Gorillas in our midst – Part 2

Zoos of forty years ago did not have the same ethical standards they have today. I don’t know how the Toronto Zoo, for example, acquired 6 or more infant lowland gorillas in 1974, but I’ll bet they would handle it differently today. One clue about the origin of those gorillas might be found in the accounts of Dian Fossey’s 1983 book Gorillas in the Mist. Fossey rescued a young gorilla named Coco in early 1969 from an office in the nearby city of Ruhengeri, Rwanda. The baby had been captured with the sanction of the government, for delivery to the Cologne Zoo in Germany in exchange for a Land Rover vehicle and an unspecified amount of money. Fossey wrote in her book that “ten members of the gorilla group were killed in the capture [of Coco]”. A week later, another infant was brought to Fossey’s camp. This animal, which she named Pucker, “had come from a group of about eight animals and, like those of Coco’s group, all the family members had died trying to defend the youngster”. Both Coco and Pucker ended up going to the Cologne Zoo and died within a few months of each other less than 10 years later.

According to the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund International website, fewer than 900 mountain gorillas are left in the world today and the Grauer’s (eastern lowland) gorilla population is also endangered.  In fact, all gorilla habitats are threatened. The conservation activities of the Fossey Gorilla Fund take place on many levels and places, in Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo, in the United States, and around the world. In Rwanda, their Karisoke™ Research Center protects gorillas and cares for rescued gorillas in Parc National des Volcans. Their programs in the Congo include collaboration with rangers at Virunga National Park on the eastern border with Rwanda and with a network of community-managed reserves in a 42,000 square mile landscape further west that is the habitat of the lowland gorilla.

Founded by Fossey in 1978, the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund International is dedicated to the conservation and protection of gorillas and their habitats in Africa. The Board of Trustees is made up of environmental activists, celebrities, and (most interestingly) zoo directors. It is also interesting that this organization, which is keeping the Karisoke Research Center in operation and which raised more than $3 million in 2013 for the conservation of gorillas in Africa, does it all from an address at the Zoo in Atlanta, GA. In fact, if not for the work of zoos, this critical conservation work would not be happening and mountain gorillas might already be extinct. This is particularly ironic, given that Fossey wrote in her book that zoo gorillas are “exhibited simply for exhibition’s sake” and photographs of her beloved Coco and Pucker revealed “their depression … during the years of their confinement in the Cologne Zoo” – arguments that are still being made by animal rights activists today.

Dian Fossey was no supporter of zoos, which is understandable given the way zoos of the time treated her animals – both in captivity and in the wild. But Fossey could not have foreseen what zoos would become. For her, the zoo was a concrete cell with iron bars and a tire swing, not today’s family groups of gorillas living naturalistic areas, some of those areas measured in acres. And what would she make of the fact that without the involvement of zoos, her conservation efforts, and likely the gorillas themselves, would have long ago ceased to exist.

Given how much zoos have changed in forty years, I wonder what they will look like in another forty? I just hope gorillas are not extinct. Maybe we will have learned how to talk to them by then – although I am not sure that is a conversation I would be proud to have.

Gorillas in our midst – Part 1

Opening the crate of a newly arrived animal at the zoo is always a tense moment. You never know whether the animal will walk out calmly, refuse to come out at all, or come flying out like the human cannonball at the circus. That is why I was nervous and excited at the same time – I didn’t know what to expect. It was late evening and we had just returned to the zoo from the international terminal at the airport. The heavy bedding of wood shavings and straw was both comfortable to sit in and soothing in its scent of fresh pine, as I sat cross-legged in the twelve foot by twelve foot holding stall in the Toronto Zoo’s quarantine building. Our job that evening had been to pick up two wooden crates from an international flight at the airport, return to the zoo, and uncrate the animals. We were to give them some food and water and, if they appeared healthy, leave them for the night. The veterinarians would give them a thorough exam in the morning.

I had lifted the sliding door out of its track and laid it on top of the wooden crate and settled a few feet from the opening, peering into the darkness. My plan was to sit quietly and wait for the baby gorilla to emerge. Would he remain inside, walk out calmly, or jump out in a rage, biting and clawing everything (and everyone) in sight. The answer, as it turned out, would be a little bit of everything.

We sat staring at each other for a long time. His name was Joseph and he was settled with his back at the far end of the crate, looking at me without making direct eye contact. He was thirty pounds of black fur and dark eyes, clearly frightened and unsure of what to do next. As I was about to give up and leave him to explore after I left, he stirred and walked calmly out of the crate and into my lap. I wanted to comfort the little guy and welcome him to his new home. I knew he would be safe and well-cared-for with the best food, other gorillas for companionship, and modern veterinary care. It would be some time before I learned the real story of how gorillas came to be at the zoo. For now, I just wrapped my arms around him as I would one of my own sons.

We sat for a few seconds, with him in my lap facing away from me and then in slow motion, he placed his mouth over my bare, right forearm and bit down – hard. So hard, in fact, that I hollered in pain and jerked my arm away. I pushed him out of my lap as gently as I could under the painful circumstances and left the pen to examine my injury. The bite broke the skin slightly, leaving a bloody imprint of his upper and lower teeth like some dental impression. My worries about what diseases he might be carrying escalated ten days later, when he died. As it turned out, he had no transmissible diseases and obviously, I have survived with no ill effects.  Fortunately, this was long before we knew about the Ebola virus and the other deadly diseases coming out of Africa or I would have been well and truly freaked-out! ¹

The date was May 9^th, 1974 – 40 years ago today – and Joseph had arrived at the Toronto Zoo with Josephine, a young female of about the same age. I know of two other pairs of infant lowland gorillas that we received that year. How did these six baby gorillas from the wilds of Africa find themselves at a zoo in North America?  I don’t know for sure, but I have an idea that I’ll suggest next week in Part two.

[NOTE 1: An excerpt from my next book, In Search of Eden: A Quest for the Perfect Zoo]