Notes From the Zookeeper: Help!

Dear Mom,

I want to go home. I’m currently seven hours south of the ole homestead at the Turtle Survival Alliance conference in South Carolina. I get to spend the next three days learning all about countless species from experts the world over. Turtles? Yes. Studying up on them? Absolutely! School’s my jam! At a conference where I do not know a soul?  (insert needle-scratch) Ummm. People? I don’t do the whole human thing very well. I am shy, a little weird, and I have the social skilz of an octopus, minus the tentacles. Did I have tentacles when I was born, Mom?

This is me. Trying to blend in, or maybe just outright hide. My Patronus is an octopus.

I stepped out of the car into a city that smells of an odd mix of excrement and brackish water, and I was ready to turn around and go home. The brackish water I get. I’m right here on the coast. But poop? Why? Why the poop? I do not understand! I’m in the heart of the historical district. Is it historical poop? Maybe?

The hotel is a shack. Three room suites, valet parking, a mezzanine, thick walls where I can’t hear the neighbors scratching their bed bugs, maybe not even bed bugs. A shack. I will suffer through. But one of the bars of soap was already wet when I opened it, and that creeps me out more than a little. And everything from the soap to the lotion smells exactly the same.

Our opening event was at the South Carolina Aquarium. I had never been. It was all kinds of amazing. Let me show you.

There’s, like, this whole ocean and stuff!

I did make two friends right off the bat, Mom. Want to meet them?

And there were other cool things.

I found a drug store on my way back to the hotel, and I thought I should get some snacks because food is WAY too expensive here. $12 for hotel breakfast is way more than I want to spend. But I am a jinx, and as I was buying my stuff, the entire computer system shut down, and I had to stand at the register making awkward small talk with the cashier and manager for ten minutes. Ten long, painful, awful minutes.  Come and get me.

The TV is broken. At least the one in my bedroom is, and I don’t want to go to the living room. That’s too much trouble. I mean, the TV comes on, but it only gets crappy channels. There were these two pink people who were walking through the jungle. Did I mention they were nekkid? Why were they nekkid? I go hiking all the time, but always with my clothes on. Don’t these people know there are insects and other things you don’t want close to the tender parts? Am I missing something?

The alarm went off, and I’m still typing my letter. But I will get out of bed. I will. Eventually. I can do this, Mom. I can learn good stuff and make new friends and eat all my snacks so I’m not spending a billion dollars on breakfasts. I can do this. I can.

On second thought… there are two beds here. I should go try out the other one.

 

 

 

Come In For the Cute, Hang Around to Save a Species

Introducing Astrochelys radiata- the second one ever hatched by our zoo

Introducing Astrochelys radiata- the second one ever hatched by our zoo

See? Cute! Now, keep reading. You have the power to help save these guys.

Chances are, you didn’t know that sports could help save a critically endangered species. When we hear about an animal rapidly becoming extinct, our first thought is to wonder what we can do about it. Sometimes, there’s not a simple answer. Take the Radiated Tortoise, for example.

Astrochelys radiata, endemic to the island of Madagascar, is experiencing a dizzying population decline. In the last 10 years, numbers in the wild are thought to have dropped by half. The animals are being collected illegally for both the pet trade and for human consumption. This video explains  that the tortoises are not being consumed by those who are starving; they are a luxury item on restaurant menus in other parts of the world.  The assistance of local villagers is critical to saving this species, but there’s a catch.

In the villages around the spiny forests where these tortoises live, it is taboo to touch one of these animals or even to look at them. They believe that Radiated Tortoises are the reincarnation of their ancestors, and though they are not directly involved in the poaching, neither have they been in a position to stop it. This is changing. Through partnership with the Turtle Survival Alliance (go ahead – click the link and sign up for their free newsletter. It’s fascinating! Even better, go join!) villagers are beginning to take an active role in the survival of this species. TSA has helped build schools for villages who agree to help the tortoises. And now there’s a new opportunity.

Utah’s Hogle Zoo, in  partnership with Turtle Survival Alliance and Conservation Fusion, have come up with a wonderful and positive way to help both tortoises and kids. Through the Give Balls program, this partnership hopes to donate 250 One World Futbols, a ball that is designed specifically for the rugged terrain of rural villages and never deflates or needs pumping, to 10 villages in southern Madagascar. Through donation of the balls and other sports equipment, in addition to environmental education, it is hoped that the village youth will be inspired and empowered to protect the species that is sacred to them.

To donate a ball for $25, click here. There’s even a fun option to buy one, give one for only $39. For every ball donated, One World Futbol will donate an additional $5 to purchase uniforms and other equipment for the villages.

If you can’t donate at this time, you can still help. Share this post, or even write one of your own, to help raise awareness of this fabulous program. I know everyone’s dumping ice over their heads right now, but I think we can share the donation love a little. A goal of 250 balls is a modest one. Let’s help Hogle Zoo blow this goal out of the water!

Help kids to be kids while at the same time helping to save a species.

 

If the links don’t work, try clicking here. http://www.oneworldfutbol.com/campaigns/hogle-zoo or pasting it in your browser.