orionid

So I'm becoming disenfranchised with zoos. Don't get me wrong, I completely approve of the conservation work they do, especially the networking between zoos to repopulate endangered species. But the concept of a zoo makes me feel even worse every time I visit one.

Let me start by saying that none of this is a direct stab at the most recent zoo I visited, being the Portland Zoo earlier today. The zoo was a beautiful place, and aside from an out-of-place wild yellow ginger, I have nothing bad to say about it. I took a lot of awesome photos, and got shat on by a lorikeet as it was drinking nectar from my hand. That's an experience I never would have gotten anywhere else.

Next, let me explain where I'm coming from. I'm an educated country boy. It may sound like a contradiction, but I assure you we exist. I enjoy the outdoors. I enjoy hunting, and I believe that when regulated, the hunt is an important tool for conservation and wildlife management. I am neither a tree hugger nor an industrialist. I am simply a lover of the outdoors. Also, I have been incarcerated. I know what it's like to be penned up. I was provided adequate meals, nutrition, and both physical and mental exercise time. However, things were still missing: That feeling of freedom, the ability to move free reign, life. I was also a submariner for ten years. The isolation and living conditions a submariner is subjected to would be considered cruel and unusual by most prison standards.

I believe the zoo animals have it much worse than either one of prison inmates or submariners. Sure, the staff takes care of the animals. They are provided with square meals, nutritional supplements, play time, and so forth. But they are denied life.

The first thing I saw today was a mountain goat with dirty, shedding, unkempt fur, staring blankly into space. He was being harangued by an old lady wanting him to turn around so she could take a photo. Kids were rattling things to vie for his attention, and he simply stared. His gaze reminded me of the thousand-yard stare I have seen too many times from sailors returning from extended deployments to combat zones.

Secondly, I saw a pen of black bears. I have seen black bears in the wild. What I saw at the zoo was not the behavior of a black bear. One was pacing madly in front of an access door, probably in anticipation of a regular feeding time. Another was scratching his ear, repeatedly for nearly ten minutes. A third was pushing a stick back and forth with his left paw, not actually moving anywhere, just pushing a stick around. The fourth sat motionless, again exuding the thousand-yard stare.

The polar bears showed signs of boredom and lethargy as the male kept rearranging his blanket to block his view of curious onlookers. The female madly tried to break open a ball, obviously curious of its contents. Both were stained dark brown and had molts of fur. An educational sign pointed out that the natural range of a single polar bear covered hundreds of square miles.

Things like this went on all day. I felt like I was taking a tour of a prison where the inmates were placed on spectacle for the viewing public. I felt sick. I honestly felt as though I would prefer to spend time actually out in the wild for simply a chance of seeing one of these animals in it's natural habitat and behaviors rather than continue with what I was seeing.

I feel as though a little bit of my childhood is dying as I write this, but I think I am officially done with something I once loved. I do not believe I will be visiting a zoo again.