Of Goats and Cheetahs

It’s weird to think that my favorite memory of my time at Cheetah Conservation Fund in Namibia is the model farm. It’s not like I’ve never been to a farm or that this farm was particularly spectacular. It was really just a big dirt pen, a couple of ranch hands, a dog, and a lot of goats and sheep. But it was a beautiful, clear day and we got to spend it outside, and who doesn’t love farm animals?

I love farm animals but they don't always love me.

Though it might seem odd that a cheetah conservation organization has a farm in the first place, the farm has an incredibly important function. Without a working farm, any recommendations made by CCF staff to Namibian farmers would not come from a place of experience (and would sound downright preachy) and would likely be ignored. How would you react if some foreigner came to your house and told you to change your way of life to protect a pest animal they seem to care too much about?

Fortunately, the CCF team, led by Dr. Laurie Marker, figured that wasn’t going to work. Their model farm is the solution, allowing the organization to show farmers that predator-friendly livestock management techniques work - a farmer that isn’t losing livestock is less likely to kill cheetahs either in retaliation or as a preventative measure.

These had very thick tails that provided extra fat reserves.

Farmers vs cheetahs
At CCF we learned that there’s often a lack of education among farmers regarding proper livestock management and cheetah behavior. This is especially important because 90% of Namibia’s cheetahs live on farmland (Marker, Mills, & MacDonald, 2003). Cheetahs also hunt during the day, so they’re more visible and blamed for livestock deaths more often. If a farmer is losing livestock to predators and all he sees are cheetahs, killing them seems the most obvious way to protect his flock and investment (Nattrass & Conradie, 2018).

With the model farm, CCF can physically show why that’s not a viable long-term solution. Further, they provide in-person farmer training and education on predator-friendly livestock management techniques and cheetah behavior. Cheetahs, it turns out, prefer to eat wild game than livestock (Boast et al., 2016). It’s more likely that livestock were killed by other predators, but farmers don’t see this because it happens at night when livestock are free to roam.

Part of farmer education: Who killed my goat? Fake dead goats demonstrate what predation by different species looks like.

Predator-friendly livestock management techniques
So what does the CCF farm do differently? First, they bring their livestock in at night. Leaving goats and sheep out in the field overnight is an invitation to an easy meal for any predator on the property. Second, pregnant, sick, injured, and young livestock are left in the kraal (fenced area) during the day. Any member of the flock that can’t keep up is a prime target for a predator, so keeping them protected lets them live to see another day. Third, a rancher is with the flock during the day. Having a rancher physically present in the field reduces the number of livestock lost to predators (Nattrass & Conradie, 2018). Fourth, the flock is accompanied by a guard dog - usually an Anatolian shepherd that was raised with the flock. This big dog is a big deterrent for predators (I’ve heard that booming bark and it is to be feared), especially for smaller livestock like goats (van Eeden et al., 2017). 

A rancher, a dog, and a flock of sheep and goats out grazing on a Namibian farm.

But why would farmers want cheetahs on their properties anyway? It goes back to cheetahs having a preference for wild game. A healthy cheetah population means wild game numbers are kept in check, ensuring enough grazing for everyone. Overgrazing leads to a lack of food for both livestock and wild game: if there isn’t enough wild prey the predators may turn to livestock. Overgrazing also allows an aggressive thorny bush to take over - reducing the amount of usable space on the farm. Plus, many farmers are turning towards eco-tourism activities to make extra money, and wild cheetahs are a huge draw.

All of these activities directly increase the amount of money a farmer can make from his property, ensuring survival of cheetahs. If farmers aren’t killing cheetahs on their properties, cheetah populations can grow and the ecosystem can maintain its balance. A major theme of my time at CCF (succinctly stated by CCF Farms Manager Johan Britz) was “if it pays it stays” and that holds true for any animal on Namibian farmland.

Citations:

Boast, L., Houser, A., Horgan, J., Reeves, H., Phale, P., & Klein, R. (2016). Prey preferences of free-ranging cheetah on farmland: Scat analysis versus farmers’ perceptions. African Journal of Ecology, 54, 424-433.

Marker, L., Mills, M., & MacDonald, D. (2003). Factors influencing perceptions of conflict and tolerance toward cheetahs on Namibian farmlands. Conservation Biology, 17(5), 1,290-1,298.

Nattrass, N., & Conradie, B. (2018). Predators, livestock losses, and poison in the South African Karoo. Journal of Cleaner Production, 194, 777-785. 

van Eeden, L., Crowther, M., Dickman, C., Macdonald, D., Ripple, W., Ritchie, E., & Newsome, T. (2017). Managing conflict between large carnivores and livestock. Conservation Biology, 32(1), 26-34.

Living in Sin

In less than 10 hours I'll be picking up a U-Haul, filling two adult-who-has-lived-alone-apartments of stuff, and depositing it all in one place. After a year spending pretty much every night together, a year spending every night together, and a few weeks of can-the-cat-and-I-live-with-you-while-my-apartment-is-a-plumber's-nightmare, the boyfriend and I are moving in together. Officially.

The subject of moving in together came up around month 8 of our relationship (move in day, tomorrow, marks month 25). My roommate had just let it slip that he would eventually be moving in with her boyfriend (or was he fiancé by then?), not in San Diego. Being the ever eager apartment hunter I am, I was browsing craigslist one night when the boyfriend looked over my shoulder and said, "you know, you could just move in with me."

It wasn't a total shock. As far as having the major conversations went, we'd established that the future was real pretty much right away. But at less than a year of dating I could only imagine trying to explain that one to family. Plus, there were other reasons I didn't want to move in to his place, the main one being that when I lived with a boyfriend I wanted it to be a place we got together, that didn't previously belong to either of us. We spent the next year discussing this. The biggest hurdle was the boyfriend doesn't rent - he joint owns his place, so it wasn't going to be as simple as giving a 30-day notice and there were two others who had a say in things.

One day a few months ago we decided we've move in together in the fall, after wedding season is over for photographer boyfriend and the weather cools down a bit. Plus, it would be great to be looking after the new students were settled so we wouldn't have competition. But then my apartment exploded, and I pretty much moved myself and the cat in with the boyfriend and the dog, so we decided to start looking. I don't think either of us were expecting to find a place we loved so quickly, but we jumped on it. And tomorrow we get to call it home.

Unfortunately for us, the weather not only has not cooled down at all, it's hotter than ever. Our "relief" that the weather stations have been talking about is a measly 2-3 degrees, which is still in the 80s. Fortunately for us, since I've been pretty much living at his place for the last few weeks, the cat and dog are learning to co-exist. Chloe accidentally occupies a space close to Argo on occasion, but rather than immediately hissing and running away like she used to, she's been hanging out, if only for a few minutes. Chloe is a pro at moving and adjusts almost immediately to a new home, but this will be Argo's first move. Tomorrow will be an interesting day!

One Is Not Like The Other: Part 3

Kids are not animals. Or property.

Doggies!

The boyfriend and I took the dog to the dog park in Balboa Park on the first day of the year (happy new year!) and boy was it packed. There were dozens of dogs of all sizes and even more people wandering around. There were balls being thrown and caught, games of chase being played, and everyone - dog and person - was in a good mood. 

The boyfriend and I couldn't help laughing at the dogs standing around us: a great dane puppy who took a liking to Argo, little fuzzy somethings running around and yapping, pretty collies pausing mid-air catching a ball. We talked about our weird relationship with these animals, and wondered to ourselves how anyone could not love a dog. Which is the same thing some people wonder when we say we don't want kids. 

But how could anyone not want kids? What will you do with your lives without kids? How will you spend your money and your time without kids? How will you spend your evenings at home without kids? 

But you could replace the word kids in each of those questions with the word dogs. And I'm positive I'll be a million times happier. 

Look how happy and excited they are for a tiny treat!

Here are some differences between kids an dogs:

• I can pick out my dog. I can't pick out my kid.
• I don't have to get pregnant and fat to get a dog and it will cost waaaaaaay less to adopt a dog than a kid.
• The baby stage for puppies is a lot shorter and I can get to the good stuff way quicker.
• Dogs can be trained much faster and more effectively than kids.
• Dogs don't go to college. Or ask for cars. But they do drive! 
• A dog will always be happy to see me. A kid will sometimes be happy to see me.
• I can leave my dog with a sitter and go on vacation without hearing "you never take me anywhere - I hate you!"
• A dog will go running with me, happily. I don't know that a kid will want to once it's old enough to keep up. And if it does it will likely outpace me.

At least she can't verbalize her hatred for me.

Here are some reasons why I highly, highly doubt my thoughts on kids will change:

• When I see pictures of new babies, or see new babies in person, my thought is "oh, that's nice," or "that's a baby," or "I know I'm supposed to express happiness for you, but that's a weird looking kid." (I'm all ooohs and aahhs when it's baby animal pictures.)
• I know I'm going to be a big grumpy pants for 9 months if I get pregnant. And then again for the first several months to the first years of my baby's life.
• Babies smell. And not in a good way. And baby powder is gross.
• I've been around dogs and cats (and rats and rabbits and birds) long enough to know when something's wrong, and I know to trust the vet if it gets to that point. I wouldn't know why a baby just sits there and cries. All. God. Damn. Night. (I had colic... I can only imagine my mother's sanity.)
• I get cranky when I'm tired and hungry and parents are frequently tired and hungry.
• Having a house full of small dogs all trying their not-hardest to get along was not frustrating. Sleeping with the boyfriend and a dog and a cat in a small bed was a little frustrating. But if the house had been full of small children and we couldn't sleep because there was a crying baby I'd have had so much more alcohol.
• My wonderful boyfriend is on board with the dog train, but not on board with the baby train.

But what if I change my mind? Well, since the rest of the world is convinced that will happen within 3 years, I'll address that: 

1. If I do suddenly change my mind and decide I absolutely have to have children, I hope someone asks me if that's what I really, really want. Having gone so many years not wanting children, wouldn't it be a little weird to suddenly change my mind and want an entirely different lifestyle?  It would be like someone wanting their whole lives to go on missionary assignments around the world then suddenly changing their mind at 30 and taking a desk job in finance.
2. If I am to suddenly change my mind I hope that happens before I marry someone who doesn't want kids. Otherwise hello divorce. 
3. To address the scenario that I unintentionally become pregnant and can't bring myself to abort or give it up for adoption (because seriously... foster care?), that's my choice and one I would hope my partner would agree with. However, this doesn't change the fact that I will spend the rest of my childbearing years trying my damndest to not become pregnant in the first place.

For funzies, here is Part 1 and Part 2.

Paying Attention To Ads

Actual Facebook ad on my profile

If I were to pay attention to all the ads that are tailored for me (though their methods for "tailoring" are total crap) I would feel the need to change everything about myself.

I signed up for the LivingSocial and Groupon emails, and also now get emails from Amazon and Amazon Local. My morning inbox gets crowded, and my trash box must be overflowing. The vast, vast majority of those deals are about beauty and weight loss. Body wraps, eyelash extensions, gym memberships, bootcamp classes, hair coloring, liposuction, and so on. Occasionally dental services, which I'm actually interested in, but still many of them focus more on whitening than teeth health. A quite small portion of these ads are for fun events (some runs, even), restaurants, or services and those are the reason I'm even signed up for these promotions.

Then, if I were to listen to Facebook I should be picking out my engagement ring and bridesmaids dresses. Having used Facebook ads for work before, the engagement ring ads I see must target a very wide audience, the requirements being only that the target individual is female and in a relationship. Since I don't include my age or my anniversary date with my boyfriend on Facebook, these advertisers must only be going off the two bits of information I provide them with. I've experienced this with Facebook before, and have dealt with ads that were promoting fertility (along with engagement rings) the last time I was in a relationship and then ads offering help on getting a man when I was single. It seems that no matter what I can't just be happy with the way things are; I always have to be wanting something more. Thank goodness I have Facebook!

Oh, they also have access to my likes and interests. I have a lot of environmental organizations that I like and very frequently post about animals or conservation, so the majority of these engagement ring ads are trying to sell me an eco-friendly diamond engagement ring. Now, I don't know a whole lot about the eco-friendly ring or even the diamond ring industries, but I know how diamonds are mined (think big gaping holes in the earth), leading me to think "eco-friendly diamond ring" sounds a whole lot like "clean coal." It's an oxymoron. I'm sure that makes a lot of women feel great about their rocks, or will convince them to even pay more for them. I'm also thinking that eco-friendly or conflict-free diamond rings are the result of the whole green movement in general, and I imagine rings are more subject to being "green washed" than things like tea and soap.

Even if a ring is "conflict-free" or "as-eco-friendly-as-a-diamond-ring-can-get", the fact remains that the majority of the world's diamonds come from the same place and pass through the hands of one company (which, to be fair, has decreased from 80% of the world production and market to less than 50% in recent years) and diamonds were one of the reasons there was so much war and death in the Congo (which hasn't stopped yet). Diamond mining and production caused a whole lot of other environmental problems, namely the destruction of habitat for war and the extinction or near extinction of many species. Thanks at least in part to the diamond ring industry, the Congolese people are literally fighting for survival and do anything to stay alive today, thinking nothing of depleting resources for tomorrow, which includes killing endangered animals and destroying habitat and mining the earth for pretty rocks.

End tangent, back to the ads: these ring ads are even pushing the get engaged now timeline without knowing (or caring about) the length of time I've been in a relationship, by telling me I can view rings on my phone, order, and then go pick it up in the store with my fiancé. How romantic. Although it wouldn't surprise me to know that people get engaged that way. I know most women want diamond rings and most women want to love their rings, which makes sense considering you plan to wear it for the rest of your life, but to not trust that the love of your life can pick one out that you'd like seems a little sketchy. My sister had the unfortunate experience to go through an engagement she didn't want with the ugliest ring I'd ever seen, in a style she said she explicitly told the guy she didn't want (red flag!), so I get wanting to make sure your ring is something you like. But having it all picked out and telling your man to go pay for it and then give it to you seems to take all the fun and surprise out of it. Ideally (and maybe this is my problem), you'd be with someone long enough for him to get a sense of your style and what you'd like and if he was still having problems he'd feel comfortable enough asking a friend or close relative for help. But what do I know... the idea of diamonds in general isn't exactly appealing to me. It would be difficult to look at something every day and wonder where it came from; even if I were to get an eco-friendly diamond I'd mistrust it and would be more inclined to think the eco-friendly part was more marketing ploy than actual truth. And I don't know if that's something worth wearing every day, much less spending thousands of dollars on it to do so.

Luckily for me, I have a pretty decent body image, generally high self esteem, and am quite pleased with the relationship I'm in, so getting emails for body "enhancements" and seeing constant ads for tying the knot don't phase me too much. Admittedly, they annoy me enough to write a whole post on it, but clearly I've done it before.

Three Years of Blogging

I started this blog 3 years ago today (under a different name for a few days, until I settled on this) as a way to keep me focused and sharp during what would become a 3 month period of unemployment. There's certainly been a lot that's happened and changed in three years:


Got 2 jobs at the Wild Animal Park
Broke up with my long term boyfriend
Seriously doubted my faith
Collected unemployment insurance
Moved out of my wonderful studio
Changed my phone number
Lived with a friend
Lived with a crazy person
Had an amazing summer
Started running, seriously
Reevaluated my meat eating habits
Dated a friend, then ended the friendship
Used my Class B license for a job
Made a bunch of international friends
Had a shitty year
Said goodbye to a dog
Read a bunch of books
Remembered why I love living in San Diego
Was more or less dumped in favor of cocaine
Was more or less disowned by my father
Found a great roommate and a great apartment
Learned to love North Park
Got a writing job
Rediscovered my real passion
Celebrated 2 cousin's weddings
Ran 3 half marathons in 2 states
Made real friendships
Lost fake friendships
Fell deeply in love with a real friend
Traveled to San Francisco and Las Vegas
Sold a car
Bought a car
Started a new blog


This year has been amazing so far and the vast majority of last year was, too. I fully intend on enjoying the rest of it as much as I possibly can. Imagining what the next three years might hold is pretty exciting, too, especially (and this is where I get to be a girl) when I think about the amazing times in store with my boyfriend at my side. There's one thing that will always be certain in my life, in the next 3 years an beyond, and that is that I will always be writing. 

One Is Not Like The Other: Part 1

This is what's wrong.

Let's get this straight right at the beginning: animal activism does not equal veganism.

Surprisingly, it is actually possible to eat meat and animal products and still support animal rights and welfare. I know, right? Now, this will involve educating yourself on your meat and animal choices and reevaluating where your food comes from and exactly how far you're willing to go to meet yourself in the middle. But it's really not hard, especially if animal activism is important to you.

Up until my preteen years I was an avid meat eater. In a way I identified with predators (my cat and dog, the hawks and owls I watched around my house, even the way my rat ate bugs), and meat was tasty. Especially sausage. Mmmmm, sausage. My tastes have changed over the years and although I eat very limited amounts of meat now I don't like the notion that you have to be vegan in order to support animal welfare.

I come across websites that imply (or outright state) that the only way to be a real animal activist is to adopt a vegan lifestyle. While I fully support those who are vegan and sometimes wish I had the courage and tastebuds there's just no way I could do that. And that's because I love cheese. Cream cheese with salsa or cottage cheese and tomatoes for breakfast, potatoes with eggs and cheddar in a burrito, mozzarella with tomatoes and basil, grilled cheese sandwiches, pepper jack or gouda with crackers and apple slices, rice and beans with cheese... I love cheese. The only meatless things I can order when eating out have cheese. And I'm OK with that.

But here's the thing: I love animals. Animals will always be around, and not having a pet in 2008 was the most depressing time in my life. Seeing wildlife every day at the Wild Animal Park made my year in 2009, I vote for animal rights when they're on the ballot. I make choices based on how it will affect animals and their environments and choose the meats I do eat carefully. But I also love food. Like, really love food. Cooking, creating new dishes, sharing food with people, grocery shopping, and eating. I love eating. I will never be one of those skinny twigs because I love food. 

Probably 90% of my grocery shopping is done at Trader Joe's and Sprouts, which is about as local as it can get without going to a farmer's market (which is great, just a bit out of my budget for most things). I support local hunting and fishing and don't believe that eating animals is inherently wrong. It's the way we get our meat that's wrong, but that's in another post. It's also the idea that we must be eating meat for our meal to be "real"or for us to be healthy that's wrong.

Eating meat does not make a person an opponent of animal welfare just like not eating meat does not make a person a supporter of animal welfare. There are plenty of people who eat meat and support animal rights, people who want to see the way our animals are raised change, people who acknowledge their place as an omnivore who also believe animals we eat deserve a better quality of life and death. Suggesting otherwise is a little closed minded.

Not So Mysterious Anymore

Remember several months ago there were whole flocks of birds literally falling dead from the sky? It was happening all over the United States though it concentrated in the South and East. Birds fell from the sky for several months last year and experts blamed a wide range of causes, from extreme weather to unusually loud noises to disturbances like fireworks. But the results of necropsies were inconclusive and at the time of publication for some of the articles chemical testing hadn't come back yet.

Now the answer may be a little more dark than a few flukes... it turns out a project called Bye Bye Blackbird is responsible for the deaths of many of these birds. The project is headed by the USDA and they are poisoning millions of black birds and other bird species across our country's agricultural center, from South Dakota to Arkansas to Maryland. Birds are being killed because they're eating grain and other crops from farmers. The birds then fly to other cities where they die by the hundreds and thousands, and take down birds of prey and other predatory animals who happen to eat these poisoned birds. The USDA disrupts the whole food chain and kills many, many more animals than it intends with these bird massacres. Unless the USDA is incredibly crafty and completely evil and purposely poisons black birds, knowing they'll be eaten by many other animals we call pests...

The coolest part? All these animals are being killed with our taxes.

The weird thing is there are also unexplained bird and fish deaths in Europe. Can the USDA have a hold on those animals, too? Are officials in Europe doing something similar? Are the people in this world really resorting to this blatant massacre of animals without even trying less lethal methods? Will we always be at war with the animals who were here before us, who are doing what they've always done, just because we're here now? Will we never think to use methods that allow us to coexist?

Palm Oil Invasion

Wish I had my photos... I could show you a lady I know.

Right before bed last night I read an article about palm oil. In addition to the damaging effects I knew about (deforestation, rampant species extinction, encouraging poverty), the article describes how is encourages child labor and slavery. For many months I've been reading the ingredient list on all of the packaged or processed foods I buy (which actually isn't very much) looking for palm oil and palm kernel oil. Turns out I should be looking at the products in my shower, too.

Sodium laureth sulfate is an ingredient in many shampoos and body washes. I recognize this ingredient because for the last two years I've wondered if it's a contributing factor to having irritated skin in certain areas and have been trying to find shampoos that are both cruelty-free and sodium lareth sulfate free. Know how hard that is? I checked the bottles in my shower this morning, including my beloved St. Ives Oatmeal and Shea body wash and Apricot face scrub, and lo and behold SLS. I honestly woke up saddened at the realization that SLS is in fucking everything and then got even more sad as I discovered the ingredient in products I've loved for years. For most of the day I felt a sort of helpless. I really try to make environmentally conscious decisions every day: how many paper towels I use when I dry my hands at work, running errands close to work or home so I'm not driving out of my way and wasting gas, making sure the lights are turned off, turning off my fan every morning... yet by buying products I thought were good for me and good for the Earth I'm actually contributing to loss of forests and the extinction of species.

But this story isn't all bad. On my way home from work I stopped at Sprouts to pick up some groceries and my face lotion. While I was there I figured I was in a good place to check out body products that meet my standards. Turns out Sprouts is a very good place for that! There's a great variety of brands that are within my price range, have the leaping bunny logo, and even many that are sodium laureth sulfate free. I understand my price range for these products is significantly higher than most people's but for what I'm getting I think it's worth it. Knowing the things I use on my body aren't tested on animals, that the money I spend isn't contributing to species loss and also not irritating my skin is well worth the nine bucks.

But it looks like I'm now in the market for a new body wash that meets those specifications and also moisturizes super well, so, you know, if you've got one I'm interested. Otherwise I'll be spending the next several months testing out various brands until I find one I like enough to stick to, which was a rather expensive and disappointing 2 year process with shampoos.

Elephants in Raincoats

Go ahead. Just try to find a cuter picture.

I've recently been introduced to my calling.

Over two years ago I realized I'll probably never be happy unless animals are a very large part of my life, which means they'll need to be part of my work life. Whether that's working with them directly, writing about them, or working with people for their benefit, having animals only in my personal life just ain't going to cut it.

Then I saw this article. Because of human actions these baby elephants are orphans. However, because of human actions these orphan elephants are loved and cared for. They even get raincoats! That's what I want to do. I want to give orphan elephants their raincoats.

Elephants are like people, perhaps more than any other animal. We might be almost genetically identical to bonobos but when it comes to animal emotion I'm convinced elephants share a more similar mind. This means elephants, especially baby elephants, experience something very similar to PTSD. Just like a human child would be scarred for life after experiencing the death of a parent, a baby elephant would be traumatized.

If I had a lot of money I would buy a lot of land (like, tons) and use the space as a sanctuary for elephants here that are neglected, abused, unwanted or unable to be cared for. They would be able to live out the rest of their lives on that land, be fed, be able to interact with other elephants, be cared for when they needed it, and not be made to work or perform. It would be like the Black Beauty Ranch, except just for elephants (and hey, maybe Babe would want to come to have some company).

And then there's this picture:

How fucking amazing is this?!?

Clearly I am not in the right place in the world. Screw my fear of chemistry and being halfway decent at math... I could be in veterinary school right now.

When I become a world famous author and have the money or enough pull to get the fundraising necessary to pull off my dream, that's exactly what I'm going to do. In the meantime, I'll find a way to meet myself halfway.

Why I Love The Oatmeal

As far as internet comedians go, The Oatmeal is easily one of my favorites. I started going to the website for the grammar and stayed for the ridiculousness.

The Oatmeal combines silly cartoons of dinosaurs (and other, non-extinct, animals) with intelligent observations on life. I mean, the guy made a guide on how to pet a kitty. And it's completely accurate. And hilarious! Outside of grammar my favorite comics are called Minor Differences. I look at them at work sometimes and have to try very hard to not literally lol (Part 4 is my favorite).

Also, I found out The Oatmeal is a runner. And not just the I'm-gonna-take-a-quick-jog type of runner. He ran a 50 mile ultra marathon. Through mountains. That's hardcore running.

So not only is The Oatmeal a funny and insightful comic, but he brings awareness of our wonderful language to the masses (if you use the wrong you're/your on Facebook you better believe I'm judging you) and he's apparently a very active person. Props to you, Mr. Oatmeal. And please post things more often.

Dumb Animals

I'm not the only one disgusted.

Spoiler alert: the dumb animals are us.

Thanks to poaching for a completely made up reason, there are now 7 Northern white rhinos left in the world. One captive Northern white rhino died recently in a zoo in the Czech Republic, leaving the captive count to 3. And two of them are what some call reproductively challenged. Also, old. So there's no captive breeding, period. Those 4 that were shipped of to Africa a 18 months ago better be making babies STAT.

Angalifu likely represents exactly 1/3 of his species.

It's long been known that rhino horn is used as a traditional Chinese medicine, supposedly curing everything from fevers to AIDS. First, we can ignore the obvious logic that if rhino horn did cure anything, we'd be raising rhinos for the exact purpose of harvesting their horns. Now that all reason is removed, let's look at China, one of the biggest players in the rhino horn black market. One man, the retired head of the National Traditional Chinese Medicine Strategy Research Project, believes it's only a matter of time until rhinos are bred for their horn, and is actively trying to re-legalize the use of rhino horn in traditional Chinese medicine. At least this guy (Jia Qian) is 70 and doesn't have his whole life left to see his goal realized, and if he does rely on rhino horn for his medicine he should be dead pretty darn soon. So that's good.

But in the meantime, Jia believes

"the reason the Chinese government hasn't used rhino horn for these diseases is because some people were Western trained and tainted by Western thought. Other people were weak and gave in to foreign pressure."

Fuck you, Jia. Western scientists have intensely scrutinized rhino horn to see if there is anything even remotely worth using for the benefit of our own species and there's absolutely nothing. It's just hair. Simple hair formed in an unusual way (no other animal has a horn made entirely of hair), but not miraculous and certainly not medicinal. But he, and others, believe strongly in its use and advocate breeding "endangered medicinal-use animals" to deal with the increase in demand.

However, and this is a big point, the only reason there's an increase in demand is because Jia and the Chinese government are encouraging its citizens to use rhino horn. There's already a rhino farm where 60 or so white rhinos are kept in concrete pens (under the guise of creating an African safari-type park for tourism, despite the fact that plans for this park halted over two years ago) and are used in horn harvesting experiments (under another guise of reintroducing the animals into the wild through breeding centers) which is 100% against CITES and definitely not why South Africa gave them to China. What does China gain by doing something the vast majority of the world disagrees with? Why does China eat dogs?

Nola, the sweetest girl to live out most of her species. She's 1/7 her population.

But here's some good news: South Africa just sentenced 2 poachers to 16 years in prison after catching them red handed - literally - with a freshly cut rhino horn that they later matched with DNA analysis to a dead rhino. And then in Kenya some poachers shot an elephant with poison arrows, killed it, roasted its meat, and then died from eating poisoned elephant. Serves you all right, you fucking assholes.

A Decade

Sweet girl.

I've written before, many times, about my cat Milo. Today was the tenth anniversary if his death. It may seem silly or crazy (let's not forget I'm both silly and crazy) but that was the first thing I loved and he's still the love of my life. Had he still been alive he would turn 18 this year, which is a pretty unlikely age for a cat, especially one that goes outside. But that doesn't matter.

It's so weird to think of someone being dead longer than they've been alive. Milo died ten years ago, a few months before he would have turned 8 years old. Two nights ago I dreamed our dog, Tipper, was with me on an intense hike with a group of strangers. She was the only dog and she was a real trooper, even though she was older. Everyone loved her, she hopped up onto the rocks like a pup, and swam in the water with me, even though in real life she was a little afraid of water. I gave her a big hug, like I was just realizing how great she was, and it felt so real in the dream. I woke up pretty happy that I had that experience with her, even though it wasn't real. I miss her a lot; she was a great dog.

The behbeh.

Part of the problem with loving animals is they don't live very long. That means I'll love, and lose, a great number of animals in my life. On the other hand, I've been lucky enough to not have had to experience the loss of people in my life yet. But I feel like I can have a stronger connection with animals than I can with most people, so maybe their losses have more of an effect. But that doesn't matter either, because that's something I never want to change.

Two Years Ago

Two years ago I made out with a giraffe. Kind of.

Two years ago yesterday was the first day of the rest of my life. On May 6, 2009 I signed employment papers to be a photo caravan driver at the Wild Animal Park. I met people who changed my outlook on life so much that I'll never be happy if I'm not doing something I'm passionate about.

Two years ago I had been unemployed for 3 months after being laid off from my writing job. I wasn't happy there and had been looking for a new job, but never would have looked at the zoo job board had I not gotten laid off. And because I was desperate for a job I knew I'd take anything. Luckily, being a photo caravan driver was the best thing to happen and I rocked my interview, getting the job the next day. I went into the interview thinking it was for the Journey Into Africa tram and was beyond excited to hear otherwise. I spent the next 4 months getting up close and personal with dozens of wild animals, listening to my coworkers talk about their behaviors and how they've adapted to their environments, and watching species I don't know if I'll ever see in the wild act completely natural. It was a dream come true for me, a dream I never really knew I had.

Two years ago I didn't know this animal existed.

Two years ago I was in love with someone I knew wasn't right for me, but too afraid to let go. I had been going back and forth between wanting to break up and wanting to stay for almost 5 months. I didn't have the courage to leave a 5+ year relationship and I knew it. Meeting the photo caravan people, seeing their immense passion for these animals, getting glimpses of their lives and the animals in them, made me realize how unhappy I would be if I didn't leave my relationship. I always knew I wanted horses, a cow, dogs, cats, rats, whatever came my way, but the person I was with not only didn't share that dream, he was allergic to animal hair. The only reason we lasted as long as we did was because he put up with it to be with me, and he adored my cat, but it was always a sore issue. I knew being with him would eventually mean giving up many of the animals I wanted in my life. It took me two more months to fully realize this, to fully realize how badly I would hurt in the future if I had to give up (or be restricted in) having animals in my life, but I finally did and I left. In the two years since it's been absolutely crucial to be with someone who loves animals. I may not have found the perfect man yet, but knowing that this is something I can't compromise on really narrows it down.

Two years ago I learned this face will likely determine who I love.

Two years ago I was lazy, tired and bored (and boring). Working in an office all day, staring at a computer screen, sitting on my ass drained all of my energy. I would go home, put on my pajamas and watch TV until I fell asleep. I didn't go out and do things at night and barely did anything on the weekends. I hated who I was. Working in the intense heat of the San Pasqual Valley, moving around and lifting buckets of water when I wasn't driving, and being mentally stimulated while I was driving gave me ten times the energy I had from my previous job. I left work sweaty and gross but rejuvenated, went home to shower and went out with friends and coworkers. I had energy to sit up late with my neighbors drinking wine and talking in the courtyard, energy to go to Taco Tuesday pretty much every week, energy for Stone movie nights, energy for bar hopping on nights off and running on mornings off. I loved who I was that summer. When the summer, and my job, ended I knew I would have to find a new job I could be passionate about, that I wouldn't be happy ever again doing something I didn't care for.

Two years ago I never imagined this photo would exist.

Two years ago I had no direction in my life. I gave up on being a journalist and had no where else to turn. If I wasn't going to continue making writing my career, what was left for me? Biology would be too impractical because of the debt I would have and because I still didn't know what I wanted to do. Writing didn't make sense if I wasn't going to be a teacher or a journalist, and nothing else interested me. Despite knowing I definitely wanted to continue with higher education I couldn't just do something for the sake of getting a master's. I needed to love it, needed to want it, needed to imagine myself in a specific position afterwards. And I'm excited to admit now, finally, I know what I want, know what I want to be, and know how I want to help change the world.

Two years ago I had an idea but I was on the verge of giving it up. Two years ago I found out I don't have to hide my passion and excitement for animals and conservation. Two years ago I learned what it meant to be a Cape buffalo. Two years ago I knew it couldn't be any other way.

100% Real Chicken!

This is in your chicken.

Go to a fast food restaurant. Or drive around and check out billboards. Or just turn on the TV and watch some commercials. I guarantee you'll be promised 100% real chicken. Or real cheese. Or real beef. Real food. At restaurants.

Am I the only one who thinks it's silly that restaurants feel the need to advertise that they sell real food? Are the ones that advertise real meat implying that the ones that don't are selling fake meat? Is there any chance that we're eating fake food products? If there isn't any chance of that, why would some restaurants advertise that they sell real food?

This is a scary thought. The thought is made more scary having just finished The Jungle. That is a scary book, especially because it's all real. Sinclair went undercover in a Chicago slaughterhouse in order to write the book. He got a job, toiled as a worthless cog, saw the insides of the meat industry, and wrote so the rest of the world could understand. And understand they did. Well, kind of. The Pure Food and Drug Act and Meat Inspection Act were passed, which was a step in the right direction, but his goal was a bit loftier. He wanted to expose the lies of America for what they were: lure people with the promise of wealth and the American Dream and crush their hopes for a decent existence. But that book was written waaaaay back in 1906, over 100 years ago. No way food is still produced the same way, especially after all the regulations we have now.

Right?

That's what I'm not sure of. Sure, sausage isn't made from the scraps of beef on the slaughterhouse floor anymore (I think...), but would we be proud of how our meat is made? Probably not. A new report came out showing the amount of antibiotics in the livestock we eat: an insane 80% of all antibiotics consumed in the United States is consumed by livestock. Americans only consume 20% of all antibiotics in the country. But if we feed our animals all these drugs, aren't we consuming them in the end when we eat the animals?

And what does 100% real mean???

Turns out I'm not the only one asking this question. There's a Facebook page wondering what McDonald's served us before if now they're serving us "100% real" chicken. It seems that the more I learn about the food I eat the more questions I have. Now I understand why there are people who only eat "dead" plants (like, apples that fell from the tree on their own accord) and why there are people who will spend 4 times the regular cost of produce for organic. There has to be a happy medium somewhere, a way to eat food responsibly and healthfully without going into debt. It seems the search for answers continues.

Joker

The most handsome, happy man.

I've kind of been putting off this post because it's another step in the "admitting it's true" direction, and that's still too hard to believe.

Having grown up with all sorts of animals and having maybe a cumulative year and a half of pet-less time in my whole life there've been some really awesome animals. Joker was one of them, and the best dog I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Everyone who knew him, even everyone who just met him passing by or at the park commented on what a wonderful dog he was. No one didn't like Joker.

Staring down the ball.

Joker was the smartest and most obedient dog I've seen by far, and one of the most loyal, most loving and most eager to please creatures on the planet. Part of that was his breeding, but a lot of it was his personality. When you sat on the couch he'd come sit right next to you and put his head on your leg, staring up into your eyes with such unashamed adoration. If you didn't immediately respond with love he nudged you with his chest, then threw his leg up on you. He needed to be next to the ones he loved as often as possible.

I GOT THE BALL!

The mere sight of his leash or a ball or frisbee or the neighbor kids or anything that could be chased (rock, tree bark, water bottle, dart, some other dog's ball) he would wag his whole body with explosive excitement. Sometimes it looked like he'd fall over from wagging too much. At the dog park he almost completely ignored other dogs and people and stared at the ball like it was an enemy to destroy. He outran all other dogs in the chase, flew headfirst into wherever the ball landed, often coming back with a face full of dirt or grass but always an unmistakably happy grin of accomplishment. His teeth were so worn down because of his enthusiasm for playing. Sometimes he got so wound up over fetch that he'd throw the ball back in your general direction, too eager for the next game to bring it all the way to your hand. But just call him over and ask for it nicely and he'd put it gently in your hand. It took all of his self control to do that. It was amazing.

What he lived for.

Joker died quite suddenly on Halloween night. His absence has left a gaping hole in his family, his house is empty, and those who loved him have hollow hearts. People often live for animals more than they realize, and losing one, especially when he was the most amazing animal, can make life seem worthless. Joker was too young and far too good to die. He should have lived forever, or at least until right before his family died, so that way he'd never have to feel the pain of separation.

Dog tired.

If there is a rainbow bridge or a heaven or a place where good souls go, Joker's is there. And I hope there is so he can see those he loved again, and so they can play endless games of fetch and so they can lay down, dog tired, together again.