if this had not been a government worker the person probably would have been arrested and charged with cruelity to animals. Original Article Phoenix Zoo not only one under fire Criticisms focus on animal care Dennis Wagner The Arizona Republic Jun. 3, 2005 12:00 AM A few years ago when Tinkerbell the porcupine wasn't performing well during educational shows at the Phoenix Zoo, keepers decided to reduce her diet. They didn't want to hurt the little pincushion, just give her some incentive. But it's hard to tell when a porcupine gets skinny. Tinkerbell died of starvation. And the incident is one of many listed by whistle-blowers who recently warned of a crisis in wildlife care at the 125-acre exhibition. The furor forced Arizona Zoological Society directors to commission a review by independent experts, whose report is being reviewed this week. It also prompted an investigation by U.S. Department of Agriculture inspectors who enforce the nation's Animal Welfare Act. But the Phoenix Zoo is hardly alone in its turmoil. During the past three years, wildlife menageries and aquariums across the nation have come under fire based on sometimes-debatable allegations of neglect and mismanagement. Investigations stretched from the historic National Zoo in Washington, D.C., to a wolf sanctuary in Washington state. Controversy also hit animal exhibitions in Chicago, San Francisco, Detroit, Toledo, Topeka and other cities. What's going on? The question itself prompts a heated crossfire between zoo defenders and animal rights activists. "This kind of issue has come up over and over again," says Richard Farinato, director of captive wildlife programs for the Humane Society of the United States. "Zoos should be for animals. Unfortunately, most of the time they're for people." Jane Ballentine, a spokeswoman for the Maryland-based non-profit American Zoo and Aquarium Association, answers that wildlife parks are being victimized by "animal rights extremists" and "sensationalist media" even though they are cleaner, safer and more humane than ever before. Humbug, counters Debbie Leahy, director of PETA, or People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, which opposes zoos entirely. She says those who cage wild animals are catching heat because "the national consciousness has been collectively raised." "This is probably just the tip of the iceberg because this is a very poorly regulated industry," Leahy adds. Law of nature Jeffrey Hyson, a historian at Saint Joseph's University in Philadelphia who is writing a book on American zoo culture, says evolving social values have collided in America's zoos. Animal rights activists are more aggressive. Media scrutiny has intensified. Modern zoos, trying to capture public imagination and dollars, cultivate a "Garden of Paradise" image that promotes animals as lovable, anthropomorphic stars, what he calls "charismatic megafauna." "I think it's a combination of greater public attention and higher expectations," Hyson explains. "They do naming contests. They throw birthday parties for the animals. Well, when those creatures die . . . " In some cases, the external pressures are compounded by feuding within animal parks, where zookeepers, veterinarians and marketers get crosswise about wildlife care and philosophy. Ruby, Arizona's artistic elephant, was a typical example. The Phoenix Zoo promoted its paintbrush-wielding pachyderm to worldwide celebrity before her death in 1998, a misfortune blamed on complications during the delivery of a calf. Seven years later, the zoo still runs an Internet site dedicated to Ruby's memory and fends off complaints that her pregnancy and birthing were botched. Denny Lewis, who directs accreditations for the American Zoo and Aquarium Association, says the public needs to understand that mortality is an immutable law of nature in the wild or captivity and not a cause for finger-pointing. "Animals die," Lewis says flatly. "Most of the time it's because of old age or sickness, just like with human beings." That point is uncontested. But so is the notion that American zoos have endured a particularly unlucky streak of fatalities among marquee animals. A pair of red pandas at the National Zoo perished after rat poison was placed in their compound. Captive-elephants deaths have forced several zoos to shut down pachyderm displays. And, just last month at Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago, a small gibbon broke its arm trying to reach through a fence for food. Vets removed the limb, purportedly because of fears that the animal would injure itself with a cast. The zoo already was a target of demonstrations due to other animal deaths: two gorillas, a camel, three elephants and a trio of endangered langur monkeys. After the ape amputation, state prosecutors announced a criminal inquiry. PETA protested. USDA inspectors and the zoo association launched reviews. Kelly McGrath, who handles Lincoln Park Zoo's public relations, welcomes scrutiny as long as it's fair. For example, she says, the gibbon would have died of gangrene if its arm was not cut off, so that's "a success story." As for deceased wildlife, McGrath adds, scientific fact belies sentiment: "Animal deaths that are looked at as a pattern are not. There was absolutely no error in any of those" that have been investigated to date. For sheer hype, the National Zoo calamity two years ago exceeded all others. It wasn't just poisoned pandas. Zebras succumbed to hypothermia and starvation. Animal cages and enclosures were infested with rats. A lion died after being anesthetized. Congress commissioned a study by the National Academy of Sciences. Reforms were imposed. The zoo's director was forced out. Ballentine, the zoo association spokeswoman, says the chain of events has become as familiar as it is regrettable, in part due to anti-zoo organizations such as PETA, which is based in Virginia. When animals expire, critics may cast blame whether the death is natural or not. "They are becoming a lot more vocal. It's very emotional," Ballentine says. "It plays on the heartstrings of people who love animals. And they always have an Internet link where you can send contributions." "I don't know of a single case where someone intentionally harmed an animal in an accredited zoo," Lewis adds. Since the first wild animals were captured for zoological show about 4,000 years ago in Mesopotamia, zoos have evolved like the creatures that inhabit them. Over time, exotic wildlife were gathered as a symbol of wealth, forced into combat, shown for profit and entertainment. Today's zoos, which generally provide better care and conditions than ever before, emphasize wildlife conservation and public education as primary functions. In his book, Savages and Beasts: The Birth of the Modern Zoo, historian Nigel Rothfels says the central point of animal exhibits remains constant: "This type of exhibit was designed for the pleasure of the public, not the animals." The zoo association now estimates that American zoos and aquariums draw 134 million human visitors annually, more than major-league football, baseball and basketball combined. The menageries are inspected by the USDA, licensed by the Fish and Wildlife Service and regulated by local government agencies. They are watched by the Humane Society, PETA and millions of devotees. During the past year alone, U.S. newspapers and magazines published hundreds of articles about zoo controversies. Although defenders insist that America's captive animals are healthier and happier than ever, nobody seems to have supporting numbers. At the USDA, spokesman Darby Holladay says his agency conducts annual inspections at all licensed wildlife exhibits but doesn't keep a tally of complaints or violations. The zoo association has 211 member organizations (four in Arizona) caring for about 800,000 animals. The association examines about 50 zoos and aquariums each year. One or two fail to get accreditation. About 2,200 other exhibitors, reptile farms and roadside shows, don't even try. Cats and dogs Despite complaints about activists and the media, some zoo scandals start with internal squabbling rather than outside criticism. Put simply, veterinarians and animal caretakers can fight like cats and dogs over what's best for the beasts. At the Phoenix Zoo, that sort of feuding played a significant role in Ruby the elephant's demise. Keepers accused a veterinarian of negligence. Investigators later exonerated the vet and concluded that Ruby had been bred against the advice of medical experts and was obese because keepers ignored orders from the nutritionist. The backbiting among employees grew so fierce that, last year, zoo President Jeff Williamson says he had to replace the top curator and the chief veterinarian. That move, in turn, led to allegations that animals were suffering and dying unnecessarily. Kris Nelson, a volunteer on the zoo committee that reviews animal health issues, was upset about the chief vet's dismissal. Last month, she went public with details of about 30 incidents where she claims wildlife suffered from improper care or living conditions. Nelson's list includes the stories of Tinkerbell and Ruby. It also describes an orangutan, Duchess, who purportedly showed symptoms of extreme thirst but was not examined until she began drinking her own urine. And it claims several baby squirrel monkeys died because they were weakened by hunger and fell on concrete. Nelson, a Scottsdale veterinarian, warned that the menagerie in Phoenix is verging on a disaster. Others at the zoo disagree, rebutting each of her allegations as inaccurate or exaggerated. But administrators refused to release necropsies. Holladay, the USDA spokesman, confirmed that a Phoenix Zoo investigation is under way, though he declined to provide details. The Arizona Zoological Society's board, which oversees zoo operations, is watching and waiting. A report from outside experts is due this week, and board President Ed Fox, while characterizing Nelson's complaints as "misguided," vowed to press for reforms if problems are exposed. As in Chicago and elsewhere, zoo officials find themselves being observed carefully now, much like the animals they have on display. "To some degree we are victims of our own success," says McGrath, the Lincoln Park spokeswoman. "Zoos have raised public awareness of wildlife. And that's a good thing."