© Zoocheck/Rob LaidlawOn August 10, I visited Bird Kingdom, Niagara Falls, Ontario with Rob Laidlaw of Zoocheck. Bird Kingdom is a zoo enclosed within a single building, much of it given over to aviaries filled with an un-themed assortment of bird species, predicated, it seems, on which birds were commercially available, compatible with other species, and did well in captivity. Educational material was minimal. And, of course, the long, fast flight you see macaws and cockatoos perform in the wild was not an option. But, in balance, for most of the bird species on display, it was an improvement over most zoos and had lots of greenery and enrichment.[teaserbreak]
And then, there was Sheldon.
Husbandry conditions for Bird Kingdom’s other animals—reptiles and a few amphibians—were like most zoos—inadequate. “Sheldon” was the name of an African spurred tortoise, also known as a sulcata tortoise, native to the transitional zone between sand desert and savannah across the southern Sahara Desert. The species excavates long burrows, and at times are very active.
The “educational” component of the display was meager and inaccurate. Food was listed as “salad, hay, tortoise pellets,” telling us nothing of what they eat in the wild, or how they adapt to the changing conditions of their environment, where alternating dry and wetter spells occur. It is not true that they are found in “South Africa,” as the sign said, or that the African spurred tortoise is the second largest tortoise species in the wild (it’s actually the third largest). Much more—and more accurate—information is available in libraries or online.
The three reasons most often given by the zoo community for imprisoning animals are conservation, education, and animal welfare. But, displaying these animals encourages the trade in them, and the exotic pet trade constitutes one a major threat to the survival of the species, alongside desertification. Limited information—and misinformation—hardly constitutes “education.”
As for welfare, during the forty minutes that we kept returning to his wood-sided pen, Sheldon paced up and down the length of the enclosure, as if trying to reach the leopard tortoise, a different species, in the adjoining pen. Sheldon would continually walk back and forth, and try in his clumsy, awkward way to push through the wooden board separating the two animals. He obviously had done it for a long while as the paint had become worn off the board (visible in the photos above), and he had worn a rut through what looked like a cedar chip covering of the floor.
This mindless back and forth repetitive behaviour so often seen in confined zoo animals is called “stereotypic” behavior, and is widely seen as a sign of stress. But, beyond my sympathy for this tortoise was my disappointment that of all the visitors who looked at Sheldon, only Rob and I seemed to notice, or care, about his plight.
Maybe, in the interest of “education,” a sign should be posted explaining stereotypic behavior and why it should not happen.
Keep Wildlife in the Wild,
Barry