  • Forest Dwellers

    Forest Dwellers

    Today’s foot trimming adventure was over the top, a marathon day with Dr. Gairhe—the senior government veterinarian—leading the way.

    Kiran and Chitran, the two vet tech/3rd year foot trimming students, and I fit perfectly in the back seat of the full-size pickup truck…or so I thought when we all piled in. If it had not been for the road conditions, the ride would have been…well, let’s say, less memorable. I’m not complaining — far from it — and I enjoyed every minute of our 14-hour adventure.

    One thing that struck me this time in Nepal is realizing my unconscious expectation of comforts that I take for granted in the US. Sitting between two large men, bouncing down a seriously bumpy road and being slammed side-to-side like bumper cars, I realized that I accepted this assignment with an unreasonable expectation of transportation comfort. The reality of the situation made me laugh.

    The Nepalese don’t fret over physical discomfort, they simply accept it. So when I started joking about the guys staying on their own side of the seat, it soon became a humorous game. When Kiran would absent mindedly crowd my space, I drew an imaginary line between us and said, “You have crossed the line,” and like two adolescents we’d crack up with laughter. Soon everyone got into the game of not invading each other’s space, so when Kiran flopped his entire arm over Chitran’s leg, he was abruptly chastised—jokingly. Everyone broke out into hysterical laughter. It was refreshingly silly to experience such discomfort and be able to laugh about it together.

    Humor aside, I realized that if I continued to be thrown back and forth between the football player-size shoulders on either side of me, I was going to be very sore, if not crippled by the end of the day, so I pulled rank (age, actually) and claimed the window seat. This was much better for me as I could press myself against the door and hang onto the armrest for security.

    Four outposts, seven elephants and a canoe like a swimming pool

    Our mission for the day was to visit four government outposts to trim the feet of seven elephants. Our first stop was Gadini outpost, a place we visited last year. After driving for nearly two hours we arrived on the bank of a beautiful river. The flimsy wooden canoe that would carry us to our destination was on the opposite side of the river. The boat man soon appeared and to my amusement proceeded to bail out the canoe—it had taken on quite a bit of water—before heading in our direction.

    In order to board in peaceful waters we hiked a short distance upstream. The day was already steamy hot. Tiny frogs scattered as we approached the water’s edge, disappearing into the calm shallows.

    Our canoe was waiting when we arrived and we gingerly climbed aboard. A real man, or woman for that matter, sits on the floor of the boat. But customs are changed for foreigners. The government guard post on our side of the river provided tiny wooden seats for our canoeing comfort—and to keep our backsides dry. I kind of wondered where the life jackets were, since the canoe was already taking on water through cracks in the flimsy wooden planks strapped together with giant metal staples. To add to the drama, Dr. G asked “Can you swim?” I can’t remember not knowing how to swim, and wondered the level of fear one would experience crossing this fast-moving river in a boat that resembled a swimming pool, not knowing how to swim.

    With a smooth push off from a ten-foot bamboo pole, the boat master expertly guided us into the swiftly moving current. The water picked up volume and speed and within minutes we were deposited on the opposite bank without incident. We disembarked and hiked the short distance into the forest to the outpost. The forest was lush and green and teaming with active, boisterous bird life.

    Gadini outpost: Healthy feet and relaxed elephants

    Namastes were exchanged and then it was right to work. Kiran requested that the crew pa (machete) be sharpened, which is effectively done on a large rock with sand. No power sharpening tools here: they use the available resources and manage just fine.

    Elephants Sano Chanchal Kali and Rampyari were tethered under separate shelters bordered by the forest. The stables were clean and the girls looked on calmly.

    With a simply utterance of bite (lie down), Sano Chanchal Kali slowly folded to the ground without resistance or concern. We were all so pleased to see that her pads were healthy and evenly worn and her nails were only slightly overgrown.

    As I took “before” photos, put on my girly gloves and prepared my exacto blades, which are also kind of girly, the guys were already trimming excess nail with precision that is hard to imagine when using a machete. I am in awe of how well the men handle this tool, but they grow up using it, starting with cutting grass to feed livestock and later as a knife to cut anything.

    Sano Chanchal Kali took this special time of hati la na pita (don’t hit the elephant) to drop off into a fairly sound sleep for most of her trimming. She shifted to her other side without resistance and allowed us to give her one of the most beautiful pedicures to date!

    Almost in an identical fashion to her sister, Rampyri folded to the ground following a simple verbal command. The mahouts have gotten the word: if you want this crew to trim feet, no hitting allowed. Refreshing for us and for the elephant. Rampyri’s feet were another pleasant surprise, pads evenly worn and supple, nails only slightly overgrown and no sign of decay or infection. The crew commented on “what easy feet” these were.

    Our work in this camp was completed in record time thanks to the healthy condition of the elephants’ feet and the relationship they share with their mahouts.

    Honestly, I can’t remember if we had our home cooked meal at this outpost or the next — those details seem to blur together — but I do remember that to get to the second outpost we got back into the canoe and floated downstream for some time. A black egret fished on the shoreline ahead and a white breasted Kingfisher swooped past us in pursuit of a meal. Without any initial sign of elephant or mahout life, we landed again on the riverbank and hiked a short distance to the second camp.

    These camps are inside the national forest, which, in this location, is an island. Dr. G told us that wild bulls do not cross the river encircling this island. No one knows why, but as result of this phenomenon, captive bulls can be kept on the island without fear of being attacked by wild bulls.

    Kurauli post: More healthy feet and easy pedicures

    As with Gideni, the elephants at Kurauli post were aware of our arrival. Dhirendra Kali and Gandaki Kali, were waiting—mahouts casually mounted on top—surveying the approaching team.

    Before having hardly a chance to settle in, I heard “bit” followed by “raw,” which meant our first client had reclined and was awaiting her pedicure. We now operate quite smoothly as a crew. While I unpacked trimming tools, gloves and camera, the others examined the client’s feet and prepared for trimming by sharpening the machetes.

    We all commented on how great Dhirendra Kali’s feet looked. I liked the pattern I was seeing. The more remote the outpost, the better condition the elephants and their feet were in, the more skilled the mahouts were and the less pressure the elephants experienced when requests were made for their compliance. But of course, they were living in their element with the river nearby, sheltered under giant trees, on natural substrate and plenty of exercise combing the forest for poachers.

    With such healthy feet, there was little work for the crew. Shave off overgrown nails a little, check for decayed areas and she was done. Another easy pedicure!

    When Dhirendra Kali left the trimming area she let out a “Queenie-squeak.” It transported me back in time to the Sanctuary overlook at the Q-barn with Minnie, Lottie and Queenie playing in the mud, Queenie making her distinctive squeaks nonstop. Dhirendra Kali’s gentle sound brought back a very a pleasant memory for me. I accepted it as the gift it was.

    But this was not time for daydreaming because Gandaki Kali was already in place and waiting for her pedicure. I was pleased to see that her nails and pads were also healthy and only slightly overgrown.

    It is so encouraging to see that these elephants are getting sufficient exercise, on appropriate substrate, which is why their feet are so healthy.

    To be continued….

  • When Jenny Met Shirley

    Jenny and Shirley first met each other in 1976 at the Carson and Barnes Circus winter quarters in Oklahoma. Jenny was a youngster, newly imported from Asia. Shirley was recovering from a broken leg she sustained from an elephant attack many months prior.

    Circuses are known to keep elephants chained side-by-side according to size, largest to smallest. Since Shirley was unstable, having only three good legs, she was chained at the far end of the picket line away from the big elephants and right next to Jenny.

    Their time together was short-lived, only a couple of months. In early spring of 1977, Jenny was sent out on the road to perform with the circus and Shirley was sold to the Louisiana Purchase Gardens and Zoo in Monroe, LA.

    Twenty-three years passed. The next time they saw each other was when Jenny stepped inside her barn at The Elephant Sanctuary on July 6, 1999.

  • Jenny and Shirley’s reunion

    Jenny and Shirley’s reunion

    Recently, a friend emailed me a question: “During the filming of “The Urban Elephant” documentary, what was going on in your mind (and heart) when Shirley and Jenny were trying to get close to each other?”

    I realize many of you may be curious as well, so I decide to share with all of you.

    “The Urban Elephant” film crew had been at the Sanctuary all day and had just left for dinner when Jenny approached the barn. She and Shirley had not yet met.

    When Jenny first stepped inside the barn she was calm, but when she saw Shirley she became agitated. She reached through the stall toward Shirley, intensely focused on her. Shirley showed little interest but finally responded to Jenny’s attention by stepping close enough to be touched.

    Jenny’s agitation grew. She extended her trunk all the way through the bars, reaching out, touching, talking to Shirley. Shirley stood parallel to the corral allowing Jenny to touch all over her, but continued to show very little interest. Jenny began to work herself up into frenzy, very uncharacteristic behavior for her.

    Scott and I were sitting inside the barn only a few feet away, watching. I was filming.

    Jenny was animated and anxious; she wanted to get closer to Shirley. Shirley remained calm. But when Jenny placed her truck up to Shirley’s mouth, Shirley froze. Her posture changed, she became a little rigid and then turned to look at Jenny. She reached over to touch Jenny’s mouth and what followed was undefinably powerful and life changing for all present.

    Looking straight into Jenny’s eyes, Shirley erupted into a huge baritone roar. Caught completely off guard, I thought a bomb and an earthquake had simultaneously hit the barn. Her bellows ignited Jenny’s bellows, which together literally shook the barn.

    With her head held high and mouth gaping open, Shirley roared and gently touched all over Jenny’s smiling face. Jenny’s body immediately relaxed as she continued to grope and pull at Shirley through the bars and bellow. The volume of their shared roars was deafening.

    The energy in the barn was so intense I had to step outside the door to catch my breath. Seriously, I could not breathe. I did not yet fully understand what was happening. I had only seen such a display of emotion once before when a baby elephant at a breeding facility was separated from his mother for the first time. The two nearly killed themselves trying to climb over the corral to get back together. Their roars were one and the same with Jenny and Shirley’s.

    This memory flashed though my mind and within seconds I understood. Jenny and Shirley had known each other before and during that time had forged an intensely close relationship. This was a reunion.

    The powerfully joyful vocalizations continued for some time, with Jenny and Shirley groping each other all over. I cannot convey how thick the love was in the air. I was too caught up in the emotional exchange to register just how long this went on but it could have lasted close to 30 minutes.

    By the time the volume of their reunion subsided, Shirley was emitting short, sweet sighs and Jenny had melted into the steel bars that separated them, their trunks draped across each other faces.

    I knew I had just witnessed a miracle, the first of many that I would be privileged to witness in the years to come.

  • Bunny

    Bunny

    Bunny — what a sensitive and loving lady. It was a joy to bring her to the Sanctuary. Her immersion into the habitat and bonds with the other elephants exceeded even our wildest dreams. She made an immediate and complete transition into Sanctuary life. In fact, she was the first elephant to sleep under the stars and was responsible for her sisters beginning to sleep outdoors overnight as well.

    I spent five years working for Bunny’s release from the Mesker Park Zoo in Evansville, IN. The zoo had been her home for four decades. From the time my effort began, I placed a weekly phone call to the zoo to discuss Bunny and her possible relocation. Ron Young, the zoo director, and Ted Grannan, the assistant director, were gracious but firm: Bunny would never leave the zoo.

    They continued to accept my calls and humor my periodic visits, but their response to my interest in discussing Bunny’s relocation was a consistent no. I realized that these were kind and caring people. My goal was to familiarize them with the Sanctuary so they could understand what we had to offer to their beloved Bunny.

    On one of my many visits to the zoo, Bunny was having “play time” with her next-door neighbor Daisy, a hippo. They had lived in adjacent enclosures for four decades. On special occasions Daisy was allowed into Bunny’s yard for a visit. It was quite cute to watch, but sad to realize how these two had to rely on another very different species for companionship. Bunny gently herded Daisy around the yard, as much as one can herd a hippo, with Daisy paying little attention.

    My persistence began to pay off, but in a roundabout way. Ron soon began passing my phone calls off to Ted, who remained pleasant and engaging. He would listen patiently to my latest update and end the conversation with the zoo’s mantra, “Bunny will never leave the Mesker Park Zoo.”  My no-pressure-but-let-me-tell-you-this approach was sincere — and effective. We shared a common interest in Bunny’s welfare, which soon brought us closer together. My message began to get through and I saw that Ted was beginning to question the wisdom of their position.

    Until this time, I was told that Bunny could not be moved for a myriad of reasons, including that it would break her heart to leave the zoo. With stories about our other retirees as evidence to contradict that concern, Ron finally admitted that the idea simply could not be considered because the Association of Zoos and Aquariums (AZA) would not allow it.

    After years of open communication and education I was able to demonstrate that Bunny not only deserved to move to the Sanctuary but her very health depended on it. Her enclosure offered limited natural substrate and her pool had been empty for years. As result of years spent on the hard surfaces of her exhibit, Bunny had developed a chronic foot disease that could soon develop into osteomyilis. This captivity-induced disease is responsible for the deaths of nearly all adult captive Asian elephants living in zoos. Bunny was on her way to being yet another statistic but I knew that Sanctuary life could spare her such a fate.

    Bunny was surrounded by a loving staff, attentive veterinarian and adoring public. They began to grasp the gravity of Bunny’s condition and, ultimately, the people responsible for Bunny’s care, including Ron and Ted, became the champions for her release.

    On September 29, 1999, Bunny arrived at the Sanctuary. Her retirement was celebrated by two communities united by one deeply loved elephant.

  • Proposed elephant rides in Kentucky

    Tuesday I spoke at a Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife Resources (KDFWR) public hearing in opposition to the proposed amendment to state regulation 301KAR2:082. If this amendment passes, elephant rides will be allowed in the state of Kentucky for the first time since 2005.

    KDFWR representatives appeared receptive to the information I provided regarding elephant behavior, harsh trainer treatment and the risks the city accepts when allowing an inherently dangerous exotic animal to share common space with the public. If they grasp the immense risk elephant rides pose, they will surely oppose the amendment.

    What prompted the ban nearly seven years ago was an elephant attack at the Louisville zoo that left a man seriously injured. The elephant, Kenya, was privately owned and contracted by the zoo for elephant rides.

    The day of the attack Kenya was in an off-exhibit area with her trainer. It was standard practice for Kenya to wander around the enclosed area unchained. But while the trainer was distracted in another area of the enclosure, Kenya opened a gate and wandered out into the zoo.

    It was the end of the day and very few zoo visitors were present. A man saw Kenya and walked up to her. Reports indicate that he tried to control her, but she lashed out at him, inflicting serious injury.

    The incident resulted in lawsuits against the zoo, the city and Kenya’s owner. The man recovered and Kenya was not harmed.

    Following the attack, in recognition of the dangers posed by some species of wild and exotic animals, KDFWR banned public contact with a long list of inherently dangerous animals, including elephants.

    One supporter of the ban is the Primate Rescue Center, co-founded by April Truitt.  Many of the species that her organization rescues and protects are included in the ban.

    Currently KDFWR is being lobbied by the Kosair Shriners to amend the regulation and allow elephant rides. The Kosair Shriners continue to offer elephant rides at their annual circus fundraiser in defiance of the regulation. Their position at the meeting was that elephants are not dangerous, at least not the ones they hire.

    Lobbying to stop elephant rides does not guarantee better welfare for elephants but it does provide an opportunity to educate people about the inappropriateness of the activity.

    Send your comments to:

    Ms Rose Mack

    Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife Resources

    [email protected]

    (502) 564-5136 (Fax)

  • 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.