tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63604403175682831332024-03-18T18:53:20.596-05:00The Middle FlipperMy life working
with animals who
are smarter and
cuter than me...Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.comBlogger213125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-65337071470507684892017-09-24T06:36:00.004-05:002017-09-24T06:36:56.970-05:00Dream a Little Dream, Revisited<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I wrote about this <a href="http://themiddleflipper.blogspot.com/2016/09/dream-little-dream.html" target="_blank">last year,</a> but I need to revisit it. Anxiety dreams. Zoo work anxiety dreams.<br /><br />I AM STILL HAVING THEM. I haven't been in the field for almost a year. Do any other former zoo keeps have this problem??<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRIUbDAWbWrN-k1Il_fZga6Lx0ec82Uz8ARZxX_KGPj3jybcSGfQPX_l4fRzdTHNDIx58Zx6jqZeUtS_Re-qqFLtpBxhOAJ5kALdmj9mpYocFYfJVSozcbDIobaeJ6GXztXcvGDD0EqiV-/s1600/not-crazy-the-joker.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="500" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRIUbDAWbWrN-k1Il_fZga6Lx0ec82Uz8ARZxX_KGPj3jybcSGfQPX_l4fRzdTHNDIx58Zx6jqZeUtS_Re-qqFLtpBxhOAJ5kALdmj9mpYocFYfJVSozcbDIobaeJ6GXztXcvGDD0EqiV-/s320/not-crazy-the-joker.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right? RIGHT???</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I think it's safe to say that zookeepers probably have among the most colorful dreams of any profession. And the anxiety dreams are even weirder. Just when you think you're safe at home, decompressing from your job and drifting into a delicious, deep sleep....BOOM. Your brain suddenly creates an elaborate story involving elements such as: flying animals (who do not fly), bizarre accidents, and gates that just will not lock no matter what you do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You guys, I STILL have dreams about my dolphin trainer days. Not just like, tra la la la, here I am swimming with dolphins like I used to, but full-blown "OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO GET FIRED AND I WILL THINK THAT WAY UNTIL I WAKE UP" or "WHERE AM I EXACTLY" kind of dreams.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm sure many of you have your own list of cycling zoo nightmares, but here are some of my usuals that still happen to this day:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>1. Being late and/or forgetting what day I am supposed to work<br /></b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMlxgpgGWynpTAlIcUzFMy9KgzrJKPiEhk10jcVJh2eiZOqNbz1OaPKDzKLXAlQu5zad-SJQWa0LyPCFesNp2VNw3j0Ne7wcuHNBO94m_X9IKetgk1cixV4gxEmWrbnUk_ieCuBEvVpbGB/s1600/funny-pictures-this-is-the-real-reason-youre-late-for-work.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="491" data-original-width="450" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMlxgpgGWynpTAlIcUzFMy9KgzrJKPiEhk10jcVJh2eiZOqNbz1OaPKDzKLXAlQu5zad-SJQWa0LyPCFesNp2VNw3j0Ne7wcuHNBO94m_X9IKetgk1cixV4gxEmWrbnUk_ieCuBEvVpbGB/s400/funny-pictures-this-is-the-real-reason-youre-late-for-work.jpg" width="366" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is why I'm a cat person</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">AHHHH this one happens to me still, maybe once a week. ONCE A FRIGGIN WEEK, people.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have had one (1) anxiety dream about being late to my internship, but guess what? The reason I was late to my internship in this dream was because I THOUGHT I was supposed to be at Marineland (Florida), so I stopped at Publix, but I couldn't find the food I wanted in there, because for some reason they only sold bolts of cloth (??), so I left, got in my car and realized that I was late to my job at Marineland. Except, my phone was blowing up from my lab internship mentor, wondering where I was.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But other than that one dream about the lab, all the other late-dreams are about Marineland, Florida. I have no clue why it is just that facility.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDy4pBnaDaq_CzsjGa0xKbYRvohaod3j6Kmbr7jyJA9NW13JjLWk2huuB5xDlodadaoRY3rhLAN_ZkDMwUWEvzmOujBeO7KpNn6r02B658QsaISt2GSHpsoQQDXveUgYScTh001HQTdHEq/s1600/484328_10100486551493811_1527577198_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDy4pBnaDaq_CzsjGa0xKbYRvohaod3j6Kmbr7jyJA9NW13JjLWk2huuB5xDlodadaoRY3rhLAN_ZkDMwUWEvzmOujBeO7KpNn6r02B658QsaISt2GSHpsoQQDXveUgYScTh001HQTdHEq/s400/484328_10100486551493811_1527577198_n.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maybe cuz their dolphins are awesome?</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Usually, I oversleep, wake up in a panic, and struggle to get in my car. I can never, ever, ever use my cell phone properly in these dreams. I try to call. I try to text. But I keep pounding in the wrong number, no matter how hard I try. Or I can't turn my phone on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">OR, like two nights ago, I had a dream that I showed up to work as a new hire, but in a relatively realistic context. I'm not "new" in terms of experienced, but Marineland lets me come back for a period of time to help out. And I forget what day or shift I am, so I show up (or don't) at the wrong time. I am always somehow scheduled to stay really late, like well into the evening hours, and that's usually when the dream takes a bizarre turn and suddenly I am flying around, or realize I can breathe underwater. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><br />2. Suddenly finding myself in a habitat I am not supposed to be in<br /></b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInJSEFtdcndvaSqdi8C8EiZ2o_5Jen4qB6okDKvxQ30YVI56O9mHi0b5iaxpfMCsUuoMq9GOPdhwtuuKMQnG7zZOtFtZB4ALEXJSGjzhR23UYbEWCUuWo_ufF9MDXIJegwvMWInRN_Irb/s1600/13aef6638f92131cd092ac85d2260c0439447e7e9674ca3b4a286e5a4b36fd17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInJSEFtdcndvaSqdi8C8EiZ2o_5Jen4qB6okDKvxQ30YVI56O9mHi0b5iaxpfMCsUuoMq9GOPdhwtuuKMQnG7zZOtFtZB4ALEXJSGjzhR23UYbEWCUuWo_ufF9MDXIJegwvMWInRN_Irb/s320/13aef6638f92131cd092ac85d2260c0439447e7e9674ca3b4a286e5a4b36fd17.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh well, guess I'll just have to swim with dolphins</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There I am, hanging out at Marineland, or Gulfarium, or National Aquarium, or Miami Seaquarium (this has never occurred at Clearwater, for some reason) and BOOM. I am in the water with dolphins or sea lions. But I am not supposed to. It's after hours, or I just fell in. The dolphins never pull me in or anything, it's just that somehow, I end up there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This type of dream usually goes one of two ways. The slightly-less nerve-wracking one is where I am suddenly in the water for whatever reason, and I just swim with the dolphins (also where I realize I can breathe underwater, which is AMAZING) and think about how great it is that I can hide from the rest of the staff. They always try to get me out, but they never can. I know I will be fired, but I don't care.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Or, I get in, and it's with the animals who are basically like, "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE" and it gets really scary (you guys know what I mean). When I get out, I have to go explain to people what happened, which is when I get fired.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>3. Having to do a swim program without knowing anything about WTF is going on<br /></b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2zdcIQYqHa6UjTeppPwHLji7gnM7O22UvjnWwmr60YLtOT4YIQAsDxCLrVAe6bNn0-A_Ts8EMO-JKN6BhcwOnk_Zow0KrwkElVGJ9L7FObm-W96c3CtbtNj2WnUEM3euX7CBBOCPHFmkN/s1600/i-have-no-idea-what-i-amp-039-m-doing_o_2083781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="464" data-original-width="600" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2zdcIQYqHa6UjTeppPwHLji7gnM7O22UvjnWwmr60YLtOT4YIQAsDxCLrVAe6bNn0-A_Ts8EMO-JKN6BhcwOnk_Zow0KrwkElVGJ9L7FObm-W96c3CtbtNj2WnUEM3euX7CBBOCPHFmkN/s320/i-have-no-idea-what-i-amp-039-m-doing_o_2083781.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But the hat looks good, so.....</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This usually happens in the same dream as what I've already written above. A few nights ago, I had a dream where I went back to work at Marineland. I walk in on my first day, and suddenly I have five minutes to suit up and do an immersion program with the dolphins. I'm freaking out. I don't remember the SDs, I don't know half of the animals, and I am just terrified. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Aaaaaand usually I just wind up passing my guests off to another trainer, and start swimming with the dolphins. Or I'll just fly away. You know, the normal dream things. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>4. Being in a facility that is a bizarre combination of all of the other places I have worked<br /></b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiO098g6W-msSfOi1gBWDHK5i64F0wmIOTt_jXjMXsmnZXqHJpGexy6Xy5ievxAFpgQCgUJVByq8JGLNvOhBlnydU1tdOUC875RyQS3mg3jRjo2r-tfp5M6hfQYoe_YfNMuRmaiakP6-o/s1600/tenor.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="482" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiO098g6W-msSfOi1gBWDHK5i64F0wmIOTt_jXjMXsmnZXqHJpGexy6Xy5ievxAFpgQCgUJVByq8JGLNvOhBlnydU1tdOUC875RyQS3mg3jRjo2r-tfp5M6hfQYoe_YfNMuRmaiakP6-o/s320/tenor.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You're welcome</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">National Aquarium has appeared to me in the following ways:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">a. As a rectangular pool surrounded by stadium seating in the middle of Ohio</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">b. As the Shedd Aquarium except, it was still in Baltimore</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">c. With a hidden penguin exhibit<br />d. As a mashup of Clearwater Marine Aquarium and NAIB</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Brookfield Zoo always has underwater passage ways and hidden exhibits. I've never worked there, but I still have dreams I work there all the time. My favorite version of this dream is the dolphin elevator that takes the animals to whatever hidden exhibits they want to go, so we can hardly find them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Clearwater Marine Aquarium has a lot of bizarrely-shaped dolphin pools and a giant basement filled with turtle habitats and vending machines.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5izYNyjmScKZ7qLvMtfKJOfZtTmaUTJa92DeuGj7LKWegEeNfA0Y7t7YT4s66eicL7FT9fmE__eQflAf5QWwJGTCjvoE3FDUpnBYSmzNLK1ZW9LRbVGj_m7uofOeaUD0ocDG96mrbkqks/s1600/vendingmachine09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="591" data-original-width="450" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5izYNyjmScKZ7qLvMtfKJOfZtTmaUTJa92DeuGj7LKWegEeNfA0Y7t7YT4s66eicL7FT9fmE__eQflAf5QWwJGTCjvoE3FDUpnBYSmzNLK1ZW9LRbVGj_m7uofOeaUD0ocDG96mrbkqks/s320/vendingmachine09.jpg" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THIS IS A REAL VENDING MACHINE </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Marineland stays the same<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge4QUN9wDiDzihov0YGf73Lbd7yqRw9J2tXgK806voW0iblccFdi3S1CoGDUrQaIMhbHNyFuLjxflusDmsoPMisyz_TuoQY6eqRNNo_XvcmvAWhReyawRX1madYRYfBjHK0BdCIYZxcnpF/s1600/pizza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge4QUN9wDiDzihov0YGf73Lbd7yqRw9J2tXgK806voW0iblccFdi3S1CoGDUrQaIMhbHNyFuLjxflusDmsoPMisyz_TuoQY6eqRNNo_XvcmvAWhReyawRX1madYRYfBjHK0BdCIYZxcnpF/s400/pizza.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Okay, where is this? I NEED IT</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">All of my Gulfarium dreams involve a totally unrecognizable space and I am usually fighting with someone (human). Or I'm calling them to tell them I have quit because I forgot I had to work at Marineland. Last night, I saw the Gulfarium team outside of Marineland letting their penguins surf in the waves of the Atlantic.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoaZbtpWXv1TsiJa8GNnfhUVM39V4sbfe99lNMOAef77etMqDKT29exBoxSvTU2yghKYnC5wmD1wAIUiZhXxm2qA_c8Xvlj9y85XP4yBXV2dGDhpXoo94eAnTNA5uo6sQ0EpJbF6hDxQkm/s1600/books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="600" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoaZbtpWXv1TsiJa8GNnfhUVM39V4sbfe99lNMOAef77etMqDKT29exBoxSvTU2yghKYnC5wmD1wAIUiZhXxm2qA_c8Xvlj9y85XP4yBXV2dGDhpXoo94eAnTNA5uo6sQ0EpJbF6hDxQkm/s400/books.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A book vending machine. A BOOK vending machine. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>5. Animals that turn into people, or other animals<br /></b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqA8kUsDw-Km8sBpCZzvSTVHbVPbshERAi0Kb4wP0Z8ZxiBwto4Kbvhcqj4xoIfhUnOMKWCn-PuarAz51PXihEPrB6si3OhC94LaA1xrrqnBDbqupKLPLUPaVNAoT9q4yiPxoqcn0O0-J/s1600/PleasedConfusedIaerismetalmark.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="500" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqA8kUsDw-Km8sBpCZzvSTVHbVPbshERAi0Kb4wP0Z8ZxiBwto4Kbvhcqj4xoIfhUnOMKWCn-PuarAz51PXihEPrB6si3OhC94LaA1xrrqnBDbqupKLPLUPaVNAoT9q4yiPxoqcn0O0-J/s320/PleasedConfusedIaerismetalmark.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I never know</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This usually happens with one of the loves of my life, Tocoi. One minute, she's a dolphin. The next, she's a bird perched on my shoulder. The next, she's some random person that doesn't talk. But the entire time, I feel this is just how Tocoi is. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>6. Animals who have passed away suddenly coming back to life<br /></b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbZNvNSnQtJnJt2tY4i7drg5PJnQw0BjCvmoix5QwfVeNOo6HfB3QP0gUHaLnJK1F8QDPSGTRSLNlZt8982JtuMuRJKJ9c2GVcj7g3PbMcGtv0pZyqOAWVXoBt252TBK1UM_aCQl5NrjW/s1600/vending-machine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="250" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbZNvNSnQtJnJt2tY4i7drg5PJnQw0BjCvmoix5QwfVeNOo6HfB3QP0gUHaLnJK1F8QDPSGTRSLNlZt8982JtuMuRJKJ9c2GVcj7g3PbMcGtv0pZyqOAWVXoBt252TBK1UM_aCQl5NrjW/s320/vending-machine.jpg" width="195" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm gonna need to visit this vending machine after writing this section</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Ugh. This one really makes me sad. It happens to me a lot with my cat, Andi. But it's happened with some of the other animals I've worked with.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Every time I see them, I am shocked, because I know they have died. But magically, they are alive again. Or, I think I've traveled back in time and I dread going watching them die again. I hate, hate, hate this dream.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>7. My work uniform is extremely small<br /></b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLyQd2z0vdulRfgCTQqe9hYXjx7rLkjBuD1CwVmrrB0vF540qxVrTF8KzqosdN-fpFixGaK3iTGtHw6EwxaWkHFg9ro8rRbsuih3Q-cvPRIZs70kclIBQJWj9VlEHnLquTFw6lf-cjleX0/s1600/6aa92dff26d557683c878ceac8a859ec.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="367" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLyQd2z0vdulRfgCTQqe9hYXjx7rLkjBuD1CwVmrrB0vF540qxVrTF8KzqosdN-fpFixGaK3iTGtHw6EwxaWkHFg9ro8rRbsuih3Q-cvPRIZs70kclIBQJWj9VlEHnLquTFw6lf-cjleX0/s320/6aa92dff26d557683c878ceac8a859ec.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It makes me want to hug you forever</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Last but not least, this one. THIS ONE. This one happens in basically ALL of the aforementioned dream types. I show up (usually to Marineland again, for cryin' out loud) and all of my uniforms are missing so I have to go through the communal uniform pile and everything is tiny tiny tiny. Or, my uniforms are just extremely small.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Like, belly-shirt. I spend half of the dream trying to put my rashguard on (which, as we know, is pretty true to real life). Just forget about the shorts. I have to Porky Pig it, which is really embarrassing but I was late to my shift, so I just have to deal.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHOSMwJtrZngIEqiqcsJn_9VAZAK5kOGx3m5ZGHd4CxiMr2FHDH6aVqbU7pjNflb8WsdykV8Jq8Qb3aikG3oO08kwaDtbTac9Br9hkTZ16v3Y5RcSJ8w3nCfKXqQl4p6tX62UgnB3BJXUG/s1600/8287d16d075074aeb999fab67a4c3207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1052" data-original-width="814" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHOSMwJtrZngIEqiqcsJn_9VAZAK5kOGx3m5ZGHd4CxiMr2FHDH6aVqbU7pjNflb8WsdykV8Jq8Qb3aikG3oO08kwaDtbTac9Br9hkTZ16v3Y5RcSJ8w3nCfKXqQl4p6tX62UgnB3BJXUG/s320/8287d16d075074aeb999fab67a4c3207.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All you need is a bowtie and a jacket. Pants are not necessary</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I guess anxiety dreams just really dig themselves into the deepest parts of your subconscious mind, especially when they deal with a part of your life that you dedicated so much of your time and emotional energy. I just figured I'd get over the lame "I'm going to be fired" parts of the dream and just have a jolly time doing the fun stuff. <br /><br />You guys gave me some great work anxiety dreams after last year's post on this topic, and I'd love to hear more. I especially want to hear from you former-keeps; what dreams keep haunting you?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-56200563538785173412017-09-17T06:52:00.000-05:002017-09-17T06:52:02.613-05:00Holy Hurricanes, Batman<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Whoa, you guys. Mother Nature has been real active. So much so, that I feel like a giant blobby blob. She's out there twirling around at 83598mph, pulling up trees from their roots, flattening houses, and I'm sitting here slumped in my chair wondering where my next cheese fix is going to come from.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRD3U13sn1APyD-TIxSA5YksXEoJI_lhIDjzg6zgLd2kaWKFeOOYDPGhMnlS5X15lqcDE4JAAEofizRwQuZfR7JbfWmpJLMCOvingfAdXHG2m0wKg84rrkl6OSAQKWnp3fL7mmaqS7WPCi/s1600/JazZ6.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="500" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRD3U13sn1APyD-TIxSA5YksXEoJI_lhIDjzg6zgLd2kaWKFeOOYDPGhMnlS5X15lqcDE4JAAEofizRwQuZfR7JbfWmpJLMCOvingfAdXHG2m0wKg84rrkl6OSAQKWnp3fL7mmaqS7WPCi/s320/JazZ6.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Okay, never from a can. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I don't mean to make light of the really scary hurricanes we've seen hit so many places over the past few weeks. They destroyed lives and livelihoods. They caused a tremendous amount of damage, especially in places like Houston, Puerto Rico, Haiti and Barbuda. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There are literally ten zillion (plus or minus) things we could focus on when it comes to penning a blog on hurricanes. But I want to focus on zoos. And I want to focus on the positives. You know why? Because I think we have to sort through some of the dark stuff in order to feel like what we (or rather, those of you who weathered the storms) are doing is important and recognized.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Here are some of the amazing things that I thought came out of the last two hurricane hits from a zoo perspective:</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1) The animals came first, without unnecessary risk to humans</span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmwWLRQMkIiCVb3eJQAxJv1bA2vT-5sCaQ-lLYw_ctxBXXqj8tJJLD3_kXQlJyJf8lUmFlmxseEyEyEbK2marWRkuabtantcOIJJ_9_AISbBPmCSQYTH2YsUb0xB1mhwt6F3FZtLfLK4A/s1600/2367549_800x450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="800" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmwWLRQMkIiCVb3eJQAxJv1bA2vT-5sCaQ-lLYw_ctxBXXqj8tJJLD3_kXQlJyJf8lUmFlmxseEyEyEbK2marWRkuabtantcOIJJ_9_AISbBPmCSQYTH2YsUb0xB1mhwt6F3FZtLfLK4A/s320/2367549_800x450.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saving some stranded animals at Texas Zoo, nbd</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There is a fine line between putting someone in a horrendously dangerous situation just to say you are trying to keep an eye on the animals, and having a skeleton crew stay behind to handle the aftermath of the storm with proper safety precautions in place. That is probably going to look different, depending on what facility you're at. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">For those of you who do not work in zoos or aquariums, severe weather often requires zookeepers to balance their own safety with their ability to help out during (or really, after) a storm. That's because no one may be able to get there to help out (you know, tornadoes, hurricanes, and blizzards tend to slow traffic down a little). Having people live at the zoo ensures that you have qualified, trustworthy people to at LEAST feed the animals and make emergency repairs if possible when it's safe to do so.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-2ppQsaBQGODSIgkWq5tr5QFhksGigNC_s2QnXbPc-5NUqP55nZ1zye0BXdR5TerKb-KsDr2ML62_T9ApX76-fzyPsOmPz9vvttYwh-PomONHo-LruAl69rZfw2qGgKLDbqVGpFXaBnt/s1600/7f738afd7cfddaee93ef32b44fca50db.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="400" height="383" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-2ppQsaBQGODSIgkWq5tr5QFhksGigNC_s2QnXbPc-5NUqP55nZ1zye0BXdR5TerKb-KsDr2ML62_T9ApX76-fzyPsOmPz9vvttYwh-PomONHo-LruAl69rZfw2qGgKLDbqVGpFXaBnt/s400/7f738afd7cfddaee93ef32b44fca50db.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If my boss is a crocodile, I will do whatever she effing says</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But that's the thing. You don't "HAVE" to do that. You could just lock up the zoo and drive away, to evacuate or hunker down in your own house. You could let fate decide what happens to the critters. But so many of you didn't. You knew that when you signed on to take care of animals for a living, you signed on to be there with them, through thick and then. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I think it was very evident for both hurricanes Harvey and Irma how much people did to make sure EVERYONE was safe. That is awesome :) Unsurprising, but still awesome.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2) Six Degrees of Separation and Lots of Love<br /></span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4xcnMgeIDuxK1a8eGCnq-mj9_Gsg5OInMgVUdFKYpRB3NxcIcS-zIFPbf2tVRNl1sRXiZkP5Ks0fKDvH82fQkyNHQyK13Ju-4EtiKjnfSwY7uIDaddA2-9pKYXGRMjtr1nNsPQIw4uJ_/s1600/200.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="201" data-original-width="481" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4xcnMgeIDuxK1a8eGCnq-mj9_Gsg5OInMgVUdFKYpRB3NxcIcS-zIFPbf2tVRNl1sRXiZkP5Ks0fKDvH82fQkyNHQyK13Ju-4EtiKjnfSwY7uIDaddA2-9pKYXGRMjtr1nNsPQIw4uJ_/s400/200.gif" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We don't need no sign!</td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Dude. My Facebook was BLOWING UP with storm updates, and 98% of those updates had to do with animals and zoos. People from across the country were using all of their social networking skills to find out how people were doing. Honestly, that was the first time I have really experienced something like that to that degree. I literally had nothing else on my Facebook feed except people saying "THE ANIMALS ARE OKAY", or "ZOO STAFF ARE OKAY" or "HAS ANYONE HEARD FROM XYZ FACILITY? ARE THEY OKAY?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I think we were all up late each night, waiting to hear news from the facilities we may never even have stepped foot in, but feel sick not knowing if everyone was okay.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyDUHUa_PbOg5rFWkk1HJ0seN8y-Mf-V1kpWQf5oqsBNha3n2v4bY2JPzKWuCpFMq7rxEqcXNyLNKMltfByw9gzW8lT0lWnV3Sbm60uPnecfTGnuXbEPFyrRpsPjdBHW3shJ42Liixq5lz/s1600/21742998_10155241524048778_4442419926392795667_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyDUHUa_PbOg5rFWkk1HJ0seN8y-Mf-V1kpWQf5oqsBNha3n2v4bY2JPzKWuCpFMq7rxEqcXNyLNKMltfByw9gzW8lT0lWnV3Sbm60uPnecfTGnuXbEPFyrRpsPjdBHW3shJ42Liixq5lz/s320/21742998_10155241524048778_4442419926392795667_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DRC letting first responders meet their amazing dolphins</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">AND AND AND, the facilities who had a lot of damage (e.g. lost medical supplies, structural damage that has closed down operations indefinitely, etc), they are receiving a lot of love from the rest of us through their GoFundMe-esque type crowdfunding sites. Not everyone has something to give, but it is really amazing to see people who make $9 an hour find something to give to help. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">What a family :) </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3) All The Enrichment Fodder You Could Ever Want<br /></span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5l6lCKwmDj0bEFS7S9dkZiABNA85kBzK3YItNeqa0lCJwCm-5TCyc0zUbJj-7uxG_3BWUGvTG8ZFKR0bzq8nW-oYzewLV9qVzq2LXYaSXkObIlhbdRG7Rgs-alAGD6VhBaxxO_XaVLdcf/s1600/65457461.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="462" data-original-width="615" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5l6lCKwmDj0bEFS7S9dkZiABNA85kBzK3YItNeqa0lCJwCm-5TCyc0zUbJj-7uxG_3BWUGvTG8ZFKR0bzq8nW-oYzewLV9qVzq2LXYaSXkObIlhbdRG7Rgs-alAGD6VhBaxxO_XaVLdcf/s320/65457461.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the next few months, we want to see Harvey and Irma-inspired EEDs</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This idea actually came from one of the most hilarious, amazing trainers in our community, Meaghan Everything-I-Say-Is-Hilarious. But you guys, think about it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Branches. Branches everywhere. THINK OF THE ENRICHMENT POSSIBILITIES. Now that's making lemonade out of lemons. </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">4) The Evident Dedication<br /></span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoJd4aaAHkUzLm9RdE4_Nza7ohVS0dxjxfus_B5PsCBHugPyAlAbDg-yN4yeNOl_ZuRE4wn2sn0N40pK390zXAS1m-kmKLaY5lu41rF_yon1DZnoupj8Z-zM75vejctiOi2kUrk8RxysHn/s1600/phillip-admire-island-dolphin-care-3-ht-jt-170911_4x3_992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="992" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoJd4aaAHkUzLm9RdE4_Nza7ohVS0dxjxfus_B5PsCBHugPyAlAbDg-yN4yeNOl_ZuRE4wn2sn0N40pK390zXAS1m-kmKLaY5lu41rF_yon1DZnoupj8Z-zM75vejctiOi2kUrk8RxysHn/s320/phillip-admire-island-dolphin-care-3-ht-jt-170911_4x3_992.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Island Dolphin Care staff (plus a director) being awesome</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Okay, I kind of touched on this in the first part, but I want to shout out to two specific things I have noticed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">FIRST, from my perspective, I have not heard one zookeeper in either hurricane that experienced a direct hit say ANYTHING about how "dedicated" they are. They have stayed totally focused on the tasks at hand: the animals and rebuilding. It's another obvious piece of evidence to support what so many of us know: we do this for the animals, not for the glamor. We don't need to brag or complain, unless we are bragging FOR our animals. I mean, I get it...if you go through a traumatizing experience where you didn't sleep for three days straight and wondered what the hell was going to happen, I think you earned a right to be like, "Hi, I'm a badass." <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zoo Miami </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But it says a lot that you guys didn't. Wow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">SECOND, there were a lot of you who did not stay behind at your facility. I hope you don't think that means you are any less brave, dedicated, or passionate. It's okay if you weren't scheduled. It's okay if you had reasons that meant you had to evacuate. This is a very complicated situation, and no one needs to judge you. You know why? Because the team that stuck it out in the storm is just the beginning. It's what happens NOW that relies so heavily on your ENTIRE team. The worst of the storm lasted hours at your zoo or aquarium, and it was scary and crazy. But the process of rebuilding is going to take months, and it's going to take the same emotional strength it would to hunker down in a hurricane or blizzard or alien abduction. So stop feeling guilty. Stop it! RIGHT NOW. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I SAID STOP</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I don't know what the rest of this hurricane season will bring. I don't know how long it will take for you zookeeps in the paths of these crazy storms to get back to normal. But I know that it shows your true and beautiful colors. <br /><br />Here are some of the relief fund pages I could find:<br /><br /><a href="https://www.houstonzoo.org/harveyrelief/" target="_blank">Houston Zoo's hurricane relief page (for both Houston Zoo employees and the AZA fund)</a><br /><a href="https://www.gofundme.com/thetexaszoo" target="_blank">The Texas Zoo</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.seewinter.com/hurricane-irma-update/" target="_blank"> Clearwater Marine Aquarium</a><br /><a href="https://dolphins.org/general_donation" target="_blank">Dolphin Research Center</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.dolphinsplus.com/dolphin-plus-charities/marine-mammal-responder" target="_blank">Dolphins Plus Marine Mammal Responder </a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://napleszoo.org/give" target="_blank">Naples Zoo </a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="https://donate.zoomiami.org/checkout/donation?eid=69371" target="_blank">Zoo Miami </a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Please feel free to suggest additions to this list; I'll update it as quickly as I can! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-38960820683904105892017-09-03T06:57:00.001-05:002017-09-03T06:57:39.057-05:00What IS A Dolphin? The Idealist vs Pragmatist<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I just started my second (and final) year of my master’s program in forensic science. One of the classes I’m taking is called Foundations of Criminal Justice, which is deliciously philosophical. And believe it or not friends, I have found some interesting parallels in the marine mammal world with some of the stuff I have been reading in my textbook.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my life right now</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">In the second chapter, the author writes about idealists versus pragmatists, and how they would develop and implement aspects of the criminal justice system. But the thing is guys, the author used an animal to illustrate the difference between the two perspectives. And I realized HOLY CRAP THIS IS IT. THIS EXPLAINS THE MAIN DISSONANCE BETWEEN THE GENERAL PUBLIC AND THE REST OF US.<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4dbrbTRndxBKIACN71kNX3jpamvaUkVFFJsRcwoy7vFNc5syYK_9pDjRujtmhBZrP5egG-YUW5LPxbCLJSjKUo2Ct5x241zdvLcbYtaZt4FQ4TlGqwvYJymMxTvxs8u_QBjZIGISzRRhW/s1600/idealism.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4dbrbTRndxBKIACN71kNX3jpamvaUkVFFJsRcwoy7vFNc5syYK_9pDjRujtmhBZrP5egG-YUW5LPxbCLJSjKUo2Ct5x241zdvLcbYtaZt4FQ4TlGqwvYJymMxTvxs8u_QBjZIGISzRRhW/s1600/idealism.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So let's just not pay attention</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">To put it bluntly, idealists tend to develop an idea about something without much (or any) legitimate facts/evidence to support it. Their goals are led by what they believe is the right or wrong ways to view/do things. Pragmatists take a scholarly approach, letting the evidence and systematic observation of events or data develop and flesh out the goal. So I'm reading this and then boom, suddenly I read how an idealist sees a dog (heroic, loyal, Rin Tin Tin) versus a pragmatist (something that pees in the house and eats all of your cupcakes). And it is basically exactly like how most people see dolphins.<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dog-shaming is definitely an exercise in pragmatism</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I could focus all my energy on school and really hone my understanding of this concept through the lens of my next chosen field, but I decided it would be better off in a blog. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Here are some major idealist (read: most of the general public, including myself before I became a dolphin trainer) concepts of dolphins, and the pragmatist (zookeeper) response. <b>Bold is idealist</b>, normal font is pragmatist. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold;">Dolphins live in tropical waters that are also 78,000 feet deep<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is especially directed at obnoxious ARAs</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Wrong. Raise your hand if you have told someone about dolphins living in cold water and they look at you like you just ate someone else’s toenails. I’ve encountered this when talking to guests about where they can go whale-watching in New England and geek out on the chance that they will see either Atlantic white-sided or white-beaked dolphins and they are like, “Uh, you moron, dolphins don’t live in cold water.”<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLx882o8GzI26RkvVpveLlKbYF2_X_thw7Yd_ENi6JDdm-lT1ir-G1KPZ_EDT9kyjI8I-fq5365cQ3NGs5-3Izsvg7LMcon6ITCuGTAMOlQddHGK0y0X3PNN-p69ctwiJdFGOpA8-vtRSC/s1600/12621165193_32c165aff4_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="674" data-original-width="1000" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLx882o8GzI26RkvVpveLlKbYF2_X_thw7Yd_ENi6JDdm-lT1ir-G1KPZ_EDT9kyjI8I-fq5365cQ3NGs5-3Izsvg7LMcon6ITCuGTAMOlQddHGK0y0X3PNN-p69ctwiJdFGOpA8-vtRSC/s320/12621165193_32c165aff4_b.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or these guys, who can ONLY live in cold water</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The other bizarre part of this is that some idealists (myself included!) are shocked to learn that in many cases, warm water dolphins live in pretty shallow water, because that is where the fish are. Until I moved to Florida, I thought all fish lived in deep water because like…you know, the bigger the fish tank the better or something. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold;">Dolphins will save drowning or distressed swimmers<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't count on dolphins helping you</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Okay, this may have happened once or twice. Maybe. But most of the time, if you get into trouble, dolphins will just sit underwater and laugh at you. Or think, “Wow, that sucks. Not my problem.” Sounds a little familiar. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold;">Dolphins are gentle creatures who live in peaceful societies</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie0YOaCnwTfb7dAQz4Gkf4fk9e9t5ryJkMVV0nnww5Z6EuI4XLcn2HjKTZ7r_ozk-W3AcRSJG93ix5CJhho_i8Bi25Lz-tFztqm3QmdepxII-Hb1VHhCaSXvHLK-8ev4gN6A2N09UyVYX_/s1600/main-qimg-cb4548a2330b3c8025005de2067f0775.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="576" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie0YOaCnwTfb7dAQz4Gkf4fk9e9t5ryJkMVV0nnww5Z6EuI4XLcn2HjKTZ7r_ozk-W3AcRSJG93ix5CJhho_i8Bi25Lz-tFztqm3QmdepxII-Hb1VHhCaSXvHLK-8ev4gN6A2N09UyVYX_/s320/main-qimg-cb4548a2330b3c8025005de2067f0775.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amiright</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Plants don’t even live in peaceful societies. Next question.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold;">Dolphins are extremely intelligent and are friendly towards people<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KNOW THE TRUTH</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Yeah, those of us who know dolphins know that they are individuals whose intelligence and friendliness exist on a pretty broad spectrum. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But the fact is, there are Jerk Dolphins out there. Usually, they are the insanely smart ones. They WILL steal your iPad. They WILL bite your toes. They WILL zoom into one of your guest’s um, male nether region. They will dismantle hardware in the habitat and hide all the pieces so you freak out for hours trying to locate them while the guilty dolphins look at your and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold;">Dolphins are the only animals other than humans who have sex for pleasure<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Side note: IT IS BASICALLY ALMOST HALLOWEEN</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I admit, I bought into it when I thought that dolphins were somehow “higher” than other animals (and when I thought that there was such a linear ladder of intellectual and behavioral complexity in animals, silly me). However, sex should feel good for at least one party in sexually-reproducing animals, otherwise it wouldn’t happen.</span></span><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13.1px; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">It’s not like a horse suddenly gets this idea in her head, “Oh, I can just magically tell I am ovulating. Better find a genetically-fit stallion so we can copulate and contribute another data point to the Selfish Gene Hypothesis.” No. Like the rest of us (dolphins included), the chick horse is like, “I NEED A MAN. THAT GORGEOUS ONE OVER THERE. GET OVER HERE AND DO GOOD WORK, SIR.”</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK4pnp_oHLnEurwohq4L9qenw91qlVrwT9NU-g3MqsMxgqJg0oUeWm5A6S2rXZSuJPdqXhTaEm2JSuerVI22s2IppzDpcx8xwwkowYU9Zi8si25HEGtAciy0mu-Pya77ZSsmk4EILRN4ST/s1600/i-dont-need-a-man-my-cat-loves-me-unconditionally.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="581" data-original-width="650" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK4pnp_oHLnEurwohq4L9qenw91qlVrwT9NU-g3MqsMxgqJg0oUeWm5A6S2rXZSuJPdqXhTaEm2JSuerVI22s2IppzDpcx8xwwkowYU9Zi8si25HEGtAciy0mu-Pya77ZSsmk4EILRN4ST/s320/i-dont-need-a-man-my-cat-loves-me-unconditionally.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and zookeepers are over here like....</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Dolphins do use sex as a social tool more than some other animals, but they are not the only ones to do so (bonobos and gold diggers are classic examples). </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: bold;">All dolphins want to do is play<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">World domination is serious</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">No. Sometimes they want to eat. Sometimes, they want to sleep. Other times, they sit around and plot the demise of humans (spoiler: they are well on their way). <br /><br />I've worked with a couple of dolphins who were just business-oriented, both in and out of sessions. They would play once in a while, but for the most part they were basically like Dwight Schrute.<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MARRY ME DWIGHT</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br />Most of us have idealist viewpoints on many subjects, and that is not a bad thing. I don’t really think it’s a good idea to be firmly in one camp or the other. And it is easy to move from one to the other, especially when it comes to an understanding of animals and what they are like as a species AND as individuals. I definitely learned a lot more about dolphins after actually working with them, despite all that I had read and studied. <br /><br />And while I am poking fun at the generalized, incorrect myths of dolphins people believe, I also realize that you know what? That's how our brains work, until we get new information to assimilate into our understanding. In the case of understanding animals, the job of a zookeeper is to provide accurate information to our guests who may think that all dolphins are nice, or that rattlesnakes are evil, or whatever misconceptions they have about their generalized idea of whatever species. Having an “idealist” concept of an animal doesn’t mean you are dumb. It just means you get to learn some more cool facts, and have an even BETTER appreciation for that critter! </span></div>
Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-3314078901850950552017-08-27T06:29:00.001-05:002017-08-27T06:29:34.957-05:00LOLing: Guaranteed When You're A Zookeeper<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Ahhh I am so sorry I missed last week. I was on vacation in the middle of the northwoods (awesome!) but that also entailed a 16 hour road trip with a two year old to get there and then to get home. After 5,007 rounds of Five Little Monkeys Jumping On The Bed, I forgot what time/year/planet it was. <br /><br /> </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here I was on Sunday night</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br /><br />Also, there has been a lot of sadness in our community lately. So today's blog is light.<br /><br />Yesterday, I heard an interview on NPR with an author who wrote a novel exploring the concept of “BFF”. She talked about how as kids, our relationship with our BFF is fairly non-verbal; we just play and have lots and lots of belly laughs. As we approach middle school, this starts to change, leading into an adulthood where we may or may not have a BFF….and if we do, it isn’t the same as when we were young kids.<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#JEALOUS</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">She specifically talked about the concept of laughter, and how in her experience, she just doesn’t have the daily gut-aching uncontrollable laughing fits she did as a kid with her group of friends. That really made me think about zookeeping.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I think as animal care professionals, we are very lucky in the BFF department. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Okay, I know that some of you work at places with tense or even hostile work environments. Sometimes, our field has a lot left to be desired in terms of professionalism with staff management. But generally speaking, even with people we really do not get along with personally, we share a very deeply-rooted passion that labeled us total PsychoNerds in primary school.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I mean admit it, guys. If I told you that in fourth grade, I did an “extra credit” report on killer whales…..like, I just out of nowhere asked Mrs. Dusa if I could do a report and presentation on killer whales…..and the class just stared at me like my face was roughly sculpted out of diarrhea, you would probably say, “OH MY GOD I HAD THE SAME EXPERIENCE IN THIRD GRADE ON MY HOOFSTOCK OF THE AFRICAN PLAINS REPORT.”<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't even have ONE :(</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Or how about all of the books we checked out at the library when we were kids? How we would walk in and the librarians would wilt in dread as we perused their pitiful Dolphin (or Whatever Animal You Are Obsessed With) section, frustrated that we uhhhhh already read all of those books in like a week, and when will Walden Elementary curate their cetacean reading to meet the standards of my needs?!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Then we get our first zoo job or internship, and realize that every single person on the staff is basically a PsychoNerd just like us. In fact, your insane devotion to animal species X is completely normal. It is not even mentioned. In fact, in the dolphin world, some places avoid the label as “Dolphin Hugger” like hepatitis (but the most fun, well-managed dolphin places usually are total dolphin huggers and don’t deny it!). You just show up to work like any ol’ job, hang out with your Favorite Critters, and then go home and eat whatever scraps you could afford at the grocery store and/or Big Lots.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">God can't they just call it underwear?! Seriously.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So the type of relationship you form with your coworkers is really special…even with those you wouldn’t necessarily consider a friend outside of work. And if you are a part of a really great team, I know that you probably laugh your proverbial balls off on a daily basis.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So what makes us laugh so heartily? Well, obviously the animals do hilarious things. Like the time Chubby, an older dolphin with a heart of gold and a brain of a dandelion, sat up IN FRONT OF HIS OWN SHADOW like that shadow was his trainer. Like, this dude just popped up at a perimeter wall, saw his shadow, opened his mouth in anticipation of snacks, and started offering behaviors. Lots of us were doubled-over laughing on that one.<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgde9c2oyqtQY0jPYkc1nNn78dUi9PBbmSvIk8VKhOCrpnvJAAbCmtSDaonejENLhSdTvxGWu96bW0cemxyyO7C9RnRG8I-F6EpzE1VUvur6I2PSOgYS7Xfk57lkiVrft-SJ_sPIHP4HX28/s1600/dolphinChubby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="403" data-original-width="604" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgde9c2oyqtQY0jPYkc1nNn78dUi9PBbmSvIk8VKhOCrpnvJAAbCmtSDaonejENLhSdTvxGWu96bW0cemxyyO7C9RnRG8I-F6EpzE1VUvur6I2PSOgYS7Xfk57lkiVrft-SJ_sPIHP4HX28/s320/dolphinChubby.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cute AND confusing</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Or realizing that the drain in the otter exhibit (you know, the one that takes the toxic-waste-otter-leavings to some other god foresaken place) is completely blocked and there is otter crap building up and smelling and attracting fire ants? And you try everything to unblock the drain, but the problem is the exhibit is not well-designed from a maintenance perspective so you can’t actually get to where the problem is…….</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">…..and then you discover the otters have been stuffing rocks, like zillions of freaking rocks from god knows where…..into the drain. And when everything is unclogged and cleaned, you can laugh (and boy, we did).<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTghj-Eq_mwSuUgjHK3YWtfLgtozzMiGhZpMe7MWpZzR3b7k7YQCs4jBHnpIZXwC3MeZ5NqODTCk24fvxuWqWgx3AVuDkkzAwGOv4H87kS9iBb5ASEsrUUap849jc32bvMzIjfwiXfhjG_/s1600/funny-evil-otter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="704" data-original-width="524" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTghj-Eq_mwSuUgjHK3YWtfLgtozzMiGhZpMe7MWpZzR3b7k7YQCs4jBHnpIZXwC3MeZ5NqODTCk24fvxuWqWgx3AVuDkkzAwGOv4H87kS9iBb5ASEsrUUap849jc32bvMzIjfwiXfhjG_/s320/funny-evil-otter.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most scientifically accurate meme of an otter, right here for YOUR viewing pleasure</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Wait wait wait, how about when during a sea lion show, when the narrator wasn’t talking and the audience was dead quiet, one of the sea lions released the wettest fart known to man, almost taking down her trainer with the odor that can only originate from the deepest, darkest bowels of pinnipeds?<br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">True story, cows broke into a woman's home and enjoyed themselves</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But we deal with ridiculous stuff that most people at most jobs would never even fathom. How about when I was doing an interaction program and random tampons started floating in the water? Or when I caused the entire two-story wetsuit-hanging shelving system to collapse? </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">You guys can probably spit out a ton of stories of when you and your coworkers had laughing fits that made you want to throw up. That is one of the most special things about our kind of job. It is something to remember when you are working with someone who maybe isn’t your favorite. Or when you are going through a tough time with whatever you’re dealing with at work. There are valid reasons to be frustrated or angry sometimes, but it is never a bad thing to remind yourself that, in spite of how crazy we can make each other, our coworkers are literally laughing their asses off with you. Routinely. That is pretty. Darn. Lucky. </span></div>
Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-55501167721566598072017-08-06T06:14:00.000-05:002017-08-06T06:14:11.906-05:00It's The Little Things (That Freak Us Out)<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">You guys. I had a dream last night that inspired this blog. In that dream, I got this idea, which resulted in the remainder of the dream being spent trying to operate my phone in order to open the Notes app to write down a blurb to remind me of the idea. But like all of my dreams that have to do with my phone, I CAN NEVER USE IT. Like WHAT IS THAT. I can’t run from monsters/bad guys in my nightmares, 911 is always busy, and I suddenly have completely worthless hands that cannot operate a touch screen on a cell phone.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">STAY AWAY</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So all of this hype basically means that I will now continue on to totally disappoint you with a relatively mundane (but, I’d argue, very important) topic that was important enough in my subconscious to bring forward. But then again, I have also dreamed about half-mice-half-women and also, frogs. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This blog, as well as countless other zookeeper-related social media posts, have addressed some of the major downsides to our job, including the really scary ones. Most of us have worked with animals who can kill us, via brute force, precise lethal blows/bites, venom or toxin. Most of us have major anxiety about locks and gates, or leaving potentially dangerous items in habitats that can be ingested. We worry endlessly about sick animals, pregnant animals, animals who look slightly off but probably are just a little constipated. These are the Real Fears of zookeeping.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But what about the OTHER things we freak out about on a daily basis? Are those tiny, insignificant worries not worth their own blog? According to my brain, it’s time we addressed them. The world should know what animal caretakers deal with emotionally. And frankly, all of you need to know that you’re not alone and/or effing insane.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Let’s take a look at the Top Ten Really Stupid Fears I had in my tenure as a marine mammal specialist.</span></div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">1. THE FEAR OF My Favorite Hose Nozzle Breaking<br /></span></b></u><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ain't no exhibit gettin clean with those kinks!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Oh. Oh. ANY zookeeper who uses a hose for any amount of cleaning is probably standing up and placing their hands over their hearts. There is nothing like walking into a sea lion-poopy (or, oh god, otter poo-slime) habitat and knowing that you have a baller hose that is basically 1 psi away from a fire hose. You KNOW that sh*t is getting clean. You feel like some kind of Doolittle AquaMan as you wield and manipulate jets of water like they are extensions of your own hands. You control where each water molecule goes, you dilute and rinse every soap bubble, every speck of disinfectant. You time yourself and know you can bang out a spotless exhibit in record time.<br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But then, your beloved nozzle breaks. Or, worse, another coworker gets “the good hose” before you get there. And then you’re left with the shriveled little hose, that is just left installed for posterity, that does not so much spray as it oozes water. This is the nozzle that would do a worse job than if you carried in a water fountain to clean up massive piles of sea lion crap. You’re going to be there for hours. Hours. And the entire time, the sea lions judge you. YOU judge you. You only need one experience with this pathetic, worthless nozzle to instill intense fear that THIS WILL HAPPEN AGAIN IF YOU ARE NOT ON YOUR GAME NEXT TIME.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Let’s not even talk about winter, when water lines freeze and you not only can’t clean the exhibit, but you slip and fall directly into a pile of whatever that brown goo is on pinniped teeth that they shoot everywhere like giant streams of snot. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><u><b><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">2. THE FEAR OF YELLOW FLIES</span></b></u><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Behold, for I bring you demons from hell</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Florida peeps, hear me. I moved to Maryland where the worst bug we get is a mosquito. Yeah, they carry some illnesses. But really, this is the safest place I have ever lived insect-wise (of course, I live right next to Baltimore City so it all evens out, safety-wise). But you guys have yellow flies. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br />Despite being utterly miserable working outside in freezing temperatures in Florida, despite wanting to be warm and enjoy not feeling like I was going to die, I still dreaded summertime when I worked as a dolphin trainer in the sunshine state. Why? Because the Yellow Flies liked summertime too. That is where our common ground ended. <br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">You see, *I* like summer time because it meant sun tans, sunset fishing on the beach, wearing nothing but a bathing suit all day, gardening, etc. Yellow Flies like summer because blood. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Now imagine your entire back covered in those</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br />I have never experienced pain from an animal like I have yellow flies. As a zoological expert, I can tell you that the mouth parts of yellow flies are composed of circle saws dipped in hydrofluoric acid. Unlike mosquitoes, which you may or may not feel biting you, yellow flies land quietly on the most inaccessible part of your body and perform major surgery in order to extract what seems like 89 liters of blood and at least one major organ.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br />I literally flipped out in complete, paralyzing fear anytime I saw these stupid mofos. You know how people react when a spider is on them? Or a bee or something? That is all of us in Yellow Fly country, except as zookeepers we are outside 90% of our day and usually have our attention and hands focused on something more important, like our own safety or the safety of our animals. The Yellow Flies know this and make their vicious attacks, leaving gigantic welts and PTSD in their wake. <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></div>
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<u><b><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">3. THE FEAR OF Forgetting Deodorant</span></b></u><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The internet understands</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">As a zookeeper, this is one of the worst mistakes you can make that does not result in anyone’s death. Although, I think I have come close to killing someone with my uh, Natural Scent after being in the sun for 10 hours with no deodorant. I AM SO SORRY.</span></div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">4. THE FEAR OF Being In A Wetsuit and Have To Pee. No, I lied. Number Two.</span></b></u><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too bad</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Yeah, they don’t tell you about this in the shamelessly-monetizing BE A DOLPHIN TRAINER books. But you will get hermetically sealed in a wetsuit. And then, just like when you played Ultimate Hide and Seek when you were a kid, you will have to take an enormous dump 5 minutes afterwards. This is especially true in the winter months, when you are wearing two or three layers of neoprene and require the Jaws of Life to get you out. Good luck if you had Chinese food the night before….<br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><u><b><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">5. THE FEAR OF Girl Problems<br /></span></b></u><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhv8quBcBctCYICY4c0zJW7C0iH0T6r-oH9i0870NjFiVpy-34HmWxFFWUSNPhJvEB1RC0lOgaQSJDpvPFfLfYT2fdw19Mx_Ct3ewKXf5Psg4HcvhuNoEACqGKNq0zK62o01ojSEFXi0OI/s1600/period-problems-61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhv8quBcBctCYICY4c0zJW7C0iH0T6r-oH9i0870NjFiVpy-34HmWxFFWUSNPhJvEB1RC0lOgaQSJDpvPFfLfYT2fdw19Mx_Ct3ewKXf5Psg4HcvhuNoEACqGKNq0zK62o01ojSEFXi0OI/s320/period-problems-61.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Except you have to drive a front loader today</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Not to be gross, but we are all scientists here. We are biological experts. And we know what happens to human and naked mole rat females on a monthly basis. I distinctly remember standing next to one of the dolphin habitats in my bathing suit and rash guard, listening to a supervisor go over our plan for the next round of sessions when all of a sudden….I knew something bad was going down. I knew I had at most, 30 seconds to address it. So when my (male) supervisor looked at me and said, “Okay Cat, here is your role, go do it right now” I looked at him, my heart racing and anxiety through the roof, and said something like, “NO I CAN’T RIGHT NOW” and just ran away. I was so terrified of what was happening to me that I didn't even care if I got in trouble. Because you know what, I was sparing my supervisor some Night Of The Living Dead stuff. <br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZxgYjzDkhz5Lv-nSuGU5dSyqbQqmibHe_F3jhR5dxLR8r1nRSqFBaZ8pFTz4EYABulwWdB6rXdf91Ys3aWxgA3SaOE4LDMMkWx9VloE0N89acpvoTI7S0586rRx4WXcEc0bxW0gXK-cJ/s1600/c5371865b4e3d7b1051d23b7bd1c1add--period-funny-period-humor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZxgYjzDkhz5Lv-nSuGU5dSyqbQqmibHe_F3jhR5dxLR8r1nRSqFBaZ8pFTz4EYABulwWdB6rXdf91Ys3aWxgA3SaOE4LDMMkWx9VloE0N89acpvoTI7S0586rRx4WXcEc0bxW0gXK-cJ/s320/c5371865b4e3d7b1051d23b7bd1c1add--period-funny-period-humor.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Girl, I feel you</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br />Woe betide those of us who have had khaki uniforms…..</span></div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">6. THE FEAR OF Reading Your Work Schedule Wrong</span></b></u><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WE HAVE ALL BEEN THERE</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><br /></span>Shift work is hard to keep track of, even if your manager is amazing at scheduling consistency. You know that your week is not always going to look the same. Who else has dealt with Excel-based work schedules? Who else has worked on a team with more than ten people on it? Who else has looked at the wrong column and showed up at the wrong shift time because they did not have Golden Eagle Vision? </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />The fear I experienced about misreading the schedule was instilled deeply in me after an experience I had as a mid-level trainer. I was sitting in bed, hanging out with my cockatiel Lennon, reading a book. I was enjoying my morning before a later shift (11-7:30), which was especially needed because I had horrendous tonsillitis. Around 8:45, I got a call from my supervisor asking why I didn't show up for my 8:30 shift. Furthermore, I was scheduled on the 9:15 dolphin swim. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THIS</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />I flew out the door and made it to work in time, panicking that I had made a Terrible Mistake That Would Totally Get Me Fired. Luckily, that fear took my mind off of the feeling like I was swallowing shards of glass. But I sure did develop an OCD habit of checking and rechecking and rechecking and rechecking and rechecking the schedule</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><u><b><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">7. THE FEAR OF Speaking To Guests In A Language I Took in Middle School 17 Years Ago<br /></span></b></u><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGK3mE_KIHJ0TQqNf2DnUUBl1FIYCFztBUsBKyjegIFozZJd-AYI2_6OktNe5NNr0lz7hUdrLQ48iRnAtRlBiz-pm4CO7n6KsxndEABjFoAQ1LX4f5dxTRhlePOhe0ZyakhnTMGABkP_y/s1600/4ef43afe559fc33f909bde539214a8c7--danish-language-funny-quotes-about-friends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="682" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGK3mE_KIHJ0TQqNf2DnUUBl1FIYCFztBUsBKyjegIFozZJd-AYI2_6OktNe5NNr0lz7hUdrLQ48iRnAtRlBiz-pm4CO7n6KsxndEABjFoAQ1LX4f5dxTRhlePOhe0ZyakhnTMGABkP_y/s640/4ef43afe559fc33f909bde539214a8c7--danish-language-funny-quotes-about-friends.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You're welcome. </td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">“Hey Cat! We have guests from France who only speak French! You speak French, right?”<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span><br /><br />*Heart lurches into my throat, butterflies flap wildly in stomach, intestines stop working* “Uh, yes, in high school 35 decades ago”</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span><br />“GREAT! Here they are!”</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And then a horribly embarrassing exchange would ensue, in which my foreign guests would attempt to speak English to me after hearing my pathetic attempt and probably ruined their entire vacation, where they would return to Paris or whatever and tell their friends, “Oh, we had this well-intentioned girl with the intelligence of foot fungus guide our dolphin swim.”</span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">8. THE FEAR OF Forgetting My Lunch</span></u></b><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#forgotlunch</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This is simple. We burn 90926892368236 calories a day. If you forget your lunch at most aquariums, your choice is to eat french fries the snack bar bought from Walmart 9 years ago, or eat ice cubes from the fish kitchen’s ice machine until your shift ends when you can eat Chinese food in large quantities. </span></div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">9. THE FEAR OF Weather n’ Wildfires</span></b></u><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">UNLESS YOU ARE A DOLPHIN TRAINER. THEN YOU HAVE TO STAY OUTSIDE</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br /><br />I’ve never been afraid of thunderstorms until I was required to work outside in them. Also, wildfires that blew ash all over everything. Red Tides. </span></div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">10. THE FEAR OF Gastric Samples <br /></span></b></u><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxKxq86ZDzAN8cGZfW3PReWKeNOjr9mja2LbHJIw-aF4HVjUZEKKkoo3x0uWt-iMhOl8T_A2DWvBBlrh24Kksb9zW8GAJ6JWGOyBgyqE41CSdk42g7Ibxe_kaaTqxEg-9ZT0c_Acy5zblS/s1600/1929781_10101880040874921_7994977312486292560_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="708" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxKxq86ZDzAN8cGZfW3PReWKeNOjr9mja2LbHJIw-aF4HVjUZEKKkoo3x0uWt-iMhOl8T_A2DWvBBlrh24Kksb9zW8GAJ6JWGOyBgyqE41CSdk42g7Ibxe_kaaTqxEg-9ZT0c_Acy5zblS/s320/1929781_10101880040874921_7994977312486292560_n.jpg" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's all fun and games until the dolphin volunteers the Sacred Fluid</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />This is more specific to dolphin trainers who take their own gastric samples. I know some of you suck on the end of the tube (you guys are, and I say this with love, seriously insane and do you realize you do NOT need to do that????), and you guys probably experience this specific fear more often than the rest of us. But…there is really no fear as compares to inserting a tube into the mouth of a dolphin who is just ready to blow out every ounce of gastric fluid they have directly into your face, onto your shoulder, or (for you crazies) into your mouth. Directly. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKve_zLEglhkcuX5-JKCDoJHsOiUSSpWY3RA8P18WXs8d7Ez5qyRnvmjicOj-1lufVTX8-tz9hL9ByCG_jUDuK9w3MCr0YFotRAPSrtkx815RzIxi357T5hBzfWTU7dBKRzL_tAGnUdmtE/s1600/tenor.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="309" data-original-width="500" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKve_zLEglhkcuX5-JKCDoJHsOiUSSpWY3RA8P18WXs8d7Ez5qyRnvmjicOj-1lufVTX8-tz9hL9ByCG_jUDuK9w3MCr0YFotRAPSrtkx815RzIxi357T5hBzfWTU7dBKRzL_tAGnUdmtE/s320/tenor.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THIS IS IT EXACTLY</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I have seen dead animals. I have fallen in blood, poop, pee. I have gotten pus in my face. I have had weeks worth of otter poop poured over my head. I have used limb loppers to cute sea lion ribs. There is not a lot that grosses me out. But gastric fluid shooting onto my shirt? AHHHHHHHHHH</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So, friends, those are just a handful of the fears and unpleasantries I experienced as a dolphin trainer. But now let’s hear some of yours!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"></span>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-36376587428585770902017-07-30T06:14:00.000-05:002017-07-30T06:14:05.313-05:00Photo Evidence, Zoos, and YOU<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You guys, I just realized something.<br /><br />I know that I have never really been firmly in the "All Zoos Are Good Zoos" camp, and I have also never been in the anti-zoo camp, either. But generally speaking, I am pro-zoo/aquarium, provided the animals' well-being is truly the first priority, and not just a talking point we throw out to our guests. <br /><br />I also like to think that I am a critical thinker in most scenarios, except at most mealtimes. Like, some people lose their inhibitions after a certain amount of alcohol is consumed, but pretty much the sight of mac and cheese renders me completely unable to process any further external stimuli. <br /><br />But I digress. In many instances, I try to take what I read with a grain of salt, even if I am of the same opinion as the author. I am definitely not perfect at this, but I actively try. I also feel like I am a pretty introspective person, come hell or high water. I could do a 593-part blog series on my character flaws and still have content to write. <br /><br />So imagine my terror and surprise when I read the most recent "Check Out These Photos Of Sad Animals In Zoos" articles, thinking I would see the same-old images, and feel the same-old "yeah but..." feelings. Except, this time, I had a totally different reaction.<br /><br />Unfortunately, I realized that my entire life has been a lie. What I thought was real, well, isn't. In fact, as I read the article, images in my OWN life popped into my mind and I wondered, "My GOD, have I been blind to the Truth all of this time?"<br /><br />Let me show you what I mean.</span><br /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN99gHzJpjFSIeuy6k0_HJaNjr9sVqTzlnVKXV4pdjYsWB47C49V8EeZbly9vedbEgKhHYwM0u-TpAovOZGYDWUS9MorzvDpayeHR9AtxvRftwrWU7r86DgunDBxBA-pjDzuBVwrtMrO0K/s1600/14570450_1425495940801351_5944209169888580182_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN99gHzJpjFSIeuy6k0_HJaNjr9sVqTzlnVKXV4pdjYsWB47C49V8EeZbly9vedbEgKhHYwM0u-TpAovOZGYDWUS9MorzvDpayeHR9AtxvRftwrWU7r86DgunDBxBA-pjDzuBVwrtMrO0K/s320/14570450_1425495940801351_5944209169888580182_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I thought my daughter was a human being. But here is irrefutable photographic evidence that she is actually a candy corn. HOW COULD I BE SO BLIND.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<br /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Some of these Truths are not necessarily bad. Some of them are pretty cool. The more I searched through the photos of my life, the more I found.<br /><br />Did you know I was a Ghostbuster?</span><br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizu4X0428-5KpD39-8haTlwFk4gy8aQABE7BqNbLs9Gk553P5o2NWw3DEcdJQ2xGMQ-nDFtrNxI_YbkIk51MHDtAiRCzsgqfThba8bUlOWmaEQyRlByRjuud01UM_v0Pp-tsJEAn7XT4hB/s1600/18199258_10102625980031871_3944979678214014457_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="523" data-original-width="928" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizu4X0428-5KpD39-8haTlwFk4gy8aQABE7BqNbLs9Gk553P5o2NWw3DEcdJQ2xGMQ-nDFtrNxI_YbkIk51MHDtAiRCzsgqfThba8bUlOWmaEQyRlByRjuud01UM_v0Pp-tsJEAn7XT4hB/s400/18199258_10102625980031871_3944979678214014457_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo. Proof. </td></tr>
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<br /><br /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And that I am married to Chris Hemsworth?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqy4Oh8OI5sEQ0HxZdP88Uc0pxDtElQl85M1FQco6ALwuGSb_7efBJRfZvP35VsCx343uT0TyfXUmj2bArLPKBz-9RkgRvT4aJKM6JVtRFSXce_80Lk-sU96EfcRABTyUlzpseHoI1TAir/s1600/18221940_10102625979991951_3315493331179836309_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="448" data-original-width="597" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqy4Oh8OI5sEQ0HxZdP88Uc0pxDtElQl85M1FQco6ALwuGSb_7efBJRfZvP35VsCx343uT0TyfXUmj2bArLPKBz-9RkgRvT4aJKM6JVtRFSXce_80Lk-sU96EfcRABTyUlzpseHoI1TAir/s400/18221940_10102625979991951_3315493331179836309_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He is the luckiest.</td></tr>
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<br /><br /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Oh! Oh and that I killed one of my previous coworkers?</span><br /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggr7RQ1JGTGjwFLh0ijTugarzjTndgCk4P0hWDAIo8Z8nM1BO0zTqmsUdZw8ta1tlZDy5J2dBcAASXUxf7YITsl37FTj9M3vFitzAPv020_eWNBXnxM3eGXFK6kK-XfQkkp4GPGavRQlDy/s1600/14448856_906145425619_1689069320922934720_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggr7RQ1JGTGjwFLh0ijTugarzjTndgCk4P0hWDAIo8Z8nM1BO0zTqmsUdZw8ta1tlZDy5J2dBcAASXUxf7YITsl37FTj9M3vFitzAPv020_eWNBXnxM3eGXFK6kK-XfQkkp4GPGavRQlDy/s400/14448856_906145425619_1689069320922934720_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Far right. I'm a homicidal maniac.</td></tr>
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<br /><br /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was in the Russian ballet for a while.</span><br /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD354ksJslbddSsrVNYAWvml9FicfEJf3G_BSDo6Y1Kgje3QIW8P5KYzuGXBtObIQ6pSsdg5Ehq2qg7fO-sbKlHnot7FSeBHXCWzaqP88reo5yhvl-puLgl0zDkyfwu2Q46DmWOjhQFn_i/s1600/1545876_10152090320503225_4954758684765916633_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="352" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD354ksJslbddSsrVNYAWvml9FicfEJf3G_BSDo6Y1Kgje3QIW8P5KYzuGXBtObIQ6pSsdg5Ehq2qg7fO-sbKlHnot7FSeBHXCWzaqP88reo5yhvl-puLgl0zDkyfwu2Q46DmWOjhQFn_i/s320/1545876_10152090320503225_4954758684765916633_n.jpg" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GOD I look good in a tiara.</td></tr>
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<br /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />Okay, let's be serious for a second. This anti-zooish article I am talking about has some photos of things I think we would all agree are not really best practices. Like the image of a gray seal with balloons around his exhibit? F-<br /><br />But the point of the article obviously focuses the reader's attention on a very slim perspective. There are a lot of what I think are helpful positions on this topic, even if they are contrary to what many of us would agree with. There are a few great rebuttals to this article, so I won't go into more depth on this topic. But there is one photo I wanted to point out.</span><br /><br /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK9uOWpmOqK2KjWkhwhQu6yPlOtokw-z9bJAF9z12HV-nS_JuyYicYbE_zmIVwQgW8kNgthK3TzeHlhjia71Re7qrRS2yB4VvC_kS03xfXTUUqjN9E3Wdt-TzSLEA24pwFGNUccv98jhLd/s1600/imrs.php.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="987" data-original-width="1484" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK9uOWpmOqK2KjWkhwhQu6yPlOtokw-z9bJAF9z12HV-nS_JuyYicYbE_zmIVwQgW8kNgthK3TzeHlhjia71Re7qrRS2yB4VvC_kS03xfXTUUqjN9E3Wdt-TzSLEA24pwFGNUccv98jhLd/s320/imrs.php.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Jo-Anne McArthur's photo of a giraffe in a German zoo, located next to an Ikea.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's hard to reason that, ideally, a captive giraffe would have nothing but savannah to look at in his/her top-notch zoo exhibit. Or, like other fantastic zoos without limitless funds, have a great exhibit surrounded by native trees. But the fact is, animals in the wild encounter manmade shenanigans all the time....and usually in a sinister setting. That is not to say that one should change their opinion based on ONE photo, but I think all of us animal lovers (pro-zoo or not) could agree that there is a serious need for conservation outreach....the majority of which happens in zoos.</span><br /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevEVPXxpEPx4Ja9rfkXZyTnZdhpaED8iRweC3Ih0V_lQm0qm2gzExhyphenhyphenzb3g2Dec3UPOoCg7-xpiJcdLR2hMbZiSaZ0zbR30wJ8XugH5WekSu3Y1hX4vwXl-6EwoPhtZFONLiOzD1dOul5/s1600/nc5tAfD65JiJn6bcRLVVNQbm.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1500" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevEVPXxpEPx4Ja9rfkXZyTnZdhpaED8iRweC3Ih0V_lQm0qm2gzExhyphenhyphenzb3g2Dec3UPOoCg7-xpiJcdLR2hMbZiSaZ0zbR30wJ8XugH5WekSu3Y1hX4vwXl-6EwoPhtZFONLiOzD1dOul5/s400/nc5tAfD65JiJn6bcRLVVNQbm.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The famous (infamous?) photo of wild orcas with a delightful industrial backdrop</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />Many of us know that the facilities we work at or support do literally everything possible to ensure the animals under our care live happy, healthy lives. Many of us get really upset when we see articles showing unfavorable aspects of our (well, now YOUR) livelihood and life's work. <br /><br />But instead of just rebutting the article, or sharing it on Facebook, we can't stop there. We also can't immediately reject these kinds of opinions, because there is an element of truth to them in some situations. We are concerned with animal rights activists taking hold of our field and destroying it. But I think many of us also know that not all zoos are created equally. Some of us work in places that we know needs change, but are too afraid (or exhausted) to bring up our ideas. <br /><br />Use the negative press as a catalyst for debate amongst OURSELVES. We do not need to be united on every aspect; we need the freedom to engage in thoughtful critique of our animal management methodologies, exhibit design, training philosophy, and staff development. The places that do some or all of these things well often have a lot to contribute. The places that do not have these things well-organized often are chalk full of passionate, intelligent zookeepers just bursting at the seams to implement some amazingly positive change. We are already pro-zoo, but that doesn't mean we are anti-change. Talk to each other.<br /><br />Whoa. Got a little heavy there, didn't it? <br /><br />Let's leave it on some more AMAZING and NEVER BEFORE SEEN photographs that will just totally turn your world upside-down.</span><br /><br />
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<br /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You're welcome.</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span><br /><br /><br />
<br /><br /><br />Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-21693533680959215702017-07-23T07:40:00.000-05:002017-07-23T07:53:26.950-05:00Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Days: Part 1<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">There are a number of causes of Bad Days At Work, even for a seemingly glamorous job like a zookeeper.<br /><br /> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglzrlkFriNepLDmjTyK9fPthnbpnZBgKOEBGzRtmFNY1GBH44PDqGmf9jTRebOIkcJzzPG1jZfMcLxDA7ZqcLtgQ3ZdFtc8ys4iBd8Mmf9A13zHYee9T6jF_CHVl-qSVvbv0XPTN9nMAiJ/s1600/bad-day_o_368131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="411" data-original-width="500" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglzrlkFriNepLDmjTyK9fPthnbpnZBgKOEBGzRtmFNY1GBH44PDqGmf9jTRebOIkcJzzPG1jZfMcLxDA7ZqcLtgQ3ZdFtc8ys4iBd8Mmf9A13zHYee9T6jF_CHVl-qSVvbv0XPTN9nMAiJ/s320/bad-day_o_368131.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Okay, please tell me why it's okay to refer to septic systems as honey pots (hint: "irony" is not an acceptable answer)</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The general public probably thinks our bad days entail at least one of the following components:</span></div>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Poop</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Getting a light sunburn</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Animal deaths</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Not getting licked (or whatever behavioral sign of affection innate to the animal in your care) enough</span></li>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But really, the only item on that list that really makes a horrendous day is #3, which is not what I am going to focus on in today’s blog.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">No, I am going to focus on those really horrible, no good, bad days that pop up out of nowhere and rain chaos and sorrow DESPITE nobody being really sick or dying. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLYc4VnryHjf060NWCecQe7sb8F0n1iK-Yen28rVzjs1y5QHbuNzE8M0Udh0HCKwgeZl9JO9G3YrJfUGbwGXZdE8uQDyEVO7X83YS9PWOUcxzgEVuIoTyz22pE4JKzq-jyptIf7JDEbkrI/s1600/funny-pictures-someone-is-having-a-bad-day.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLYc4VnryHjf060NWCecQe7sb8F0n1iK-Yen28rVzjs1y5QHbuNzE8M0Udh0HCKwgeZl9JO9G3YrJfUGbwGXZdE8uQDyEVO7X83YS9PWOUcxzgEVuIoTyz22pE4JKzq-jyptIf7JDEbkrI/s320/funny-pictures-someone-is-having-a-bad-day.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*raises hand*</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">In fact, let’s revisit a list of potential Bad Day contributors. I would like to amend it slighty. Bad Days for me consist of:</span></div>
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<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Getting poop directly in facial orifices (yes, I had to specify)</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Scuba diving in three feet of stagnant water that is filled with dolphin poop and algae and has not been filtered or otherwise moved in THREE DAYS OH GOD I AM ALREADY BARFING JUST THINKING ABOUT IT</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Lip sunburn. It’s a thing. And it’s a thing that haunts your every meal for months</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Animal deaths, obviously :(</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Getting bitten, fluked, charged, or taken on a lengthy Tour Of The Underwater Drains by a sea mammal larger and smarter than me</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Fire ants. </span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Fire ants trapped in my bathing suit</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Being in relatively unsafe conditions, like getting wrapped in a net underwater that resulted in someone’s finger being pulled off</span></li>
<li style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Bringing a really dumb lunch</span></li>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The list goes on.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI1v2Q6S6na7htlqCQyWguhs8zAIc3BuKxOadJ5b_FD5pqXFCnsS-FYxmmceKhSrhdVgev932_1bsU54XRFCymjXiR4e2WIQZfKf1ecF3wZKHOmFm9HQUOldoUz-tP1j5FLmg7HKqWVu0U/s1600/image15.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="640" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI1v2Q6S6na7htlqCQyWguhs8zAIc3BuKxOadJ5b_FD5pqXFCnsS-FYxmmceKhSrhdVgev932_1bsU54XRFCymjXiR4e2WIQZfKf1ecF3wZKHOmFm9HQUOldoUz-tP1j5FLmg7HKqWVu0U/s320/image15.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sad, sad little lunch</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But one of the the worst non-animal-related days of my animal career was at the very beginning. And I'm writing about it now, because I think you'll get a laugh, AND I am no longer in the field, AND I am pretty sure the statute of limitations will cover any unintentionally illegal component of this story. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This day was the day I Almost Killed A Bunch Of People With Scuba Tanks. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">When I was at my first place of employment, I had the pleasure of wielding a “pickup truck” during fish delivery in the mornings. I say wielding because to use the verb “drive” in this context is entirely misleading. Also, this vehicle was, in a previous life (roughly 29 zillion years ago) a pickup truck. By the time I encountered it, it was basically a pile of rusted metal on four-ish wheels that ran on </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Black Magic and</span> an engine trying to die .</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphen1tyulo79G-KysnbPpkyQMLKyha4CCo3DXBhpAS7tHscuokinsD8Bu37UT9SnDKvd5N0KDBEtb0RJ2jnf-Pt6ujJwCAXELJ6IIq5GmSWjNp0E9XD4bo4NBBPYnFzXoD4PVJKI66pkHZd/s1600/0607st-08-z%252Bwrecking-yards%252B1960-truck-model.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="495" data-original-width="660" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphen1tyulo79G-KysnbPpkyQMLKyha4CCo3DXBhpAS7tHscuokinsD8Bu37UT9SnDKvd5N0KDBEtb0RJ2jnf-Pt6ujJwCAXELJ6IIq5GmSWjNp0E9XD4bo4NBBPYnFzXoD4PVJKI66pkHZd/s320/0607st-08-z%252Bwrecking-yards%252B1960-truck-model.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh! Here it is!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">My department was responsible for removing frozen flats of fish from the thaw room and delivering it to every marine mammal department in the park. This meant loading thousands of pounds of frozen fish into the bed of this Death Truck and somehow, through consistent religious practice, getting it to move from points A to B to C and D without losing too many parts and/or lives.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Because this event happened early in the morning before the park opened, and it was not operated on any actual roads, the task of handling the truck was done with light-hearted humor and a mixture of terror that you would get thrown into the steering wheel because the driver seat did not actually fix into one position. It slid forwards and backwards with little outside force, but I was not a physicist and figured this was an old truck and/or a poltergeist was involved.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">We oft joked about what it would be like to drive The Truck on the real road. Yes, the driver seat slid like a rowing machine. Yes, there were no side view mirrors. The brakes didn't always work when you thought they would (such as when you hit the brake pedal). The engine made a noise akin to a wolverine being skinned alive but generally did what you asked it too, like drive 5 mph. I mean, I think it was 5mph, because the speedometer didn't work. But the best part about this glorious vehicle was its tail gate fell off when it was met with force from three or more atoms moving against any part of it.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGLYvGK0O_hr_DuOjTkXi04WR3r8fzgSWcGQS-oYFuiSxNcCtlOwMbmupAl-PGaGMhQ0_2iwZtcuuACg59Qkyxvkg0UDtx92PQid7XNOVqTSFu0RLb5W5GyDZ7-Fysb86UB0OE_wLW4my/s1600/featured.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="960" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGLYvGK0O_hr_DuOjTkXi04WR3r8fzgSWcGQS-oYFuiSxNcCtlOwMbmupAl-PGaGMhQ0_2iwZtcuuACg59Qkyxvkg0UDtx92PQid7XNOVqTSFu0RLb5W5GyDZ7-Fysb86UB0OE_wLW4my/s400/featured.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah. If you sold five of these fish house trucks, you still couldn't afford a footlong sub at Subway.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The tail gate issue was not a huge deal during fish truck delivery, because you drove really slowly with the fish boxes piled in the back. But we all wondered, what would happen if you drove this truck at highway speed? </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">And then, I found out.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">My then-boss asked me to take empty scuba cylinders to a dive shop a few minutes away from the aquarium, and then return with several filled ones. They asked me to do this with a coworker of mine (who shall herein be referred to as Famous Coworker, since he knew every celebrity and was on the Real World several years later) , who had been at the park roughly 8 months longer than me and had done this before. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Long story short, when we asked 1) how many tanks we were to be transporting and 2) HOW we would get them there, we were met with these answers (in corresponding order):</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">…</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53Piogaqe7BKkapQu36LM9eKjBVvbZLBOOz997uyWY3u6LMne9ProQelPQerU1RrZDDKSy0VnaXQgavob_dfY3rAhdX6hyphenhyphenOlCyGRqHxLVX4ZTu33OliDIG-LyX2J4zHQDk1BjoT9nxWpT/s1600/tenor.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="243" data-original-width="500" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53Piogaqe7BKkapQu36LM9eKjBVvbZLBOOz997uyWY3u6LMne9ProQelPQerU1RrZDDKSy0VnaXQgavob_dfY3rAhdX6hyphenhyphenOlCyGRqHxLVX4ZTu33OliDIG-LyX2J4zHQDk1BjoT9nxWpT/s400/tenor.gif" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, but they were.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">We both stood in stunned silence. This was not the type of workplace where you could easily share your grievances, but we figured we heard wrong. Surely, there must be another truck. One that is fit for highway travel. One that has a speedometer or mirrors or something.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Nope, nope, nope. It was The Truck. And they saw no reason not to take it, they just said to drive it slow (the highway we needed to take was…um, a highway). Plus, they reasoned, it wasn't very far.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Famous Coworker offered to drive his new truck, since it had enough room. No, no, our boss insisted. The fish truck was fine, they used it last week for this purpose and everything was fine. Just DO IT.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Now I know what you reasonable people are thinking. WHY, oh WHY didn't you just assert yourselves? Why would you voluntarily get into such a terrible Death Car knowing that it was a huge safety risk? I can only say, I was 22, terrified of most management, and believed I wouldn't knowingly be asked to do something really unsafe.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So off Famous Coworker and I go, to pick up the tanks. We chuckled while pooing our pants the first time the tail gate fell off at the security booth as we loaded up the tanks. We had nothing to secure them with, but were instructed by senior staff to just stack them “real tight” in the bed of the truck. We had just the right number to wedge them into a sort of pyramid (the tanks were on their sides, because you know, for safety), and we were given a few cinder blocks to keep them in place, just to be Extra Safe.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekB4RxpkmplSB06Pw21G8_N0wakbtgpUL-NFOQL2_GgMSpfPfmy1nVmB2i9NUVHmdPL9x6LmJreu2f_a3gJfpG3Ym_2C3UUswqrf1kFl_xdeVhn5pjXEzrTzqiWBq3zhgn3j50SP7T_Uh/s1600/Unsafe+Ladder.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="567" data-original-width="460" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekB4RxpkmplSB06Pw21G8_N0wakbtgpUL-NFOQL2_GgMSpfPfmy1nVmB2i9NUVHmdPL9x6LmJreu2f_a3gJfpG3Ym_2C3UUswqrf1kFl_xdeVhn5pjXEzrTzqiWBq3zhgn3j50SP7T_Uh/s400/Unsafe+Ladder.jpeg" width="323" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is slightly more safe than what we had going for us</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I had to drive (another long story), so I drove at about 7mm per hour (yes, millimeters) through the parking lot. My heart was pounding in my chest as I turned out of the parking lot onto the busy highway that would take us to the dive shop. I would’ve put the hazards on, because I was driving so slowly and was just convinced at any minute, the tail gate would fall off. But you know, those hazard lights didn’t work! What an adventure!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">However, we made it to the dive shop a couple of miles away without any drama. We unloaded the empties, and began grabbing the full tanks. We realized quickly that there were a different number of tanks we would be bringing back…which meant they would not fit tightly together in the bed of the truck. Famous Coworker and I worked hard to figure out how to secure the tanks, but at least three of them would roll around a little between cinder blocks. Still, the dive shop worker told us we should just drive “kinda slow” but that we would be okay.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyddCfYh9wjR6N21SKFnBoydMr9febkMvYFDwPDTPrxh4zEfwujNT93N8EftYifIwXLuXvIX455ERslUEZepYAEnFo62zVGaz5ZjQ6BMzZjJDNoQ8xX3szKgdRQPlnvl2fJ43w1H7QAvfV/s1600/c4jt321.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="282" data-original-width="580" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyddCfYh9wjR6N21SKFnBoydMr9febkMvYFDwPDTPrxh4zEfwujNT93N8EftYifIwXLuXvIX455ERslUEZepYAEnFo62zVGaz5ZjQ6BMzZjJDNoQ8xX3szKgdRQPlnvl2fJ43w1H7QAvfV/s320/c4jt321.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A visual mantra for marine mammal trainers everywhere</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So we get into the truck. I slowly make a wide loop in the dive shop parking lot, preparing for a left-hand turn onto a highway which has a 45mph speed limit but a common speed of roughly E=MC2. I figured that if something bad was going to happen, it would happen in that turn. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, bracing myself for the front seat to do its slidey thing and praying that the brakes would work if I needed. I took a deep breath, eased my foot onto the accelerator, turned the steering wheel and….</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihALz7p3wvBsUhCN4fZ1hVYQ05FQrwG_TXQwfFz0iZimu7iRjFLpkf8n-a43Di3_5FBpPm3STab5fJ7UV6cJ-Dn12q1ocWQLD5T1byRyvrZCsA-GQu8mIrKT9zsngW_YHCDCfLHSz5EMGS/s1600/200.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihALz7p3wvBsUhCN4fZ1hVYQ05FQrwG_TXQwfFz0iZimu7iRjFLpkf8n-a43Di3_5FBpPm3STab5fJ7UV6cJ-Dn12q1ocWQLD5T1byRyvrZCsA-GQu8mIrKT9zsngW_YHCDCfLHSz5EMGS/s1600/200.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...........</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">….turned successfully (albeit very, very slowly) onto the highway. I drove maddeningly slow about 3/4ths of the way back to the aquarium, all without incident. Then, I saw the turn lane back into the aquarium parking lot up ahead. I wanted to get into the left left earlier than I normally would, because I didn't want to make any sudden stops or accelerate too quickly if I waited too long to make the turn. I especially didn't want to bust a U. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I got into the left lane, silently apologizing to the cars that would quickly approach me and probably curse me and several generations of my family for operating a vehicle at speeds that are almost legally allowable for justifiable homicide. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">We were inching along, the turn lane now in sight, and</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: red;"><u><b>****Trigger warning for Dive Safety Officers: you will have a heart attack if you read any further*******</b></u></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_-hTDzdY-xy5t_1euZhPo26MKsknpJkiYVtVPgDbEZF3B91ugVXr3UjcXzRIbVWjfHNWJ1p8EeY2bBhnMG5pz8sxYW2QJXR1eXL9g4IqcLc5-n7cosHHhiga1o03MhtC0mRv3rsDiDUP/s1600/lookaway.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="187" data-original-width="498" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_-hTDzdY-xy5t_1euZhPo26MKsknpJkiYVtVPgDbEZF3B91ugVXr3UjcXzRIbVWjfHNWJ1p8EeY2bBhnMG5pz8sxYW2QJXR1eXL9g4IqcLc5-n7cosHHhiga1o03MhtC0mRv3rsDiDUP/s640/lookaway.gif" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FINAL WARNING</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">BAM BAM THE TRUCK LURCHES UP AND DOWN AND I AM SLIDING IN MY SEAT AND MORE LOUD NOISES AND NOW THE HONKING OF CARS THAT ARE NOT ME </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I LOOK IN MY SIDE VIEW MIRRORS EXCEPT WHOOPS THEY ARE NOT THERE</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">SO I LOOK IN MY REAR VIEW MIRROR AND AND AND AND</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">THERE. ON THE ROAD? THE TAIL GATE. IT IS SLIDING ON THE ROAD AND SPARKS ARE FLYING</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">OH ALSO THERE ARE SCUBA TANKS ROLLING AROUND AND BOUNCING OVER SIX LANES OF TRAFFIC</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">OH ALSO THERE ARE CARS VEERING AROUND THE TANKS.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swearing is necessary for this</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The tanks are scattered and bouncing and rolling everywhere and I start to stop right where I am but before the car stops Famous Coworker lets out this banshee death scream and he is out the door running across a HIGHWAY towards these bouncing, FULL scuba tanks, and he is still screaming and I am also screaming and I am pretty sure someone is going to die.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I get out of the car and yell some swear words as I run towards some tanks, running on pure adrenaline and stupidity, and help Famous Coworker pick them up, help reattach the tail gate (we had had plenty of practice with that) and then we get back into the truck and stare at each other.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6vfd-J4l1qmue-y-kMWOHiU9pe3IYWHQP_lgWvD5kodvOcO_5jHqTcRMQOrWTxU9-Q9jCPgGNx4VmffZbvCHP58T8QhdyMxzU4P6VfQ4z1wdJ1nv1kYyp5hdumWffckA39vDqMILBRt6r/s1600/suspensekc.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6vfd-J4l1qmue-y-kMWOHiU9pe3IYWHQP_lgWvD5kodvOcO_5jHqTcRMQOrWTxU9-Q9jCPgGNx4VmffZbvCHP58T8QhdyMxzU4P6VfQ4z1wdJ1nv1kYyp5hdumWffckA39vDqMILBRt6r/s1600/suspensekc.gif" /></a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">“We are going to get fired,” Famous Coworker said.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I don't even remember what I said, if anything. I was pissed. I was terrified. We could’ve killed someone.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">As I pull into the park, I see one of the park operations managers standing near the back entrance, waving us down, red in the face. He yelled at us for spilling scuba tanks on the highway. I yelled at him for not having a proper vehicle to pick up tanks, like actually YELLED, and then I drove away before he could speak.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEFrLWao6z-BNz08poUBZaIdcGOwmXxUqAII5AHayOsGiwcBPx8ceY8yc2Yt_U32xT630PaO7bad4HL0aJkrsNlBicnRGv6v6V_Uk-V9hXgeiFlQqM41TE18Rdi2RKOgp3aZsJc-4Ku5V/s1600/arnold-yawn-scream.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="351" data-original-width="720" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEFrLWao6z-BNz08poUBZaIdcGOwmXxUqAII5AHayOsGiwcBPx8ceY8yc2Yt_U32xT630PaO7bad4HL0aJkrsNlBicnRGv6v6V_Uk-V9hXgeiFlQqM41TE18Rdi2RKOgp3aZsJc-4Ku5V/s400/arnold-yawn-scream.gif" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arnold gets it</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">We unloaded the tanks, several of them hissing now, trying to alert whoever (??) would be in charge of making sure they didn't explode. I unloaded my anger and fear to everyone I could find, boss or not, unable to contain myself. The only response I really remember was hearing from another senior person that they were surprised I was allowed to take the fish house truck on the highway, because the same thing happened to other trainers a few weeks ago, but it happened to them in a parking lot.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This was the first time in my life I totally understood the phrase “spitting mad”. I was pissed at myself for not standing up for what I KNEW was a bad idea. I was pissed at my bosses, and their bosses. I literally could not do anything except breathe occasionally and wonder why, in this heightened state of ire, I was literally producing 39 times the amount of saliva I normally do. Swallowing was the only task I could focus on, because otherwise I would’ve just drooled all over myself which made me think people might not take me seriously and/or would just have me euthanized.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBi3ppazTvv3GSaSMoXDyS2FfOU_C-JjoFkzh8lOUCNZZoZr4k94h50IZY1cmsTKNDzKUN4IoNAOh-Xmq7tEnYj5OeN58C1KsaPN6kNzY00_xF0qYE7YDbr0bI1-T-EYonV8Qo0PMVLZbx/s1600/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBi3ppazTvv3GSaSMoXDyS2FfOU_C-JjoFkzh8lOUCNZZoZr4k94h50IZY1cmsTKNDzKUN4IoNAOh-Xmq7tEnYj5OeN58C1KsaPN6kNzY00_xF0qYE7YDbr0bI1-T-EYonV8Qo0PMVLZbx/s320/giphy.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SURE IS</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The experience was definitely a lesson learned; safety takes priority, no matter how intimidated you are ( if the intimation is real, OR if it’s just in your head). I am really relieved that nobody was hurt, and that I was lucky enough to just take away from it a crazy story and a life lesson. And also I have somehow avoided prison.</span></div>
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Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-30066585497786737112017-07-16T06:26:00.004-05:002017-07-16T06:26:37.909-05:00To The Maryland Zoo Team<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Oh, Maryland Zoo people....I am so sorry.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNO3ynIvX57PANOIo6m7QquxNT15ot29xLrwniBYpgWb9sBoNajKfc6IgqzLOmAXWEAfBlK4n6kS5PVcaIAL6ToH2cYgihgR_DKCRdPYu_B-A0L8L5_MZU94W26aFX_U7cpBIB-dWMPSp7/s1600/281e7b10fc66dd37876bc744336fa63cf42980d9a58c64e555f24d725df221cf.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="316" data-original-width="500" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNO3ynIvX57PANOIo6m7QquxNT15ot29xLrwniBYpgWb9sBoNajKfc6IgqzLOmAXWEAfBlK4n6kS5PVcaIAL6ToH2cYgihgR_DKCRdPYu_B-A0L8L5_MZU94W26aFX_U7cpBIB-dWMPSp7/s320/281e7b10fc66dd37876bc744336fa63cf42980d9a58c64e555f24d725df221cf.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><3</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">For those of you who don't know, Maryland Zoo has had two giraffe births within the past few months. The latest, a male named Julius, was born on June 15th. What happened afterwards is a story that so many of us have experienced, but have a lot of trouble not only processing internally, but expressing to people who have no idea what it is like to care for animals in this way.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Our critics often take opportunities where animals are ill, injured, or dying to rake us over the coals. Most people, even those who do not necessarily support zoos or aquariums, are decent human beings who do NOT leave heartless, cruel Facebook comments about these situations. However, it is the small minority of thoughtless people who make what is already </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">an incomprehensible loss into a</span> horrendous nightmare. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSSE9Ci5xkmXhzmiRTMfQfTrAcEb9EEGdsmN8J423lNEJh3wXSpdfGAqeVq_eSYWakmNy3njhaPfhF_4FJdnwNP3msiPINxsR3dbzabXFVh1IeT-MR5K4uqgITXAHcJCbo1Dxt2MVuWGyS/s1600/troll.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="795" data-original-width="800" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSSE9Ci5xkmXhzmiRTMfQfTrAcEb9EEGdsmN8J423lNEJh3wXSpdfGAqeVq_eSYWakmNy3njhaPfhF_4FJdnwNP3msiPINxsR3dbzabXFVh1IeT-MR5K4uqgITXAHcJCbo1Dxt2MVuWGyS/s320/troll.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a great idea! Everyone is doing it!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">In the case of the little giraffe calf, his story played out in a way I think many of this blog’s readers will relate to. He was born to a loving, doting mother but for whatever reason, Julius did not nurse successfully. This is not an unusual situation in both captive and wild mammals, especially with mammals whose childhoods are long investments of maternal care. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">When nursing doesn't go as planned in these animals, animal care professionals must weigh their options on how to proceed. Some facilities choose to let nature take its course, which is of course what happens….in nature. That is not “good” or “bad”. Nature is what nature is, it does not care one way or the other how the story ends. And some well-respected zoological communities feel that it is in the animals’ best interest to experience life as naturally as possible, which might result in a hands-off approach when a baby is failing to thrive. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brookfield Zoo staff helping a newborn dolphin</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Some facilities choose to intervene if it is a) safe for the humans involved (remember, many of these animals are massive, not to mention mom is not necessarily going to think rationally when someone comes in and messes with her baby who is struggling) and b) in the best interest of the baby him/herself. Some babies, like bottlenose dolphins, are extremely fragile when they are first born. They can literally have a heart attack if they get super scared. Their mom and/or other family members may freak out if something outside of their experience happens after the calf is born, like a pool dropping or attempting to handle their calf (which is why it is so awesome that some marine mammal facilities teach their dolphin moms to do husbandry-related behaviors that entail scenarios commonly encountered in intervening with a neonatal calf). Big dolphins freaking out around brand new babies can result in fatal injuries to the baby. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So it isn't an easy decision to make with large mammals, because there are a lot of factors to consider on top of what the baby him/herself is going through medically. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Once a decision is made to intervene, everyone remotely involved with the department is usually scheduled for some grueling Waffle House shifts. Waffle House shifts. You know, because the only place that you can guarantee will be open to feed you no matter what time you get off, no matter what you are wearing, no matter what you smell like, is good ol' Waffle House.<br /><br />Some places will recruit help from other animal departments, or ask for volunteers depending on how the facility is organized. This might mean you work 12 hour shifts. Maybe you work your normal eight or ten hour day, and then come into work in the middle of the night for a few hours, then get up a few hours later to do it again. Chances are, your weekends and vacation plans are cancelled. Your life becomes work and sleeping (where and when you can) and little else for the indefinite future.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjj3xqrgMc5gB4OZHukGK5JcEueaKkJQqkYWx2ZL2lj0gebhNSrHJWE3BNdIQ-K6ox-mxvSnOJT_d9lxGkj0ZH_yztpgPtqsvS5RnL24oSTmX54ZmMj5FYm1xYugwkg8Lzx9mvYcQeaeXS/s1600/waffle-house.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="379" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjj3xqrgMc5gB4OZHukGK5JcEueaKkJQqkYWx2ZL2lj0gebhNSrHJWE3BNdIQ-K6ox-mxvSnOJT_d9lxGkj0ZH_yztpgPtqsvS5RnL24oSTmX54ZmMj5FYm1xYugwkg8Lzx9mvYcQeaeXS/s320/waffle-house.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Your life is one big Waffle House shift</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Why is this? Well, in general, most critical cases require consistent medical treatment. Medication courses may have to be given at certain times through the day and night. For example, I worked with a dolphin who had an abscess on her lung. The course of her antibiotics required a 24 hour feeding schedule for many, many weeks that needed to be strictly adhered to, because lung infections are not easy to treat (and she made a fully recovery, so happy ending to that story!). Other types of medical therapies may require multiple treatments within a 24 hour period, too. Continuous observation is usually a part of this as well, which means an alert staff member or two is watching the animal for any changes in behavior. Try staying awake in the middle of the night for 8 to 12 hour shifts never taking your eyes off the animal in your care, unless you have to use the bathroom. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But when a baby needs critical care, this requires even more effort. Even if the baby is 100% healthy, her or she needs to eat regularly…more than an adult or juvenile would. Human moms know what I’m talking about. Infants and babies in many non-precocial mammal species go through a period I like to call The Red Zone where they basically eat, sleep, and poop in 2 to 4 hour cycles, pausing not a wink for their moms/dads/guardians to catch up. If a giraffe isn't able to nurse properly from mom, then humans take over mom’s role. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPkmQmCJChbDllsUJgu_cpgOqaO6I3I2ICPtbgCY-yScsYtlntiKugaweRoxmTpB6cHviRWVcaSYucLyYlxDrJnp52Fx3KCdTNWU8PBbyr_MN9k0QwqDfalQ7YMxQsCbeBWTg2H-VtvZg/s1600/bottle-fed-giraffe-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="377" data-original-width="564" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPkmQmCJChbDllsUJgu_cpgOqaO6I3I2ICPtbgCY-yScsYtlntiKugaweRoxmTpB6cHviRWVcaSYucLyYlxDrJnp52Fx3KCdTNWU8PBbyr_MN9k0QwqDfalQ7YMxQsCbeBWTg2H-VtvZg/s320/bottle-fed-giraffe-2.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MD Zoo staff bottle feed Julius</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Feeding a baby in this way is not as easy as it seems in the movies, either. You don't just provide a bottle, snuggle with the baby as he or she feeds lazily in your arms, and then upload all your adorable selfies to your Insta account. No. You have to MAKE the formula (oh my GOD and if it’s a dolphin calf, there is usually some amount of fish oil involved which gets everywhere and you will never, ever smell like a human being again, sorry). You have to account for every calorie; this is not just a simple “dump the powder into the water and shake shake shake and eyeball the amount eaten” situation. Every. Calorie. Counts. You make the formula, you pour it into whatever feeding device you’re going to us, and then you triple-check the amount before, during, and after each feeding.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This is an insanely emotionally challenging time for EVERYONE involved, human and animal alike. Baby animals in critical condition brings its own sort of emotional torment, because it isn't uncommon for them to start to really rely on their human caregivers for all of the other needs he/she would be getting from mom, (or in alloparenting species,o ther members of the herd/pod/pride/whatever). Social mammals NEED social contact, and not just for touchy-feely reasons. Loving physical contact paired with creating a sense of security has a direct impact on healthy development. If baby is surrounded by loving human caregivers, baby will start relying on those caregivers (in full or in part) to provide that contact and security. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdPsOQ2Xz08EXtFcPbVoke4KsvTHL1XUHqvpvlksI-MPWhTqSmpWbnwPU3j167HzO97WZ1qnGEbYGXENSGgJ2lDXEMh6CxgXDpcPaajo0qi1IIFSVvwMX3M-ZDDu5lbSUdnRo3QpfNOEf/s1600/funny-and-adorable-animals.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="488" data-original-width="650" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdPsOQ2Xz08EXtFcPbVoke4KsvTHL1XUHqvpvlksI-MPWhTqSmpWbnwPU3j167HzO97WZ1qnGEbYGXENSGgJ2lDXEMh6CxgXDpcPaajo0qi1IIFSVvwMX3M-ZDDu5lbSUdnRo3QpfNOEf/s320/funny-and-adorable-animals.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I LURV YOU</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So now you have a critically ill baby, who relies on YOU 100% for every need he/she has. No worthy keeper takes this responsibility lightly. Most of us fall head over heels in love and toss our life’s plans aside as we work ourselves to death to try to help this little life. After only a couple of days, the only way we can get through our day is the time we spend with the animals. But when we get downtime, we fall into tortured sleep filled with nightmares or we pass out into a restless state of unconsciousness until we return back to work, hopeful that the tides have turned in the baby’s favor.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">It is an indescribable feeling to see a baby who was previously not doing well suddenly turn the corner and flourish. Life slowly gets back to “normal”. Everyone is happy.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But sometimes, the baby is too good for this world. Such was the case with Julius. It is especially hard when you know that they are not going to get better, especially when it is a long, slow road to that fate.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwYYteW76_U_MlsM-OwWo79mSGERZHKWfNeNoqAYQHesQrMKXSPVHfqSdxqddWoG6KZp2pYbQ2O14z4v3JMMK9oOw0HQCWOOsaaJ-iNG17pD5-TpenGwWvns42sbeHJ35bTU9qQOP9dXu_/s1600/Baby_Giraffe_59504-425x485.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="485" data-original-width="425" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwYYteW76_U_MlsM-OwWo79mSGERZHKWfNeNoqAYQHesQrMKXSPVHfqSdxqddWoG6KZp2pYbQ2O14z4v3JMMK9oOw0HQCWOOsaaJ-iNG17pD5-TpenGwWvns42sbeHJ35bTU9qQOP9dXu_/s320/Baby_Giraffe_59504-425x485.jpeg" width="280" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><3 <3 <3</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So now I'm going to directly address all of you who worked with this little calf….but to anyone reading this who has been through a similar situation, this applies to you, too.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><i><b>Maryland Zoo team Julius peeps, you are amazing.</b></i> I mean, it’s amazing enough that you did literally EVERYTHING remotely possible for that little guy. Not only did you do everything you could for Julius, you set an example for how this kind of situation should be treated. Keeping the wellness of Julius as your North Star, you balanced his needs with the possibilities available. Not only that, you kept the public aware of what you were doing. They got a look into what it takes to provide that level of care to a wild animal calf. I mean, people in my forensics lab were talking about it with a tremendous amount of respect and concern. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I know what it is like to watch a baby move in the wrong direction. I know how heart-wrenching that is, especially when you start to second-guess decisions you have made, or ones you may have to make. THEN, no matter how hard you try to cement yourself to the soulless comments about Julius and zoos and what you do for a living, you still somehow read or hear a comment that frays your last nerve and breaks you down, when you've been barely holding on. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk_cSESYPV5P65q9OuaIYyjyAp6EE2BjUSzVKWpYB0B18NBem9NqDPg5PtPpdw-2YNpIryklXqayTSKQajdEStR-WPhy8tyDnJ_EtV2Ngx59fnDyLrJUaWs7vcCvhN1T5jXHd78h8GLAMC/s1600/19957042_10150858276069987_4856157966096467308_o.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="376" data-original-width="564" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk_cSESYPV5P65q9OuaIYyjyAp6EE2BjUSzVKWpYB0B18NBem9NqDPg5PtPpdw-2YNpIryklXqayTSKQajdEStR-WPhy8tyDnJ_EtV2Ngx59fnDyLrJUaWs7vcCvhN1T5jXHd78h8GLAMC/s320/19957042_10150858276069987_4856157966096467308_o.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at this incredible group of people!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But listen to me. All that matters is what you did for Julius, no matter what role you played. Here is what he needed: Love, security, basic physical needs met, and medical treatment. Here is what you gave him: Love, security, basic physical needs met, and medical treatment. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The experience that little giraffe calf had is impossible to know for sure, but logically let’s think about this. Even if he didn’t feel well or physically comfortable as his health declined, all of his needs were met. He did not have to spend a moment afraid. He did not have to spend a moment unloved. We know that is not often the case in animals in the wild in similar situations. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The emotional torment you guys experienced with him, and are dealing with now in a different way, is NOT what he experienced. If Julius gets to fill out a survey in the afterlife about his time on earth, his “Additional comment” section would probably say something like, “I got lots of love and I was basically a social media giant. Would recommend.”<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And I agree with this review!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">No matter what your internal conversation is with how everyone played out, or how hard it is to read media coverage and see the disgusting comments below the articles….that does not change the fact that Julius lived and died, fully and completely loved. THAT is why you guys get up each morning. If you feel unappreciated, know that I bet Julius and his mom appreciated what you did. Know that the awful comments you're reading are just words typed quickly on a keyboard....which is NOTHING compared to the weight of the work you did to care for an animal in his greatest time of need.<br /><br />Know that the rest of us in the zoo field appreciated what you did. We stand in solidarity with you. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">A giraffe, a dolphin, a lemur, a caiman…I don't care what animal you care for, we know that they all deserve to feel secure and loved, in whatever way they perceive those things. It is never easy to provide that in medically critical situations, and yet time and again we do it. We know our hearts will be ripped out, that we may have nightmares about it for years to come, but those consequences do not stop us from being there 100% for animals who not only NEED that level of care, but DESERVE IT.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Thinking of you, Maryland Zoo. <br /><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rest in peace, little guy. </td></tr>
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Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-65495140409472460902017-07-09T05:58:00.004-05:002017-07-09T06:09:54.895-05:00Zookeeper Pregnancy - Morning Sickness<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I swear to god this is not your typical pregnancy/morning sickness blog post.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morpheus always knows</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Not that there is anything wrong with so-called Mommy Blogging. In fact, there are some great ones out there, so I am told. But the people who write that share at least three of the following qualities:</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">1) They have kids</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">2) They use coasters religiously and appropriately </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">3) They grow all of their own food with one hand (the other hand is usually doing something crafty)</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">4) They take perfectly artistic photos of everyday goings-on (such as pooping) that make it look like a utopian paradise </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I meet precisely one criterion in that list (hint, it is not number 5). Even though I do have a kid, and I am 31 years older than said child, I feel like I am still in seventh grade. This is a quality about my mindset that has not changed. The only reason I have any business being a mom is because I am a professional applied behavior analyst. But for that, my progeny and I would eat donuts three times a day and wear the same rainbow-themed clothes while binge-watching Sci-Fi and/or Pixar movies.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyP9631W9AasKQQmikBXUoWmfpLc8j66dmfqMe-vHIbZtvmV7dX0Jdr6fPIsBbQ8xulXPo7RhQIEpPXmSKw5wXvdpghhf_zY2teFvvRrxEMN2Pjr-547IQFblB6UTPA9DOe_IGKw-8L__W/s1600/18199258_10102625980031871_3944979678214014457_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="523" data-original-width="928" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyP9631W9AasKQQmikBXUoWmfpLc8j66dmfqMe-vHIbZtvmV7dX0Jdr6fPIsBbQ8xulXPo7RhQIEpPXmSKw5wXvdpghhf_zY2teFvvRrxEMN2Pjr-547IQFblB6UTPA9DOe_IGKw-8L__W/s400/18199258_10102625980031871_3944979678214014457_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Um. Exhibit A.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I also didn't really have what you would call a magical experience with being knocked up; if I have an inner fertility goddess, she is currently snoring on a proverbial couch with Cheetos covering her Rubenesque body.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">BUT. I found it a really interesting experience as a marine mammal caregiver. I spent a lot of time in my 11 year career around pregnant dolphins and their calves. I had never seen labor and delivery of a human being, but I had seen it over 10 times in bottlenose dolphins. I have been around way more pregnant dolphins than pregnant humans. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like this one! Roxy was pregnant with the love of my life in this photo</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Here’s a thing I noticed and eventually became really annoyed by: our quickly-made conclusions about how different Animals Have It than humans. For example, most of the pregnant dolphins I knew got “morning sickness” (aka The Worst Feeling Ever Other Than Scooping Out Your Eyeballs With A Small Spoon), but that was treated like it was some kind of anomaly. When the dolphins would sit uncomfortably in front of us, barely eat, and refuse behaviors, our Training Brains couldn’t seem to wrap our minds around this. Yeah, HUMANS got morning sickness, but these dolphins were ANIMALS. Animals are tough. They don’t show their emotions in ways humans are used to. They don’t write Mommy Blogs and talk about Dolphin-Based Morning Sickness Remedies (THANK GOD).</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinA-XHWXb_Gtyobsn-GSQ-9hC4U9W69YbxIiTFYSKWr2MY4ezkuNp-8R_EWqOUfZZu7zdMYDvLgprrDFA-aQNI-M5HaohnSqtdTkkqiOGt9McAt8xBQ2ZU4EHqodauK75BvatbJ3Vh226q/s1600/14m8rt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="378" data-original-width="381" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinA-XHWXb_Gtyobsn-GSQ-9hC4U9W69YbxIiTFYSKWr2MY4ezkuNp-8R_EWqOUfZZu7zdMYDvLgprrDFA-aQNI-M5HaohnSqtdTkkqiOGt9McAt8xBQ2ZU4EHqodauK75BvatbJ3Vh226q/s320/14m8rt.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm crying</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But the majority of trainers I have worked with always talked about how that made no sense….placental mammal pregnancy involves many of the same principles, including sudden and dramatic changes in ratios of certain hormones. The first trimester of pregnancy is essentially your body going WTF JUST HAPPENED and scrambling to support this small parasite(s). The placenta, which eventually takes over most of the life support, doesn’t play that role until later. That means the mom’s body needs to support the little blobby blob* with chemicals like gonadotropin and progesterone. It is likely that one or some of these hormones in their pregnancy-level amounts causes some really unfortunate GI side-effects.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">When you have a dolphin who loves to eat no matter what is going on, you know something is up when she suddenly looks squinty-eyed, sluggish, inattentive, and like she would rather swallow bits of glass than eat whatever you have in your bucket. Of course, the standard course of action is to take blood and gastric samples to ensure something is NOT actually wrong, so once you rule out illness, you got yourself a lady friend with morning sickness. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HOLD IT IN HOLD IT IN</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">In my experience, six weeks into carrying Blessed Life (while I was on a solo vaca to Central California to geek out on whale-watching for 10 days), I felt the most nauseous I have ever been. Ever. Like, even when I had an intestinal parasite for two weeks and could not eat and wound up in the hospital. It was seriously terrible. The only thing I could eat was sushi and fried or grilled squid.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Guys and gals (especially those of you who have never been pregnant), I would not wish the all-consuming, intense nausea I experienced on anyone (some world dictators are exempt from this statement). Nothing I did could take my mind off of how sick I felt. The advice I got was the wise but totally ineffective long-view kind, where people tell you how it’ll all be worth it (okay, it was) or how you should just think of this tiny little life growing inside of you (hint: photos of embryos are not great remedies for wanting to puke your guts out), but all you want to do is spend the rest of your life in the fetal position (ha ha, see what I did there).</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> I need to re-do this vacation. Better yet, I need to move out there!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I spent most of my vacation in bed, miserable. When I got back to work, I had to tell my boss that a) I was pregnant and b) there was no way in hell I could go on a sea lion transport because I would basically just vom the entire time. Then I had to work. Like normal. I was on my feet for most of the day, in the heat, around the saltwater, around dead fish, penguin and otter poop, and I had my supervisory duties. And I had to pretend nothing was going on. I have no idea how well I pulled this off, I just know that there were many times I walked into our medical lab when no one was in there and flopped over the counters, hoping no one would come in. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBbKbg_IXK3R4HozGMUHGaAj5-Cw6iewYajv8Mh7FJEyJThA2780CZd5vYG3I36IkiPpOB6aa9cXBm2NUs7SX_B98XACr-OBNJgBpmIJfI05EgaMmA9VcfXeVRyGptaOPG318xXLst8tDC/s1600/yeah-perfectly-fine-b_o_176126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="502" data-original-width="460" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBbKbg_IXK3R4HozGMUHGaAj5-Cw6iewYajv8Mh7FJEyJThA2780CZd5vYG3I36IkiPpOB6aa9cXBm2NUs7SX_B98XACr-OBNJgBpmIJfI05EgaMmA9VcfXeVRyGptaOPG318xXLst8tDC/s320/yeah-perfectly-fine-b_o_176126.jpg" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I AM FINE</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">It was there, on the cold countertops, that I really felt bad for my previous interactions with newly pregnant dolphins. We had two dolphins who were preggo at the same time as me, but they were well past their sickness stage. Even though I figured they experienced some kind of nausea/fatigue early on, and tried to be sensitive, I still fell into trainer-mode, where if they refused a well-established exercise behavior I would ask again after an LRS because….that is what we do.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But as I drooled on my uniform, my stomach turning in knots, I realized what a butthead I had been. If THIS is what those lady dolphins experienced, I deserved to be kicked in the face. If someone came into that lab and said, “Hey Cat, go do your normal workout right now” or “Hey Cat, walk five steps”, I would be like OVER MY DEAD BODY. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Now, luckily, any misguided decisions I made regarding which behaviors I asked pregnant dolphins to do was usually met with refusal or avoidance. That is, the girls would say OVER MY DEAD BODY in their own dolphin way. That is how true positive reinforcement training SHOULD work, with the animals feeling perfectly comfortable saying no without any fear of deprivation of what they need to be happy and healthy.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA4ohBYt6ECaC_OSU75eZJvXAtBA8rG17A6WqmQfJS2tpniqnWZQ3NX3_QGwuAex9gRvKbXK6QhY47vsusiRdgCKHWfXt2bXEwHAxkm0lGSftV1vQ0Hjc_i6r6eX3r2bo-YvP4MRmJl1rG/s1600/10417518_10101605504632751_1261925197542005292_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="960" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA4ohBYt6ECaC_OSU75eZJvXAtBA8rG17A6WqmQfJS2tpniqnWZQ3NX3_QGwuAex9gRvKbXK6QhY47vsusiRdgCKHWfXt2bXEwHAxkm0lGSftV1vQ0Hjc_i6r6eX3r2bo-YvP4MRmJl1rG/s320/10417518_10101605504632751_1261925197542005292_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plus, you wind up with a cute baby</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But still, I felt like a butthead.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">And, I'm just gonna say it, but dudes don’t get it. Especially in our field, where a) most of us are chicks but b) most of our bosses are male. You are expected to work 99.9% of the time (you better be filling out records while you’re pooping on company time) because there is so much to do and the animals depend on you, it is a big deal to suddenly lose a trainer at ANY level (because seriously guys, we are all passionate and therefore very valuable no matter what level we are). I think women are more empathetic to this thing, even if they haven't been pregnant…because periods**. Female reproductive systems do really weird and usually uncomfortable things, even when they are perfectly normal.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnZoNUsF0CzfUh4hZ4ePo4ga5hzXTtNCoO3pyeF3zvTgiMkffEBK-8b2AVD9L-AM8DVgHGIpOhzRjqVkLOlKgixRlmfi0CNdVTnwUijCTokC1jyEHaVM1Y5G_29whAbD29_Hmg-Eeebcq/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="174" data-original-width="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnZoNUsF0CzfUh4hZ4ePo4ga5hzXTtNCoO3pyeF3zvTgiMkffEBK-8b2AVD9L-AM8DVgHGIpOhzRjqVkLOlKgixRlmfi0CNdVTnwUijCTokC1jyEHaVM1Y5G_29whAbD29_Hmg-Eeebcq/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But dudes? If you think we are just whining about morning sickness, I have a fun and educational activity for you to try.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Drink Dran-O, just enough to prevent massive organ failure. And just when you think you are going to die, go to work and pretend like nothing is wrong. (Side note: this also works for our “monthly visitor” experience, except you can just slice a relatively high-pressure, non-vital artery in your pelvic region).</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxU7bGhqT9TGvi6kR5RPz8pxU2Rh34SotFUVGOs0hwxIAI1pmoSmtr57xc1Knlc0pB9KJyAT2A3oXo63Y3GhPTg8p621kJNp_TY6gNT8rga_lJDlVfucrrt3mU_h08XVeccTiMewvqMZk7/s1600/4533f1ddea511502646c0358c013d234--auto-correct-fails-auto-correct-texts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxU7bGhqT9TGvi6kR5RPz8pxU2Rh34SotFUVGOs0hwxIAI1pmoSmtr57xc1Knlc0pB9KJyAT2A3oXo63Y3GhPTg8p621kJNp_TY6gNT8rga_lJDlVfucrrt3mU_h08XVeccTiMewvqMZk7/s1600/4533f1ddea511502646c0358c013d234--auto-correct-fails-auto-correct-texts.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Anyways, my lesson? Even though I thought I was giving the animals the benefit of the doubt without sacrificing predictable training principles, it took me actually going through the experience to really understand. That was just MY experience, it is probably different for most of you out there. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br />And you know what? If I'm wrong, if dolphins really do NOT experience morning sickness and just have a secret Sisterhood pact to all refuse behaviors and pick at their food in the first four months of their pregnancy, then I would rather bring them extra comfort than try to make their situation more uncomfortable. After all, our main job is to put the animals and their wellness first. The show, interaction, or session takes second priority to the well-being of our animals. <br /><br />Tell me your experience, keepers with human babies!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">** Need I say more, ladies?</span></div>
Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-26029765337718827372017-07-02T06:34:00.000-05:002017-07-02T06:35:06.868-05:00The Middle Flipper Is...(Part 16)<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">…a dolphin who helps herself to her lunch. And maybe other people’s lunches.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">STOP IT</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This has got to be something anyone training animals has experienced with any tangible reinforcer*. <a href="http://themiddleflipper.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-middle-flipper-ispart-10.html" target="_blank"> I wrote about this a while back, featuring an amazing lady sea lion named Tina</a>. It may not surprise many people that animals who can easily move around the land occasionally pull some lightning-fast ninja moves and wind up with their face in a bucket, cooler, pouch, whatever. </span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Also can we pause a moment to just acknowledge how STRONG Asian small-clawed otters are when they are using their tiny alien hands to grab their food bowls? You’d need some kind of industrial-grade lever system and/or a nuclear bomb to loosen their grip before they are good and finished. ASCOs are undoubtedly the masters of bucket-diving.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But I mean, their hands can be used for good, too.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">BUT, perhaps the wild card of the Bucket Diving World Champions are dolphins. Yeah. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">If you work with dolphins, you get it. But if you don’t, you are probably sitting there wondering a) how stupid the trainers are for leaving buckets close enough to the edge of the water for a dolphin to nab OR b) you are trying to imagine how it is physically possible for a dolphin to let themselves into a closed container of food but your brain keeps flashing the THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE message. So let me shed light onto both of these points.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">People who work with dolphins tend to keep fish in one of two types of containers: stainless steel buckets, or Igloo-type coolers**. Because dolphins are ginormous animals and eat a good amount, these containers usually contain around 3 to 10 pounds of fish, depending on the facility, the animal, and the type of session. Many facilities feed lots of capelin, or smaller fish like mullet or the dreaded silversides (Godspeed to those of you feeding those little MFers). </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the feeling of gazing into a bucket full of silversides. HOW MANY ARE IN THEREEEEE</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">What that means is there are like 67,000 fish in a bucket (plus or minus), not to mention lots of ice. That means the buckets are pretty heavy and not easily wielded (although have you seen a dolphin trainer’s arms? STACKED). Unlike animals whose training food requires something cute and simple like a little belt, or clip-on pouch, dolphin trainers do not typically move their buckets around as often as THEY themselves move. You leave it somewhere, do your thing, and come back to it. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">And this is where the problems begin.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">When I was at Marineland, Roxy was the known bucket-diver (I’m assuming she is still doing this). Now, Roxy was not really a risk-taker when it came to helping herself to snacks. That is to say, if you carelessly left your bucket/cooler on the edge of the habitat, she was going to come up a foot or so out of the water, use her rostrum to knock the bucket into a free spin resulting in it crashing into the water. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHp0HGZVW99jEhlwGQBn4GuyjH7gaS-0PcqaGvbO-m9tSRP_hpaIc1fJup-1wT5n9_qcqF_JhTXhlzn69s5HFLRN6_3iBSdKZiFcg8dsTgRu0nLBcNjaxmERsftDI7GeGWq0huIjNXmPYP/s1600/12182668_10104103399486388_300824156791913698_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1296" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHp0HGZVW99jEhlwGQBn4GuyjH7gaS-0PcqaGvbO-m9tSRP_hpaIc1fJup-1wT5n9_qcqF_JhTXhlzn69s5HFLRN6_3iBSdKZiFcg8dsTgRu0nLBcNjaxmERsftDI7GeGWq0huIjNXmPYP/s400/12182668_10104103399486388_300824156791913698_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roxy (photo cred to Jess Aditays, an amazing human being with endless talent)</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This is usually how dolphins (in my experience) take their buckets. They see a perfect opportunity, and take it. Usually, it spills a good amount of fish into the water (67,000ish) and the other dolphins zoom over and chow down, regardless of what else is going on. This is annoying for a few reasons:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">1) You have to figure out how much food each animal got, so you can get everyone’s daily diet back into equilibrium. This is basically impossible unless you have really slow dolphins (ha ha!), or if there is less than three, because otherwise you basically have a maelstrom of marine mammal eating fish and there aren’t enough eyeballs in your head or neurons in your brain to keep track of that much stimuli.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">2) Depending on what kind of session it is, or how long you have left in the session, you may have like zero snacks left over. This really sucks in interaction programs, because you can’t get people out quickly. You can barely get them out of the water for an emergency, like HEY THERE IS LIGHTNING AND ALSO THERE IS A SERIAL KILLER STANDING BEHIND YOU WITH A LOADED SHOTGUN SO GET OUT OF THE WATER RIGHT NOW. And the guests are like “BUT I PAID TO SWIM WITH DOLPHINS”</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">3) It is yet another reminder of how stupid we are and how smart the dolphins are.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've been looking for that everywhere!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So what do we do? Well, we have our obligatory Staff Meeting where we declare that Never Again Shall Roxy (or whoever) Steal The Bucket, and we come up with training plans and make a blood oath that we will not leave our buckets within one foot of the pools’ edges. And Roxy just waits until we screw up, because SHE knows we will (but we humans are still in denial about this). Sometimes, you get REAL smart, and you close the lid to your Coleman cooler nice and tight after every time you use it, so when Roxy knocks it in, she just gets a floating cube impenetrable to her handless body. And you celebrate how intelligent and cunning you are as a human being.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">….until you meet Delilah. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Grand Empress herself</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Delilah, she knows how to open coolers. She removes lids in ways that I still cannot understand. She eats all the snacks. And then she brings you back the empty cooler, and the lid (if she completely removed it). I don't have anything else to add to this, because her methods are a mystery. All I know is that she figured this out and acts calmly, almost bored, because she is that effing smart.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But there is a dolphin who gets buckets no matter where they are. And her name is Spirit.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq1Vkn6bKXafe7p1krgNXKcu-UBaFu4K5_B4J5s_HWWYfHP0P-nYGPdf6xx3x9HXLM6Dtu8mOpfyeRYZeyOWKKnBURK4qTJ_fAGveAcYTuFWXkSqhyphenhyphenihcHjoW7knECIH47xfikXiLKoSYE/s1600/12472468_10101984672666971_453820525129193456_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq1Vkn6bKXafe7p1krgNXKcu-UBaFu4K5_B4J5s_HWWYfHP0P-nYGPdf6xx3x9HXLM6Dtu8mOpfyeRYZeyOWKKnBURK4qTJ_fAGveAcYTuFWXkSqhyphenhyphenihcHjoW7knECIH47xfikXiLKoSYE/s400/12472468_10101984672666971_453820525129193456_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remember this photo</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Spirit lives at National Aquarium (Nani’s daughter) and is one of the sharpest women I have ever met. She is a keen observer of human behavior, she is always 10 steps ahead of any training plan you can come up with, she figures out your games and exploits you. GOD I LOVE HER.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I was told Spirit was a bucket diver when I started working at the aquarium. I figured at that point, with 10+ years of experience, I had seen lots of bucket divers. I also figured that after watching Delilah dismantle coolers, I couldn’t be surprised anymore. Now, don't read that as me saying that I somehow thought Spirit would never grab a bucket during one of our sessions. I had learned that lesson long ago; it was just a matter of time before I experienced that. But I figured I wouldn’t be surprised by it. It would just be Another Smart Dolphin Taking What She’s Owed.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">HA! My hubris was steamrolled yet again by a slippery critter.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcs3l1lKj62kPwhU16q8UFJ2R_vn9mpWqdKwqY0JEJRLk5LwekAl4zRP81Wi8Su5KyBBL4EyMt6k1eDVWhT__b24XfahmqLfQUkWk9AUQT4yiFetI-qPLlAYz7PQL_BSNTO1dv01DMtLEA/s1600/Its%252Bso%252Bhard%252Bits%252Bso%252Bhard%252Bto%252Badmit%252Bwhen%252Bthings_d6e13f_5223898.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="398" data-original-width="540" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcs3l1lKj62kPwhU16q8UFJ2R_vn9mpWqdKwqY0JEJRLk5LwekAl4zRP81Wi8Su5KyBBL4EyMt6k1eDVWhT__b24XfahmqLfQUkWk9AUQT4yiFetI-qPLlAYz7PQL_BSNTO1dv01DMtLEA/s320/Its%252Bso%252Bhard%252Bits%252Bso%252Bhard%252Bto%252Badmit%252Bwhen%252Bthings_d6e13f_5223898.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is now my permanent facial expression</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The first time Spirit took her bucket (a stainless steel one), it was 100% my fault. It was on the edge, I left to get some toys, and I took my eye off of her for a second. Rookie mistake, and boom, she got it. She got a couple other trainer’s buckets in other sessions over the next couple of days, becoming bolder and bolder at how far she would come up out of the water to get it. But again, this wasn’t surprising to any of us. We just tried to be more vigilant in keeping our buckets away from her.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So this one session, I was standing on a slide out on the side of the main habitat during a presentation. I was about shin-deep in the water, loving on Spirit and another dolphin named Jade. It seemed like we were having a jolly time, with both dolphins soliciting rubs and playing wildly with their toys. I placed their buckets high up on the wall, at the end of a set of stairs leading into the slide out, because Spirit would basically need to re-evolve her legs or defy the laws of gravity in order to reach it. Therefore, I felt perfectly comfortable moving to the front of the habitat, near their underwater viewing windows.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ER_qUuqrn_XA2HjAYz_eyzyndbHnARSgRwA8uai72ebrOWu2sCrmqwl52Y_jOKhVFhVP5ZJsAp-yQzhUzfYaNbR5SSNs2gJj4mE9UZChyphenhyphenBz8LKG1NuS_vtUoy6eNpL3ACtuCA8ATEk32/s1600/5a57c173d0ffdcc49e8a6c3e435ad74c--friday-meme-meme-caption.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="363" data-original-width="500" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ER_qUuqrn_XA2HjAYz_eyzyndbHnARSgRwA8uai72ebrOWu2sCrmqwl52Y_jOKhVFhVP5ZJsAp-yQzhUzfYaNbR5SSNs2gJj4mE9UZChyphenhyphenBz8LKG1NuS_vtUoy6eNpL3ACtuCA8ATEk32/s400/5a57c173d0ffdcc49e8a6c3e435ad74c--friday-meme-meme-caption.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everything is fine, I got it</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I did this because it was part of our plan to bring the dolphins to the windows so our guests in the amphitheater could see the animals better. I brought Jade’s bucket with me, after putting some of Spirit’s food in there, so I didn’t have to schlep two big buckets back and forth to the windows, especially because I wasn’t going to be there longer than a few behaviors. Oh…oh Cat.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">We did a few behaviors, having a great time. Spirit and Jade got a good amount of snacks for it, since we didn’t do it super often. I also figured it would be a good idea to give Spirit a heavier ratio of reinforcement at the windows because she was away from her bucket and, even though she couldn’t reach it, she was not over at the slideout trying to get it. THis is something I am sure most of you trainers out there would’ve done, because it is, according to the books, What Works.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Suddenly, Spirit shot away. Towards the slideout. Towards the stairs. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me. Dolphin (not Spirit). Stairs are behind me, bucket in the place I am describing. You get the picture.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Oh god, I thought. She is going to try in vain to get that bucket. What a mess, I thought as I watched her make her way to the bucket.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Then, with the grace and agility of a freakin’ killer whale, she somehow CLIMBED UP THE STAIRS WITH HER FLIPPERS, grabbed her bucket, then threw her body, which was now well over 1/2 way out of the water, back onto the slideout. And a dolphin party ensued, ruining the presentation segment, leaving me standing mouth-agape at what I just witnessed.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She tried to turn back into this thing</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The best part? None of the staff who knew Spirit well was surprised. They calmly informed me that really, the only way to prevent Spirit from getting a bucket was to secure it in a bucket rack on one of the decks of the habitat, or hang it 35 feet from the ground like a freaking camping trip where bears hang out.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">In fact, they further informed me of Spirit’s ability and Little Mermaid-esque affinity to Be Where The People Are in ways that do not make sense for a bottlenose dolphin. My favorite story involve a trainer in The Pit, a small (and AMAZINGLY COOL) observation area located below the main pool’s deck. The entrance to the pit is like nine feet away from the water’s edge, and is up on a low grade “hill” of sorts. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pit is in the middle of this photo; its roof-top door is open. That is how far back it is.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The trainer was watching animals in another pool, when they felt drops of water falling on them. This wasn’t unusual, because if the animals splashed a lot, you might feel a couple of droplets as a result. But for some reason, this trainer looked up. And there, peering down at her, was Spirit. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This dolphin had slid up well over a body length UPHILL, and scooted herself so that she could literally crane her head over the edge of the pit to see what was happening down there. Like NBD. </span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Despite the momentary anxiety bucket diving can cause, it ultimately is a really cool thing to witness. As animal caregivers, we need to be humbled by the animals in our care. We have to have reminders that no matter what stage in our career we are at, or what kind of day we are having, we ultimately work for the animals. It cannot be any other way. If they want to exploit our momentary lapse of judgment regarding food receptacle placement, so be it. Let them feel free to do so. Let them always remind us that humans are not the be-all, end-all. And let them eat their snacks. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">** I know some of you guys wear fanny-pack pouches when you are in the water, but no one is impressed with a dolphin who steals fish from a container UNDER water.</span></div>
Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-59069820356167009382017-06-25T06:05:00.001-05:002017-06-25T06:05:58.207-05:00Let's Get Some Shoes<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br />Something happened to me a few days ago that inspired this week’s blog (with a little encouragement from Suzanne Smith...thank you!). This event was both puzzling and frustrating, but it lead to some really great memories as I thought about which ones to populate this entry with. <br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So what happened? Well, someone stole my flip flops.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheD_VFf4V6XujScIVFbmwpZ-OC02_6vxZm3z9nXwrJovcV_DjOgiB2MOd7yPjGHvFDL_GgoxVEB5hxUnS_crmYH5JR9oRGxDu4N7Z0fAoiP8aUoRRFqypecOkYHlqBk1L2ADwtWsuuSMug/s1600/tenor.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="197" data-original-width="350" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheD_VFf4V6XujScIVFbmwpZ-OC02_6vxZm3z9nXwrJovcV_DjOgiB2MOd7yPjGHvFDL_GgoxVEB5hxUnS_crmYH5JR9oRGxDu4N7Z0fAoiP8aUoRRFqypecOkYHlqBk1L2ADwtWsuuSMug/s320/tenor.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah. You read that right.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The last couple of months I have been swimming laps a lot at the Y. It’s felt AMAZING to get back in the water, even though it’s filled with a bunch of primates and not the animals I am used to seeing. Regardless, it feels like coming home every time I slip into the water.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">My routine involves a hot shower afterwards with temperatures nearing those found commonly on the surface of the sun, followed by a lazy walk back to my car (er, after I get dressed). By the time I am done with my workout and shower, I’ve got such a delicious runner’s high that nothing can get me down. That is, until Thursday when I realized my flip flops were missing.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FkqB4Mpw6X4ekDfD9g-3y3n45unqouTW6dXIGYm5I8aiNhFJXjHSxAZosieTCPRJeeNGISYnOMFGC4a4gY2-76aF0NWshD6EL1P_aJ27QQBS9ZSew7gr7UK_8jQFu6DHRTrHlFHotNcl/s1600/2z2gpkG.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="212" data-original-width="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7FkqB4Mpw6X4ekDfD9g-3y3n45unqouTW6dXIGYm5I8aiNhFJXjHSxAZosieTCPRJeeNGISYnOMFGC4a4gY2-76aF0NWshD6EL1P_aJ27QQBS9ZSew7gr7UK_8jQFu6DHRTrHlFHotNcl/s1600/2z2gpkG.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aaaaaand they're gone</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Like, what the eff. I don’t really think someone maliciously yoinked my shoes, but they were the only pair in the area AND they are pretty uh, worn. They’re Sanuk yoga mat sandals, so they do a fantastic job at keeping my feet comfortable as well as soaking up all of the sweat and god-knows-what-else they routinely encounter from both my feet, and the substrate they walk on. When I was moving from Fort Walton Beach to Baltimore, I furthered added to the uniqueness of said sandals by stepping enthusiastically on a gigantic, rusty nail sticking through a board (Home Alone style, people). Not only was there a gigantic hole in the sole of that flip flop, but it absorbed a healthy amount of blood. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Still, someone walked off with my skids, leaving me to walk barefoot out of the Y’s locker room like some kind of sopping wet hippie. I felt sad. I loved those shoes, because it’s hard to find shoes that are comfortable and last you a while through thick and thin. And you know what? Our work shoes are often like that.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Momma said they'd take me anyway-er</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">As a trainer, I worked within several different shoe worlds. In some places, we were issued Tevas that could only be worn in animal areas. This was fortunate, because it meant it took longer for them to smell because we could not wear them all the time. All other areas required white tennis shoes. This was unfortunate because they smelled roughly 3 seconds after first wear, because it was in Miami where no quasi-sane person voluntarily dons close-toed shoes.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...in Miami</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">At two other facilities, I got to wear flip flops or go barefoot. At two others, I wore close-toed boots for some or all of my day. In all jobs, my shoes were tortured in unforgivable ways. But the flip flops? Those took the brunt of the beating.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The reason for this was because of the type of sandals one needs in order to work in an wet environment with big (dolphins, sea lions, seals) and/or potentially aggressive animals (otters, penguins). Not only did they need to give you a good grip, they also needed to handle large amounts of fluids, not limited to salt water. Bleach, chlorhexidine, Roccal, betadine, Bully or Comet, bird poop, otter poop and pee, sea lion poop/pee/molasses tar mouth stuff from hell, fish blood and oil, your own sweat, sunscreen, and -if you were lucky- the tears of tourists you caught red-handed breaking into an exhibit.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out those flip flops. They broke one month later.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So your flip flops needed to be able to interact with many different matrices of liquid or semi-liquid substances AND still stay on your feet AND still keep you upright. They also needed to dry quickly, so you didn’t come back to work the next morning, step into your flip flops and experience the foamy squish so many of us know and love.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">And, because I really love all of you readers, I will not go into detail about how those shoes smelled. Mostly because I am already throwing up on my keyboard. </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">BUT! Now
that I am entering the world of forensic science, I wonder how like, if
it’s worth suggesting that part of the proficiency test for serology
and trace chemistry examiners is to take a marine mammal trainer’s shoes
(preferably flip flops or absorbent water shoes) and decide what the
hell is in them. <br /></span></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I
mean, would they have been able to tell that my black Sanuk’s were
exposed to a delightful misting of semi-gaseous sea lion diarrhea? Or
how about when Dapper the penguin bit me directly on my lip and sliced
it open, letting blood pour down my shirt and onto my shoes? </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I don’t know….but maybe I can use that as my thesis project this next year.</span></div>
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br />Oh, let me just mention how difficult it is to even find good work shoes nowadays. Has anyone else noticed that the trend to produce cheaper and cheaper stuff has resulted in....<br /><br />.....PLASTIC soles?<br /><br />Uh, thanks for pretending to make those sandals slip-proof by slapping a nice-looking tread design on the bottom. But try walking in those POS's on a sea lion deck and you're going down.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See ya later bye</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So when you find a good source of work shoes that:<br /><br />1) Do not smell<br />2) Maintain you in an upright position at most or all times<br />3) Do not remove the skin on your feet in uneven slices, one second at a time<br />4) Remain in tact for greater or equal to 8 weeks<br /><br />Then you know you have in your possession, the single most precious object that suddenly makes Gollum seem rational.<br /><br />So maybe it is this lingering feeling of Special Shoes It Took Forever To Find that made me so upset that my Sanuks went missing. Even though I don't clean pinniped habitats for a living anymore, I still feel the raw emotion of a good pair of flip flops suddenly being no more.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Anyways, it sure would’ve felt more satisfying had someone stolen one of the many pairs of shoes I’ve worn in my dolphin trainer career, knowing that at some point the thief would’ve wondered why their front hallway (or wherever they keep their footwear) smelled like a pile of dead bodies. Or why mushrooms are growing out of the hole in the sole.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I WANT</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">How about you guys? Let’s hear your best/worst work shoe stories!</span></div>
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Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-81415060857665111782017-06-18T05:58:00.002-05:002017-06-18T05:58:30.417-05:00Have A Good Time, All Of The Time<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">At the very end of the glorious movie This Is Spinal Tap, the keyboardist Viv Savaged says, "Have a good time, all of the time. That's my philosophy, Marty." <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Your philosophy goes to eleven.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">That quote pops into my head frequently, especially when working with animals. In fact, the other day at my forensics internship, some of the higher-ups stopped me to comment on my dolphin sleeve. They asked what my inspiration was for it, and I told them that my former career was in marine mammal training. Their response? “OH that must be such a fun job!”</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I know that as zookeepers, we tend to be wary of how the general public sees us. We do a job that appears to basically amount to what most people do on their weekends: hang out with their dogs, snuggle with their cats, send their parrots to attack their enemies, etc. The point is, it looks like a lot of fun to do our job. So much so, that we are often met with offensive lines of questioning dealing with our academic background (e.g. “Your job is not a real career”). As a result, we have our own internal script regarding how professional our job is, the journey we took to get to where we are, AND the intense physical and emotional labor that frankly, not everyone can do.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uh. Yeah I'm gonna need a lot more than 50k to do that.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But there is another aspect to the zookeeping field that people don't tend to see until they've actually done it. It can be boring. It can be frustrating. It is extremely repetitive in a lot of ways. And you don't have the option of cutting corners, unless you’re a butthead who forgot that you're 100% responsible for the well-being of the animals in your care. Zookeeping can, and does for many of us, become a “job”.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><a href="http://themiddleflipper.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-middle-flipper-career-guide-to.html" target="_blank">I wrote about this situation before</a>, giving suggestions on how I have gotten through moments where I felt totally unmotivated (<a href="http://themiddleflipper.blogspot.com/2015/05/an-aspiring-trainers-guide-to_31.html" target="_blank">and here is an amazing guest writer who wrote about something similar!</a>). But I want to focus on one aspect of it that I feel sometimes gets forgotten or (worse) frowned upon, depending on your training philosophy. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">One of the aspects of a marine mammal training job is learning what motivates each individual animal, and using that to reinforce whatever you’re training or maintaining. Somewhere along the timeline of operant conditioning of marine mammals, we as a field became oddly fixated on “primary” reinforcement as food. An entire diet is used for the main reward for behavior. In and of itself, this is fine as long as we are careful to not use its absence to correct or “motivate” animals to do something.**<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Listen to MJ!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Technically, primary reinforcement as defined by its original definer B.F. Skinner as something that directly rewards the behavior it follows. Secondary reinforcement is something that reinforces a behavior because it signals a primary reinforcer will be delivered. But as dolphin trainers, we saw that as primary = food. While that may be true for some animals (good LORD I have my fair share of stories of lunch box dolphins), that is not, in my opinion, an accurate interpretation of the definition.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Primary reinforcement can also be defined as “unconditioned” reinforcers. That….can seriously be anything. I worked with animals who were not food-motivated…including calves who were still nursing but would do anything for ice cubes and back rubs. Some animals learn on their own how much fun certain toys are, without pairing it with a primary reinforcer. Is a favorite toy of an animal a secondary reinforcer if it was never paired with primary? No. It’s a primary.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn30f8-R2fYCXp1SKX3qiLpvLKavQNS0mLSUcW4D4G3TQoBXfedI6GkvT8RA7ij5ni3ado3wXj5NHEec5osC52SMBGghC0PhcClMB046P75o_pj6GV1hFOfpxx4mSs4tdQv2zCOS-T-gVw/s1600/12540916_10101880041563541_2797795112559342041_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn30f8-R2fYCXp1SKX3qiLpvLKavQNS0mLSUcW4D4G3TQoBXfedI6GkvT8RA7ij5ni3ado3wXj5NHEec5osC52SMBGghC0PhcClMB046P75o_pj6GV1hFOfpxx4mSs4tdQv2zCOS-T-gVw/s320/12540916_10101880041563541_2797795112559342041_n.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This young man has tons of primaries. </td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Dolphins ESPECIALLY are easily trained with non-food rewards. I’ve worked with sea lion pups who had a faster learning rate and longer retention rate when frisbees were used as rewards versus big ass herring (which they chewed on and sometimes refused). I know a lot of you reading this are nodding your heads in agreement. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So why, when we get to the point in our job where we hit our first wall, is the first thing to go the BEST part of our job? Why do we fall into the misled belief that our job is to chuck prescribed amounts of fish at gaping mouths in order to get through our show, interaction, or husbandry session? Why are we looking at the clock as it inches towards the end of our shift?</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">There are a lot of complicated reasons why we get disillusioned, bored, or frustrated with our jobs. But you know what? The animals in our care can’t know that. They can’t receive less attention because of it. And the easiest way to deal with this? PLAY. PLAY. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have a good time, all of the time.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The fastest way I got out of a funk was to refocus my efforts on learning what the animals in my care actually dug. Not what I thought they did, not what I was taught previously. I used my background in behavioral analysis to understand that, if I am just limply flopping a basketball to a dolphin four inches from her face because I’m “using secondaries to be variable”, then I’m doing a major disservice to myself and (more importantly) the animal. What if I try new things? Does this dolphin get PSYCHED when I hurl a football as far as I can? Does this dolphin get extremely focused when I hide toys around the habitat? If the answer was yes, then I knew what my reinforcement was. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTSUzUQW6n4HoyaQBNXIAxI9uFyn98-niAPl4Kpe9N0JNOuALulp-znGLCHhf4PgA2dRwS7vqiZDJaL6wlB3OYj_2qHovqq_soHZHrnbHPJVQr29gKGrLTunFO2DoXKjm8MKEOUUzbtMt_/s1600/10537042_10152504814275743_2310645425722179432_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="540" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTSUzUQW6n4HoyaQBNXIAxI9uFyn98-niAPl4Kpe9N0JNOuALulp-znGLCHhf4PgA2dRwS7vqiZDJaL6wlB3OYj_2qHovqq_soHZHrnbHPJVQr29gKGrLTunFO2DoXKjm8MKEOUUzbtMt_/s400/10537042_10152504814275743_2310645425722179432_n.jpeg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plus, when I was playing with animals, I looked GREAT in photos </td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Most of the animals I’ve worked with (and with five facilities under my belt, I have had the honor of knowing many critters) LOVED. TO. PLAY. It wasn’t the same with each of them, but it was very challenging to find an animal who did not become more attentive and motivated when I just effing played with them. I kept my behavioral rules in place, I did not sacrifice my job as a trainer to be predictable and fair. But I tossed aside the bizarrely dry concepts of food motivation and allegedly “scientific” behavioral interpretation (hint: it was not scientific assessment, just more anthropomorphic assumptions) and found more motivated animals, more consistent behavior, AND a happier trainer. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEireqpHkqq3utopZTyG2v83aPagmUAx-7p_bgEaIkW_HITYpliHHm4T6E-ctduqIn4xP8BjhcFMNSM42EXAgo7MgWwgUC6Sb26-vxQ5RQwWAN22W7nR4_i76dL3b6JLigw_6zrsMflwEY3d/s1600/40866_707086051831_580672_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="720" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEireqpHkqq3utopZTyG2v83aPagmUAx-7p_bgEaIkW_HITYpliHHm4T6E-ctduqIn4xP8BjhcFMNSM42EXAgo7MgWwgUC6Sb26-vxQ5RQwWAN22W7nR4_i76dL3b6JLigw_6zrsMflwEY3d/s400/40866_707086051831_580672_n.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Life's too short and training's not as effective to not REALLY play :)</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">PLAY with your animals, guys. You won’t regret it. What is SO amazing about all of you is that you guys are super smart, you know your animals and the goals you have to achieve, so you know how to interpret this advice (if you find it valuable, of course). Do your animals a favor and actually be variable. Do your animals a favor and listen (er…watch) to what they are saying when you use a reinforcer. Simply, have FUN. You don’t owe anyone else an explanation about why you’re having fun in your job. You earned your position, you work your balls off, you spend more time with your work family than your own, you are in school debt for a degree you needed for the “little summer job” you’ve made your career, and your main responsibility is to provide the highest quality of life to the animals you are lucky enough to care for. HAVE FUN AND PLAY. :)<br /></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">* As an aside, one of the many overlaps I've discovered about dolphin training and forensic science is that my higher ups at my internship totally understand how public perception differs from how the job actually is. Everyone thinks being a “CSI” is really just wearing sexy clothes and solving crimes in 45 minutes, so anyone involved with actual forensic science can probably relate to the plight of zookeepers in this way.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">** If you are still doing this, STOP IT. </span></div>
Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-51448692005576584712017-06-11T05:54:00.001-05:002017-06-11T05:54:32.185-05:00Reality Bites<div style="font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAg6XEv_Rl-8xClEmFbX1EtTbX1PWqyaA8MfmkEVCqQeh8xCZJgqA_8tPBWeYpBmvT0PrcxbpgCYpI1m71c9XHz_-m249L2gQ5oeDomtMiU9Pfg4ZXdjuvSQcio1rFURE4Gzi7FyvrW6w/s1600/funny-shark-attack-hug-with-mouth-pics.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="621" data-original-width="468" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAg6XEv_Rl-8xClEmFbX1EtTbX1PWqyaA8MfmkEVCqQeh8xCZJgqA_8tPBWeYpBmvT0PrcxbpgCYpI1m71c9XHz_-m249L2gQ5oeDomtMiU9Pfg4ZXdjuvSQcio1rFURE4Gzi7FyvrW6w/s320/funny-shark-attack-hug-with-mouth-pics.jpeg" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With aaaarms wide open</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">It's a fact of life that most people who share their lives with animals (professionally or as companions) will get bit by an animal. As zookeepers, we spend a measurable portion of our guest interactions sharing this fact with people who appear to be surprised that the animals we care for bite...even in the case of top predators. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">What baffles me about the question is that people get bit by their pets all the time. But what isn't so surprising is that I think many of us kind of cover up this fact when it happens. We are okay talking about the theoreticals (e.g. "Well any animal with a mouth can bite") but when it REALLY happens, especially to US, it feels like The Worst Thing Ever. <br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was you</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">When people's pets bite, it's usually chalked up to an accident. And sometimes, that is accurate. Maybe you held a dog treat in a weird way, and as your ancient, sweet golden retriever goes to take it from your hand, her one remaining tooth grazes your fingernail or something. Sometimes, your pet definitely bites you. Like, a sun conure flies at your face and chews on your neck. But you still call it an accident, or you sweep that story under the rug. And then you roll up the rug, and throw it into a tar pit and light the entire thing on fire.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Sometimes, we professional animal people do the same thing. Despite what animal rights extremists say, we don't usually "cover" anything up because we want to lie to the public. Granted, I know that is sometimes the case, but not commonly. Most of us are more than happy to talk to guests about the safety precautions we take when working with exotic animals....if only to discourage our guests from trying to interact with these animals in the wild, should they come across them.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">No, most of us just feel really SAD when we get bit. And mortified. And insecure.<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NOOOOOO</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This extends to other forms of aggression, like pushing, fluking, charging, grabbing, whatever. When an animal we think we have a great relationship with suddenly hurts us (or tries) the only reason we wouldn't want to talk about it is because....we are real sad.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">For me, the best example of this was with Alvin, an old dude bottlenose dolphin I worked with at Marineland. Alvin was one of my favorite animals. He was in his mid 40s and if you didn't really work to get to know him, he was the archetypal Old Man that is ubiquitous in social mammals, humans included. You know, totally crusty, only has two emotions ("Pissed" and "GIRRRRLS"), and doesn't give a crap that you exist.<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34vjJ2EjzHblMkBiG3lTPgLi4_7skoC1v-x1f-QW9QyUQR30g66RtnqG6VWT4bB2cIv1cSzd7QEe1z6XJdtxg0kcfqHc9z8A2m1V2SVMhC-9SsZA_w7kDcADJBve57PYAhsraNryJLZzz/s1600/cat31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1532" data-original-width="1494" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34vjJ2EjzHblMkBiG3lTPgLi4_7skoC1v-x1f-QW9QyUQR30g66RtnqG6VWT4bB2cIv1cSzd7QEe1z6XJdtxg0kcfqHc9z8A2m1V2SVMhC-9SsZA_w7kDcADJBve57PYAhsraNryJLZzz/s320/cat31.jpg" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He got multi-species action</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">BUT, there was something about this guy that I really liked. And as I got to know him, I realized that he had a few things he really dug. He liked footballs and pool noodles, especially if you got really into playing with them, not the limp-wristed, cursory play we sometimes fall into when we use toys as reinforcement (I mean come on, PLAY, people!). He started soliciting attention outside of session, and I just fell completely in love.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Occasionally, our old boys would do shallow-water interactions. They were pretty much the masters of the pool side encounters, but their long and varied history with water work provided some unique challenges when introducing guests in the water (namely, they had no interest in just sitting still with a bunch of tourists). By the time I worked there, the boys were pretty good at shallow-water programs, but still did them sparingly since they didn't really seem to dig them as much as the girls and younger guys.<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrO-uv2iJS0MfBsn7piuVP_OTzFUaZPhG_oi2RGIzP5IkA5eDMolvjU3DPXbDND5GyatOLx8h_D2wAJIydvYZ_MkEi8v-u1ZqvNrGFWPZHel8vhwF5BMhf7qb0DnuzKQpJ2aHoxYziIWot/s1600/911_10153888427262958_1121609725188831270_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="604" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrO-uv2iJS0MfBsn7piuVP_OTzFUaZPhG_oi2RGIzP5IkA5eDMolvjU3DPXbDND5GyatOLx8h_D2wAJIydvYZ_MkEi8v-u1ZqvNrGFWPZHel8vhwF5BMhf7qb0DnuzKQpJ2aHoxYziIWot/s400/911_10153888427262958_1121609725188831270_n.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at that handsome stud in the center. This was in the mid-80s</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So okay, we wind up with three calves born at the same time. Awesome, right? YES. But not so awesome when you're an interaction facility, and the calves are born in June which is just at the beginning of an insanely busy summer season. That meant we needed to rotate the boys through to shallow-water programs more than we typically would, so the other non-mom dolphins wouldn't have to do all the programs for three months.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I took Alvin a lot during that time. And I was having fun. I thought Alvin was, too. There were toys. There was new training. The guests had fun, and I had fun. Alvin was going nuts for his footballs. So I started doing some new things. I started swimming alongside him in the water (I was still on a ledge). He seemed to be really into that....I chalked it up to his old show days. He became very attentive and solicited more tactile. His behavior became crisper when I used the swim-alongs as reinforcement. <br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuii2wW07NSkbHoh6c8qpAzGXWIGLDBstPQ0SXEAyMf0C1yJQbM0vQ6fPbyHZAoqFZDA2i4TXGsQEMR0Evvd_h7lZbC65aJYfN6HdBj5MRP7WmYSoaigf-cRLuWOWGlrj7s5u6l6NSPkdj/s1600/13-everything-is-awesom.w529.h352.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="351" data-original-width="529" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuii2wW07NSkbHoh6c8qpAzGXWIGLDBstPQ0SXEAyMf0C1yJQbM0vQ6fPbyHZAoqFZDA2i4TXGsQEMR0Evvd_h7lZbC65aJYfN6HdBj5MRP7WmYSoaigf-cRLuWOWGlrj7s5u6l6NSPkdj/s320/13-everything-is-awesom.w529.h352.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everything is cool when you do swim-alongs</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">And then one day, at the end of a program as I sent my guests walking out of the habitat, I floated in hip-deep water and let my feet float towards Alvin. I was talking to the guests as they ascended up the zero entry beach, letting them know I would be right behind them and where they could put their life jackets. As I turned back to Alvin, BAM. He rushed at me and grabbed my left calf with his mouth, chomped down, and pulled his jaw down the length of my leg. After he let go, he stared at me with his head under the water. I don't even remember now what I did, but I got out and saw a giant rake mark down my leg. His teeth were very worn down, so it was a very superficial injury. Had his teeth been sharp, that would've been gnarly.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But what hurt most? My feelings. I know there are trainers out there moaning right now, and shame on you. We say we spend so much of our time cultivating relationships with the animals under our care, and yet we deny the very normal emotions that come along with that, in good times and in bad.<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78S5ekbho5lMfhPUUAvoGlQB-52M9Fak_lAP5EVNLRbjdbrcP97tmR-Hgotg2T_pPMFVpwfrE8xx4NoLKsgr_j_X6K6-cDTw3SJ9D3bLCEIX6Xs3nJElugtPeyhjVM_r1kaVMk8MhGMWD/s1600/whyyyyy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="366" data-original-width="500" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78S5ekbho5lMfhPUUAvoGlQB-52M9Fak_lAP5EVNLRbjdbrcP97tmR-Hgotg2T_pPMFVpwfrE8xx4NoLKsgr_j_X6K6-cDTw3SJ9D3bLCEIX6Xs3nJElugtPeyhjVM_r1kaVMk8MhGMWD/s320/whyyyyy.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maybe I should just quit and become a forensic scientist</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I thought I was completely wrong about my rapport with Alvin. Why would he do that to me? I thought we had something special. But if we did, he would never have bit me. If I was a good trainer, that wouldn't have happened. I couldn't hide what happened, because I had a moral and ethical obligation to tell the rest of the team what happened. But I was totally embarrassed. This would just prove that the connection I felt with Alvin was all in my head.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But you know what? No. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I looked back at what I had done that session and leading up to his aggressive act. I got cocky. I took my attention away from him, meaning I couldn't read his body language, or any precursors where he might have told me, "Cat, STOP. I don't like this." I just let my feet float up in his face, turned myself away from a longer period of time than I normally would, and ignored him. I don't know what was going on in his head, but I do know that how I acted that day was not consistent whatsoever with how I normally interacted with him.<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGXphMj_v68Ld8IKl7sGiPUBFDYEQLzFT3_tVX4IKxRSnZPneQ_nFevVRhhS_kgc4VULBsiX3eLn1AzjHrB519qjDG0fMfuHZwshfDXf4R-Z-arZ_xDwW-FKLbW-BoCxXBIovxBdsIqaM3/s1600/16197-Everythings-My-Fault.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="333" data-original-width="500" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGXphMj_v68Ld8IKl7sGiPUBFDYEQLzFT3_tVX4IKxRSnZPneQ_nFevVRhhS_kgc4VULBsiX3eLn1AzjHrB519qjDG0fMfuHZwshfDXf4R-Z-arZ_xDwW-FKLbW-BoCxXBIovxBdsIqaM3/s320/16197-Everythings-My-Fault.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Preach, Kurt.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Several weeks later, he had more aggressive incidents with a few other trainers....and come to find out, he had lost a significant amount of vision in one eye. This vision loss was severe and while dolphins do not need their eyesight to do their dolphin thing, it was not an easy change to deal with, especially when none of the trainers were aware of it until it was visually obvious.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I realized how selfish I was being. First, it isn't all about ME when an animal bites. Are there things that I did or didn't do that contribute to that? Yes. Sometimes, those things are 99% of the reason why an animal aggresses. Other times, I am just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Second, aggression is communication. It is the last effort to convey a really serious (at least in the animal's mind) problem. That might mean you as a trainer are not listening. It also might mean the animal has experienced something so out of their comfort zone that they are not using their normal, rational brain. Third, aggression is almost always a two-way street. The animal bite you, yes, but you played a role in that, big or small. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Lastly, my relationship with Alvin placed me in a prime spot for aggression. How?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Think about it. Who in your life hurts you the most? Who are you the most comfortable around, where you say things that you wouldn't necessarily say to others?<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSWjt-dZd6lQ3TrVrdqqfsyysAjAkPfpA0Rt4l9WoEIoQsiL0wrDn3ltmLOAdO9hLT3EbFIfDqzgPR92MA90cDtRW3IoBvf2jFq9_EOcn9eImPImZh_ozC2_20N3gIStupZz9xT7BcGwC/s1600/catalvin01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1063" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSWjt-dZd6lQ3TrVrdqqfsyysAjAkPfpA0Rt4l9WoEIoQsiL0wrDn3ltmLOAdO9hLT3EbFIfDqzgPR92MA90cDtRW3IoBvf2jFq9_EOcn9eImPImZh_ozC2_20N3gIStupZz9xT7BcGwC/s400/catalvin01.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alvin telling me all of his deepest secrets, which mostly had to do with lady dolphins</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The people you have close relationships with are on the front lines of aggression, passive or active. And there is no difference with animals.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Don't get me wrong, I understand there are situations where an animal will aggress on caretakers who they don't know well. What I'm saying is, when an animal with whom you have a close relationship bites you or charges you, it doesn't mean your relationship is worthless. It means you need to reassess what you have been doing and be honest about if it is working or not. It means you need to not make excuses for the animal and take the aggression seriously, for consistency sake. Sometimes, it might mean that what you were doing was NOT good for that particular animal. <br /><br />Also, please understand that I am not diminishing the seriousness of these situations. I am in no way encouraging people to get excited about being bitten or pushed or charged, nor do I think it is something we should be light-hearted about. Aggression is not fun, and it is something we strive to eliminate, and it can be extremely dangerous. Even when it isn't dire, it is something that embarrasses and scares us. Setting aside really bad aggression (like, threatening life and limb), getting superficially hurt by an animal is a message, if you listen to what the animal is saying. It is a gift if you can set aside that primal reaction of humiliation, defensiveness, or broken heartedness. It is an opportunity, just like the drop down drag out fights you have among your loved ones, to learn from one another. That is what intimacy is. It is seeing each other in your very best and very worst, and accepting all of it. <br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHzFj5bik3Wf3xl4gSvV6ZNwFE7n4UE0w9AW72hWfNh1W-TQ5tOk8cnhPsZzVtk_M44kXzd_0k55-kXo5fZ9dBbNCBY0QE6meWUHD_p68ya5EIgd3aJrrizP4sYU9hwe6xqPJK0Qomy-0h/s1600/tumblr_m7hg1jEndg1r1vrd1o1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="313" data-original-width="500" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHzFj5bik3Wf3xl4gSvV6ZNwFE7n4UE0w9AW72hWfNh1W-TQ5tOk8cnhPsZzVtk_M44kXzd_0k55-kXo5fZ9dBbNCBY0QE6meWUHD_p68ya5EIgd3aJrrizP4sYU9hwe6xqPJK0Qomy-0h/s320/tumblr_m7hg1jEndg1r1vrd1o1_500.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">IF I MUST</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">In closing, biting needs to be taken seriously from a safety and behavioral perspective. But in most cases, it does not automatically mean you are insane for thinking you have a good relationship with an animal. In fact, having a good relationship doesn't mean you will never get bitten...it usually means the opposite*.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">* Unless you work with otters, whose personalities suddenly freeze and recede deep within themselves, leaving nothing but pure physical otterness that will express itself via horrific biting. </span></span><br />
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Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-71729684157147509792017-06-04T07:27:00.000-05:002017-06-04T07:27:08.024-05:00Life After Zookeeping, Part 1<div style="font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Last week, I went to the Maryland Zoo. That was a significant trip for a few reasons:<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmWf39gQBFQAIbDcdLtPc65ioqeUKLmvWQp4hJgAdzgpmL5rfQ685PJxfBglZD_Bolotgf9AsygayQQB49U5JhqxFHUtarY9eXFNDk0AfZujSeGaXETjKZ81ASQICY0dW-clrIW45h6_z/s1600/samsoncover2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="209" data-original-width="564" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmWf39gQBFQAIbDcdLtPc65ioqeUKLmvWQp4hJgAdzgpmL5rfQ685PJxfBglZD_Bolotgf9AsygayQQB49U5JhqxFHUtarY9eXFNDk0AfZujSeGaXETjKZ81ASQICY0dW-clrIW45h6_z/s400/samsoncover2.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">:)</td></tr>
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1. <span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">It was my first time to the zoo since I moved here over a year ago</span><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">2. It was the first time my daughter could actually identify the animals and gave s*** about them</span><br /><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">3. It was the first time I've been to a zoo or aquarium since I left the field in October</span></span><ol>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">It's the last point I want to make this week's blog about.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I remember long before I got into the field, I read the book Lads Before The Wind by Karen Pryor. It quickly became one of my favorites, but there was one part that really bothered me. It's when she talks about returning to Sea Life Park after she left, seeing the animals she spent so much time with, and concluding that she really didn't miss them that much. <br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUugAuYipramAy5trKog0OpKlMJtYL67BvSXWddP4Sew5nPdwgwWzJXTARKuMdIsGBJGJz0FJMNuAq5mBCRqCOpPrWUoPA3mUJDtqh_gI2KZXyCYvJux5fF9o-v2hH0JHnJoo69wH45zE7/s1600/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="304" data-original-width="575" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUugAuYipramAy5trKog0OpKlMJtYL67BvSXWddP4Sew5nPdwgwWzJXTARKuMdIsGBJGJz0FJMNuAq5mBCRqCOpPrWUoPA3mUJDtqh_gI2KZXyCYvJux5fF9o-v2hH0JHnJoo69wH45zE7/s320/giphy.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How. Is. That. Even. Possible.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">It struck fear in my heart then, and for the entire duration of my career. I couldn't understand how anyone could not instantly weep at the thought of leaving the animals they love so much. Now, as I progressed through my career, I learned that every keeper has their own, personal way of processing their emotions when it came to leaving the animals in their life. So I am not in any way saying that the only appropriate response is to ugly cry.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But what I struggled with was how someone could leave not just the animals, but the field in general, and not be totally wrecked. Worse, what if you left the field and just became apathetic? Like you look fondly back at parts of your career, but overall you don't really care.<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4aKgvrVNVwRUMa9-2mc8g_ZbMxVmbwWLq9R2dMNCmeKxQZMDG9-pY7O2T_h-YAYn8aBIWL-cjuzxQTnGrdtKi6gE0ANp5m9Fu-kMixDY5hXLMCAYNBwAGqzC7FZ7ge3OSHeVpTNT4gKnS/s1600/dc3e5191454bdafbba6f7a377fad4827.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="550" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4aKgvrVNVwRUMa9-2mc8g_ZbMxVmbwWLq9R2dMNCmeKxQZMDG9-pY7O2T_h-YAYn8aBIWL-cjuzxQTnGrdtKi6gE0ANp5m9Fu-kMixDY5hXLMCAYNBwAGqzC7FZ7ge3OSHeVpTNT4gKnS/s320/dc3e5191454bdafbba6f7a377fad4827.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No arguments here, Wednesday.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">My decision to switch careers was one that was made over several years. The new path was distilled over many, many oscillations of insecurity and confidence regarding my future in the marine mammal community. When I made the choice, it was something I knew was right....but it was still fraught with anxiety.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">My style of dealing with heartbreak is usually to just completely cut off whatever it is that is hurting me. So I basically avoided zoological institutions, because I was afraid I would either feel like I was totally shattered at not being directly connected to animals and the zoo world, or (again WORSE) that I would just be like, "Oh, I don't miss this at all."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Enter Maryland Zoo. I was terrified, and I don't think anyone knew that even as we walked through the gates. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ZvnQ_-csBp0ybMKQXj59crgHvbcqWBjq3bKkSutwKQL9sWtN6OGmuFHq0QZznKGfRVtrxNsODX3_bXEZZjFUtXMJy2W8qSCk3sfLm-J1tpWHPdhwjvTQHQxJSaPpjg99sJbaX4U5QzNl/s1600/dont-go-there.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="344" data-original-width="500" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ZvnQ_-csBp0ybMKQXj59crgHvbcqWBjq3bKkSutwKQL9sWtN6OGmuFHq0QZznKGfRVtrxNsODX3_bXEZZjFUtXMJy2W8qSCk3sfLm-J1tpWHPdhwjvTQHQxJSaPpjg99sJbaX4U5QzNl/s320/dont-go-there.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Um</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Maryland Zoo is GORGEOUS. It is surrounded by incredibly lush forest, its layout takes you through winding paths of towering trees. The exhibits are amazing, from an animal care/wellness perspective but also from an educational and conservation standpoint. It is one of the best zoos I have gone to. Its overall design and layout were enough to distract me for a while from my insecurity.<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1DIUAmjDCoMSg_z5Tzwk5cbYtsYKSqWFldrJb00z02e5Z6RPE25Ww9gKTSGG_KV6TphM7GiTzQ8Hwlf_Vsm4V9hpGIH7ikB7IdDQHJ1U5wY611SUiwG7fzNfm_G9-CZPEy8Jg8DC19QQf/s1600/gorgeous-scenery.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="338" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1DIUAmjDCoMSg_z5Tzwk5cbYtsYKSqWFldrJb00z02e5Z6RPE25Ww9gKTSGG_KV6TphM7GiTzQ8Hwlf_Vsm4V9hpGIH7ikB7IdDQHJ1U5wY611SUiwG7fzNfm_G9-CZPEy8Jg8DC19QQf/s320/gorgeous-scenery.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This photo from Trip Advisor shows the awesome walk to the exhibits </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But then we got to the African penguin habitat (OH MY GOD. Amazzzzzzzing), and things changed. I saw a few penguins molting, looking like physical representations (or blobs) of crabbiness. I heard their hilarious "wooohhhhh" calls, smelled a smell that used to knock me backwards when I worked at Gulfarium, and -as my daughter pointed out with much delight- watched the penguins poop ("poot" if you're my 2 year old) in the water. My kid went nuts. And I said without thinking, "Hey, mom used to work with this type of penguin!"<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pGEe8-Cp2lcq5nQ4yZD0Oe-dwdDGb2PR5KhUV2XfvEmRs1SXrTT8L4sk3eUGrRIkxCZo8KiCWxc5I_Px59zljChk10_DrmHGbXHCI6G76YuW7KG-SgmYjBs-1vMUPaE6xHF25NdIiDdB/s1600/the-maryland-zoo.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="367" data-original-width="550" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1pGEe8-Cp2lcq5nQ4yZD0Oe-dwdDGb2PR5KhUV2XfvEmRs1SXrTT8L4sk3eUGrRIkxCZo8KiCWxc5I_Px59zljChk10_DrmHGbXHCI6G76YuW7KG-SgmYjBs-1vMUPaE6xHF25NdIiDdB/s400/the-maryland-zoo.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LOOK AT THIS PENGUIN EXHIBIT</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Suddenly, I noticed a penguin that looked a lot like one of the ladies I used to care for (Zeut, for anyone reading this who knows the Gulfarium flock). The combination of speaking allowed the since-past part of my life with marine animals with seeing a penguin who reminded me of another one made me suddenly really sad. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">You know what it felt like? It felt like a break up, a few months or whatever afterwards, where someone brings up the name of your ex and you think you're over him/her but you quickly realize that there is still a noticeable pang in your heart. You have a feeling like, you know it's okay that it is over, but at the same time it feels like you are missing something really important. You don't feel whole.<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhzNrisWor3Bf5xWpUCnIyRmKQUOrG3eAQL6KYANYqr84hBgtps5_0hXeaKd7IKQKepFKD6sTUGKKxfZeqtx-9HgGD28DmNwhzIT8JDXzl28GoACDfO22gZNVc5SOsIffqcz15AZR8D-C/s1600/70f355521d2b9eeefe07f411d1d3a286eb77527e4d14f8e65ca2e65a7a50f3a9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="598" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhzNrisWor3Bf5xWpUCnIyRmKQUOrG3eAQL6KYANYqr84hBgtps5_0hXeaKd7IKQKepFKD6sTUGKKxfZeqtx-9HgGD28DmNwhzIT8JDXzl28GoACDfO22gZNVc5SOsIffqcz15AZR8D-C/s320/70f355521d2b9eeefe07f411d1d3a286eb77527e4d14f8e65ca2e65a7a50f3a9.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What relief!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">It also feels like you are no longer a part of this amazing society anymore. Do any other former keepers feel this way? Like duh, obviously you're not actually employed by a zoo or aquarium, but that unspoken connection between zoo folk only seems to be reserved for people actively in the field (not a criticism, just an observation about my own feelings on the subject). And it isn't because people who are still in zoo jobs make you feel that way. It's just something that happens in your own brain.<br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Man, this entry is getting a little heavy. The good news is, my trip to the Maryland Zoo did not go downhill from that point. I mean, I saw a baby giraffe. It is medically impossible to feel sad when you see a giraffe cafe. But I also got to overhear some pretty great guest comments. These were made even better by the fact that the zoo was having its Brew At The Zoo event, so some of these people had imbibed malted adult beverages. I am pleased to share with you some of these quotes.</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Overheard by the grizzly and polar bear exhibits</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">"Remember the guy who feel in the polar bear exhibit? He was drunk or something and he fell in and the bear ate him. I think. Or he escaped. The man, not the bear. Maybe I am making it up."<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8TAEXtFm_mo67fDfT4wzcKhE51c6-GvHhIV9x6qN1So9XXuAqaIfz__jMVU8ajd9pbRS-WCOfUXOMJa0HW1mlMNYysWE8BtQBBxnEgJiNXGrieDh2ZMGkrAONKzmGxrRpL94ed9ViKMnM/s1600/giphy1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="212" data-original-width="450" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8TAEXtFm_mo67fDfT4wzcKhE51c6-GvHhIV9x6qN1So9XXuAqaIfz__jMVU8ajd9pbRS-WCOfUXOMJa0HW1mlMNYysWE8BtQBBxnEgJiNXGrieDh2ZMGkrAONKzmGxrRpL94ed9ViKMnM/s400/giphy1.gif" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I...don't know.</td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">An exchange between two very drunk people watching two spurred tortoises uh, doing what tortoises do best</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Man: Doesn't this remind you of something?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Woman: The tortoise and the hare!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Man: No. Something else</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Woman: Oh...oh! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Man: Like...Jordis? No. Uh...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Woman: OH! Jordan and Cher!!!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Man: No....oh!! Jack and Diane!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">......WTF<br /></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><b>A woman who basically appeared at every exhibit we were at (could not establish her level of sobriety) uttered the following nonsense in a very calm, matter-of-fact tone: </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><i>At the penguin habitat </i><br /><br />"I wish they would like let the penguins fight each other like for mates. So they could tear each other up."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><i>At the cheetah exhibit </i><br /><br />"I wish they would like put a rabbit in there and let them tear it up." <br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Okay, just go away.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">These moments of levity, the awesome exhibits and general cool vibe of the zoo definitely helped me process my not-so-great feelings. Maryland Zoo peeps...you guys are doing a great job, at least from my perspective.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The thing is, I do really miss working with the animals I've come to know and love. I also miss a lot of humans currently in or long since retired. Despite this, I am still really excited about my new direction. It feels like it was the right time to jump off. And I am okay. I am happy, even though I still feel a hole in my heart where the animals were. </span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">For all former keepers (or anyone seriously considering switching careers), what has your experience been? </span></span></div>
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Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-70972572293623845022017-05-28T06:53:00.002-05:002017-05-28T06:54:23.622-05:00The Significance of The Uniform<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">You know, for someone who is really not "into" fashion, I feel like I've written a fair amount of blogs about clothes. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">And here's another one!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The other day, I saw that one of my former employers got brand new rash guards, prompting a series of awesome group shots showing off their shiny new digs. And that got me thinking about the clothes we wear as zookeepers.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This this amazing ensemble, which prompted my grandmother to ask "Who is that man?" when I showed her this photo of me at work</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So for most of us, this is really a matter of function. But it starts out as a badge of honor, if you think about it. It is pretty awesome to don your first work shirt with STAFF or TRAINER or GODDESS OF THE UNIVERSE on it. It also immediately identifies you based on the longevity of your tenure at that particular facility. In fact, there are a lot of things our uniforms do (both good and evil) that I think are worth taking a second to address.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><u><b><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">1. As mentioned above, uniforms can identify how long you have been at a place</span></b></u></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Look at those crisp new digs. I was a baby trainer...maybe a month into the job.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">D'uh, some of this is pretty obvious. Let's talk about my first day at Miami Seaquarium. Or Clearwater (as an intern). In both cases, these were my FIRST uniforms. Clearwater was the first place I was ever involved in the marine mammal training community. It had a standard uniform shirt, but everything else was up to me to provide. So I had swishy black wind pants and Tevas. I also had no clue what the general "work attire" vibe was, so I showed up to my internship utterly drowning in make up.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Okay, can we just talk about that for a second? I am still like super embarrassed about this. I'm not saying it is wrong to wear make-up to work if you're a dolphin trainer. Plenty of you guys do it and well, good work. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfw727aiPaHGEndGPTRJfiVu6XVxNKTpS2vs_FcfBzpC_j1XLTdLyXjXfIZfaLJAUajHvXZni5VbT8UfZhTrqL4kG8qNKD-4B4fz5k9g7LX68m3-GnaWOnTW9mA3GydZCGXQ9uaZd7q8sC/s1600/730016.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="498" data-original-width="500" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfw727aiPaHGEndGPTRJfiVu6XVxNKTpS2vs_FcfBzpC_j1XLTdLyXjXfIZfaLJAUajHvXZni5VbT8UfZhTrqL4kG8qNKD-4B4fz5k9g7LX68m3-GnaWOnTW9mA3GydZCGXQ9uaZd7q8sC/s320/730016.jpeg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Just make sure your makeup doesn't run</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">The thing is, I have NEVER pulled off make-up wearing well, not in any facet of my life. I just look like some kind of B-movie horror film villain and/or a Bratz doll. I also bought the cheapest stuff available, mostly because it took me until I was 30 to realize you can buy good stuff (read: waterproof) from actual cosmetic stores, versus my main source of the stuff *cough Walgreens cough*. Wait, I'm lying. Walgreens was for fancy occasions, such as weddings and/or first dates that went horribly awry. Everyday makeup was purchased at the grocery store. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Anyways, so I totally showed up in my brand new wind pants and a Killer Clowns From Outer Space face to my internship, my enormous quantity of hair draped over my person like a wet towel....let's just say my lack of bleach stains on my clothing were not what tipped people off to my n00bness.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This is a more pleasant image than what I looked like on my first day as an intern</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">At Miami, I was a little savvier about personal appearance. But I still felt like a new kid in school when I walked around with radioactively white shoes and perfectly ironed khaki shorts.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Am I right or amiright when I say we can all make pretty decent guesses at the length of employment of animal caregivers based on: sun-fadedness, bleach stains, holes, and/or the intangible badassery that surrounds a confident zookeeper like a magical aura?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><u><b><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">2. At some point, new uniforms absolutely make your day</span></b></u></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Glory days.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I've worked at places that REALLY care about your appearance, and places that really didn't, and places that were somewhere in between. And in all of those cases, there was one thing that made everybody happy:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">New work clothes. Especially wetsuits. Oh god.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My brand new wetsuit (right)!! So shiny and new! </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">When I worked for Marineland when it was privately owned, we had a pretty baller logo and the clothes were cool and functional. We had rash guards, tank tops, normal shirts, wind breakers, wind pants, sweat pants, sweat shirts, swim suits, viser, khaki shorts and pants, and board shorts (THAT WHEN THEY GOT WET THESE HIBISCUS FLOWERS APPEARED OMG OMG IT WAS AMAZING), and the standard issue of full and shorty wetsuits. I LOVED those uniform pieces. The only problem was that the super comfy bathing suits um, became see-through around the butt area.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Yeah. It would start with the butt crack. And then, like some kind of disease, the fabric surrounding your butt crack would grow into a sheer window so that everyone could see what your momma gave you. When waiting for new suits, we would wear bikini bottoms in order to prevent the public from gazing upon our glorious cabooses (I mean, they didn't pay enough for that show). It goes without saying that it was a joyous occasion to get a new bathing suit.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisROl9DGOJ6b8uSgGJZ45Opz2a7fgDEgPaTOM3fb_BohcH6-7wBFu_aK76iytJQNXmg4JieLkB-Bk5mAMPQMFfQwRmYWAYBPqnT5FEfLL6yVb9zDAvs-YGvmNv3wum52L4wQMEVNTnBR7Q/s1600/200.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisROl9DGOJ6b8uSgGJZ45Opz2a7fgDEgPaTOM3fb_BohcH6-7wBFu_aK76iytJQNXmg4JieLkB-Bk5mAMPQMFfQwRmYWAYBPqnT5FEfLL6yVb9zDAvs-YGvmNv3wum52L4wQMEVNTnBR7Q/s1600/200.gif" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Exactly.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But other things really made a difference. You work outdoors in FL or any other hot climate, you know that sweat stains turn a color currently not understood by science and will not go away no matter what you treat it with, including fire. There is a point at which your old work shirt turns a corner into a category that requires action including but not limited to: dragging it behind a shed and shooting it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">At Gulfarium, we had these rain jackets that basically absorbed water and deposited it efficiently to all points of the human body most prone to immediate heat loss. As such, we decided to pool our money together and use a coworker's absolutely unnatural talent at sniffing out a deal (and her employee discount at Eddie Bauer) to buy some freaking AMAZING foul weather jackets. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNjrQsfw3nq_54ufot0aorv7FMW_yzOE2SPSjMoVebY0uL4-6CuDyZmzSnYSpT40sHkEMh95NZhiwu2xWZNCLbXK8hgAordO-aNQEHakUiG1wHyRPtD3tD52oYqZl75SYdkygjiIwJPkv7/s1600/1979880_10152066960423225_37637782643762013_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNjrQsfw3nq_54ufot0aorv7FMW_yzOE2SPSjMoVebY0uL4-6CuDyZmzSnYSpT40sHkEMh95NZhiwu2xWZNCLbXK8hgAordO-aNQEHakUiG1wHyRPtD3tD52oYqZl75SYdkygjiIwJPkv7/s640/1979880_10152066960423225_37637782643762013_n.jpeg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Check out that incredible foul weather gear I'm rocking. Also, this was a Peeps eating contest.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Guys, we made an entire evening out of this event. It was an event. We knew that we had to use our money to buy these things, but these things were incredible. We all went shopping for them, and celebrated our purchase by GOING OUT TO DINNER. For months, we talked about how amazing these rain jackets were. Waterproof pockets, waterPROOF material that only soaked through after hours of relentless downpour but dried super fast, a zip-in fleece for those colder days. Ah-mazing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><u><b><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">3. But there is nothing like a broken-in set o' clothes</span></b></u></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgG4Ym3U9VbRvKWI7ll-fJR-w7k5E4XjWTP2pVjaqwGKgnDDDKvPcrKvRLRzBQkeV4C5S2DjezPrjzU4xGdr8-QRYDNMNa7CBDmMd_9ZQ7rWvV3Jpi0V-lImPQxhZKFnNgUOvQlFqGu0N/s1600/cat227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgG4Ym3U9VbRvKWI7ll-fJR-w7k5E4XjWTP2pVjaqwGKgnDDDKvPcrKvRLRzBQkeV4C5S2DjezPrjzU4xGdr8-QRYDNMNa7CBDmMd_9ZQ7rWvV3Jpi0V-lImPQxhZKFnNgUOvQlFqGu0N/s320/cat227.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Look how happy I am in my broken-in wetsuit</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Like anything, it is impossible to categorize an experience in absolutes. Yes, new uniforms are great. But before it gets to that health-hazard and/or see-through phase, it has its glory days. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Wetsuits are a fab example of this. New wetsuits are nice when your old one can basically stand on its own (more on this later), but it really does require some serious breaking in. There is nothing like slipping into someone else's wetsuit to realize how differently the human body is shaped, even if you are the same size.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Or, ha, like I did for a while, when I would put on a guy's wetsuit before I got one of my own. I wore it so much that conformed pretty well to my body, except for that enormous, gaping space in the nether regions that made me seriously afraid of encountering the man who used to use that wetsuit. Or rather, made me wonder why anyone would need a space that large to accommodate any body part.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYHI1hvZd6cyWj5MA_fMazUOb76_QVdZfz3XznQoJ4wu8_D_9hFsneZhOrmu4IdhyxCV3XWrEpLZc_tjmVolBmwzSDu4kXFW72s6-I1UyDzvwgUQPy8PRqsWo-UAUHLm5RCx5mqy34JxR/s1600/43477298.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="630" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYHI1hvZd6cyWj5MA_fMazUOb76_QVdZfz3XznQoJ4wu8_D_9hFsneZhOrmu4IdhyxCV3XWrEpLZc_tjmVolBmwzSDu4kXFW72s6-I1UyDzvwgUQPy8PRqsWo-UAUHLm5RCx5mqy34JxR/s320/43477298.jpeg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To creators of male wetsuits everywhere</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><u><b><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">4. Old uniforms can also make your day the Absolute Worst</span></b></u></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia2Y5Hmw_ZOLzYrAstBOs2AVyuJX5C2wXI3H1CTapYEYqbncZKsTpY-AN-4PULEO3rn5yhvWeKzaMv_GFcRt5jQXNODdnwUzhyphenhyphenr4FUMiliz622qrYcp2NEmEFYPCjKb5nPdOdAL2ZBXAcS/s1600/cattina01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia2Y5Hmw_ZOLzYrAstBOs2AVyuJX5C2wXI3H1CTapYEYqbncZKsTpY-AN-4PULEO3rn5yhvWeKzaMv_GFcRt5jQXNODdnwUzhyphenhyphenr4FUMiliz622qrYcp2NEmEFYPCjKb5nPdOdAL2ZBXAcS/s320/cattina01.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Tina consoling me that my shirt doesn't perma-smell THAT bad</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Okay, wetsuits are perfectly demonstrable evidence to support this contention.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Once the sun has set on your wetsuit's glory days, it enters into an abysmal hell that at the very least, entails other organisms sharing your neoprene. Dry rot was my personal favorite. I have had my fair share of wetsuits where the neoprene had shriveled up and died and was replaced by some kind of mystery material that feels like a combination between a paper bag and the tears of orphaned children.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This usually happened because we didn't take care of our wetsuits "properly", like you would if you were a pro surfer or diver and had access to the right chemicals, the right dry locker environment, and/or didn't wear your wetsuit for 40 hours a week for years at a time. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpcf6AqUuC7LmW8ouagL71YPP7dCQS2nZcyi0XLywydzdLq3-71vi9xruFdegkY1jfSQUEu2n6mGynN5LNN9ke3XGbkipfqVF3sSKf3-nLevIe9cV04-dwoH3-yFN8WXWT7qYVaw8b0hyphenhyphenP/s1600/12339013_1655079991407909_922113667_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpcf6AqUuC7LmW8ouagL71YPP7dCQS2nZcyi0XLywydzdLq3-71vi9xruFdegkY1jfSQUEu2n6mGynN5LNN9ke3XGbkipfqVF3sSKf3-nLevIe9cV04-dwoH3-yFN8WXWT7qYVaw8b0hyphenhyphenP/s320/12339013_1655079991407909_922113667_n.jpeg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Where did I leave my wetsuit yesterday?"</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">"Don't ever rinse your wetsuit in hot water," they said. "It'll stretch the neoprene cells," they said. Okay butthead, you try following that advice when it's 30 degrees out and you are 6 seconds away from end stage hypothermia. When I needed hot water, it was in times when you know, my hair was literally frozen and I couldn't feel my soul. There was never a time I needed hot water the temperature of lava sprayed all over me when I thought, "BUT THE NEOPRENE".</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So yeah, my wetsuits got destroyed over time. Sometimes, they would get holes in the seems (side note: this was a great way to distinguish between uniform wetsuits when our initials faded....like HEY that's mine, it's got the hole in the left armpit).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><u><b><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">5. Every place has orphaned uniforms that usually make us a little sad</span></b></u></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx9FDWwgJlF9ReXsKYldjflZbb70Egzq0mQFg2RcH5yWCL3fHOjYzgtwFcX6Vy94pLoakqo6gCv1mWFq2Grxg3-ScfA9zI3jrHzvTUSA9A-c62SuwDMnqqJGEv0tIrtUEsDcTPtqypeBJq/s1600/crop+jump.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="1600" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx9FDWwgJlF9ReXsKYldjflZbb70Egzq0mQFg2RcH5yWCL3fHOjYzgtwFcX6Vy94pLoakqo6gCv1mWFq2Grxg3-ScfA9zI3jrHzvTUSA9A-c62SuwDMnqqJGEv0tIrtUEsDcTPtqypeBJq/s640/crop+jump.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRNS__sVbgtg92Fs4k3C0YDnvXxYdy_tBEFVEdupjm_Gd6WENlumicELBxxiQefCk8sVp01FDrcMVKOgdyHQ2lekdfHiCBjmUmi9PbhiT1nV9jJOA2uOC2g7bfvxEQU1KCJ8zb0bH10YMl/s1600/crop+jump+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRNS__sVbgtg92Fs4k3C0YDnvXxYdy_tBEFVEdupjm_Gd6WENlumicELBxxiQefCk8sVp01FDrcMVKOgdyHQ2lekdfHiCBjmUmi9PbhiT1nV9jJOA2uOC2g7bfvxEQU1KCJ8zb0bH10YMl/s640/crop+jump+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSjt7vO5BxlXxYk3ycmqAVmEWqdjL4v7M8AiHSV3Enp-nTi75G7HjcXLwknX8jQLLV4jvBu5upFiXMdiBwD698tKnBrFTcYDv8C4q3HTMv7qmqdvWp0PwWMYa7w_VcnEi-AR9dyfWNJjSJ/s1600/crop+jump+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="1600" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSjt7vO5BxlXxYk3ycmqAVmEWqdjL4v7M8AiHSV3Enp-nTi75G7HjcXLwknX8jQLLV4jvBu5upFiXMdiBwD698tKnBrFTcYDv8C4q3HTMv7qmqdvWp0PwWMYa7w_VcnEi-AR9dyfWNJjSJ/s640/crop+jump+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Most of the people in this photo have long since abandoned their wetsuits and moved on. p.s. Miss you guys</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">There is that rack of wetsuits, or cabinet of old uniforms. You know it. It's the one you use for food prep. It's the one you have interns or volunteers scavenge from. It's the graveyard of old employees.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Even if I didn't know the people, I always felt a little sad going through the Quitter Closet/Rack and seeing initials of people who had long since come and gone. I wonder too, who wears my old stuff at the places I've been at. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">BRING THEM ALL BACK</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But all of this just makes me realize how much our uniforms mean to us, not just in the utilitarian sense. They are a historical marker, they are an indicator of seniority in some cases, they conform to you and see you through some of the best and some of the worst times. They are the butt of our jokes (especially if they actually SHOW your butt). And so you know what? They deserve a little recognition. <br /><br />Thanks, work uniforms!</span></span></div>
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Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-43290236619951887892017-05-21T06:08:00.001-05:002017-05-21T06:08:21.135-05:00An Open Letter to Vancouver Park Board Members<div style="font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I know you've gotten a lot of feedback over your recent decision about Vancouver Aquarium. As someone who lives on the opposite end of the continent, who am I to pitch in another voice? Well, I had a very successful career as a marine mammal trainer for the past 12 years, and just recently left to pursue another passion. However, I am still very connected to the marine mammal community. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">There is something really, really special about that place. I've only been once, but it is - in my opinion - one of the best aquariums in all aspects: research, animal wellness, habitat design, conservation messaging, insanely advanced and open-minded veterinary care, rescue/rehabilitation...and it doesn't hurt that it's in one of the most beautiful places on the planet. Please believe me when I tell you that Vancouver Aquarium lives its conservation message.<br /></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I wanted to better understand who all of you are, because there is no way you'd be on a commission without a pretty impressive background.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">You all seem to have huge hearts. John, you seem like a huge supporter of green and sustainable living. Casey, you have dedicated your time to helping people in need, like your time volunteering for the Canadian Diabetes Association and promoting an active lifestyle. Catherine, wow. A lawyer, an entrepreneur, a warrior for equal rights for all human beings. Sarah, your work in creating and maintaining green spaces is as impressive as the hotel company you work for, who has a really impressive track record for being environmentally friendly. Stuart, I love that you not only work with kids with special needs, but that you volunteer your time at (among other places) a hospice. Michael, your restaurant (wish I could try it...maybe if I ever am lucky enough to live in Vancouver!) sets the bar high for all others in the industry, with an unwavering dedication to sustainable food choices and zero waste. And Erin, your work in conservation with your eco-friendly spa and special education combined with your academic background in forest genetics is really impressive.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">With all that you do to improve not just the city of Vancouver for itself and its residents, but giving so much to human beings who are often over-looked or avoided, I am so surprised at your decision regarding the Vancouver Aquarium. You decision has effectively signed a death warrant for any cetaceans that need care. Now they will seek help and receive nothing but an injection of barbiturates, even if they are not critically or terminally ill.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An eight week old Indo-pacific bottlenose dolphin who was separated from her mom in Perth, Australia. She was euthanized after a couple of days because they could not find her mom, and there was nowhere to rehabilitate her long-term. <a href="http://news.xinhuanet.com/english/2017-04/10/c_136196342.htm" target="_blank">Here is the news story</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Imagine a white-sided dolphin, entangled in fishing gear in such a way that she hasn't been able to eat in weeks. She is emaciated, she has infections from the wounds resulting from the fishing lines wrapped around her face, dorsal fin, and in her mouth. She washes ashore, terrified to be away from her family but has no strength to keep up. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Her care requires more than a quick tune-up and shove back out to sea (seriously, if only it were that easy...). Her condition is very poor, but not hopeless. With several weeks or months of rehabilitative care, she can go back out to her family. She can continue to raise calves...not just her own, but she will add to the survival success of other young dolphins as well. A few weeks ago, she would have a chance at living her life before becoming hopelessly entangled in gear left by our own species. The Vancouver Aquarium was the only facility capable of housing rescued cetaceans long-term. It is not some "let's catch just get more dolphins but say we are rescuing them" scheme. The Canadian government decides not only if wild dolphins can go back to the wild, and if so, where they go.<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An Atlantic white-sided dolphin calf being euthanized in Connecticut. <a href="https://patch.com/connecticut/guilford/stranded-dolphin-found-guilford-humanely-euthanized-police-0" target="_blank"> Story here</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">What you guys have done is taken away the only beacon of hope for the amazing variety of cetacea that swim your waters. Is that what you guys want? With your combined interest and activity in eco-friendly ventures, how do you rationalize killing dolphins? Stuart, you wrote, </span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br />"</span>Together, we focussed on one incredible action. We seized the opportunity to
do some positive work for Qila and Aurora also in the name of a long, sorrowful
stream of other Cetaceans who didn't want to die." <br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Do you know what it is like to hold down an animal struggling, terrified, and watch the life drain from his eyes as euthanasia solution is pushed through his veins? It is a horrible experience when a companion animal is "put down"; any animal lover (I am assuming you guys are in this group) knows the dread of making the decision to have a vet end your loved one's life. This is usually decided based on criteria establishing quality of life, which has deteriorated due to terminal illness or injury. It is offering a dignified, peaceful death to an aging or ill non-human family member.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">That is not the case with euthanizing cetaceans on the beach solely because there is no place to rehabilitate them. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9nufd2QaQWwhq-ZnoiJ_1Z4syDBOXmsAW8U9qVeQ1e1bS3CR9p4M0Hlkv06one4-ZFYiPWCz8cxLJ27pZSZDQUz7uluGA3rxMj8zmztsWpBmNwOAk9AdG0xgBR2mw_XNjdyFePzrjBIA/s1600/1297704924046_ORIGINAL.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9nufd2QaQWwhq-ZnoiJ_1Z4syDBOXmsAW8U9qVeQ1e1bS3CR9p4M0Hlkv06one4-ZFYiPWCz8cxLJ27pZSZDQUz7uluGA3rxMj8zmztsWpBmNwOAk9AdG0xgBR2mw_XNjdyFePzrjBIA/s400/1297704924046_ORIGINAL.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you wanted Chester to have a chance at life, but not live at Vancouver Aquarium...where then would you want the DFO to send him? Which facility?</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Please consider traveling with first responder teams to a 6 month old dolphin, who is terrified and whistling for her mother, her eyes wide and frantic. She seems healthy and could be brought to a long-term care such as Vancouver Aquarium, but that option has been removed. There are no long-term care facilities she can go to within a reasonable distance. So, because she cannot immediately be put back to sea, her life must be ended. Please consider having to restrain this baby (the equivalent to a one year old human toddler) as a vet tries to find a blood vessel in order to sedate her and eventually stop her heart. You guys should have the experience at least once of looking at an animal who can be saved with long-term care, or an animal who is healthy but dependent on mom (who has died), and struggle as the animal fights for her life. You are the ones pinning her down. You are the last souls she sees as her life is ended. Ended by the Vancouver Park Board.<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS-O6TUgc7yv31MRKQ1yBiuHZWVs43RIuTSCZeTDUyBEYL5RZ0bJZY-YS1W8hrz1DVRgbMYBiT9h8UaTzaLOFV8NlG-QJDFAx6LA7D5k4DbKDRtq6kzHo5KJUl_dGwOJNtK1MXZGPmQQ1G/s1600/rescue-stories-daisy.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS-O6TUgc7yv31MRKQ1yBiuHZWVs43RIuTSCZeTDUyBEYL5RZ0bJZY-YS1W8hrz1DVRgbMYBiT9h8UaTzaLOFV8NlG-QJDFAx6LA7D5k4DbKDRtq6kzHo5KJUl_dGwOJNtK1MXZGPmQQ1G/s400/rescue-stories-daisy.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or, you can give these animals hope and a chance at living their lives.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">So many of you have advanced degrees. So many of you do so much for other humans and the environment as a whole. But it doesn't seem any of you have experience or knowledge in marine mammal natural history, wild or otherwise. It doesn't appear as though any of you have volunteering in a marine mammal stranding center (you really should do it, it's totally insane and heartbreaking but rewarding....and they need all the help they can get. You would make a really big difference). It appears as though you've chosen to ignore the 13,000 letters sent to you against the ban. Why?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">How can such a group of educated, accomplished, passionate people decide to ignore so many voices with experience and knowledge that they lack? I just don't understand. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Many of you pride yourselves on your leadership skills in your LinkedIn profiles (Casey, Catherine). Your roles as leaders in a park board means you need to consider evidence that is in contrast with your personal opinions. You don't agree with holding cetaceans in captivity. Okay. Now you don't agree with bringing ANY cetaceans to Stanley Park...which means you disagree with rehabilitating cetaceans in British Columbia. Which means you are okay with killing any stranded dolphin, porpoise, or whale. <br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Levi, a harbor porpoise who was rehabbed for several months at Vancouver Aquarium, was successfully released back to his home. Is his life not worth this?</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">John, you were quoted saying you'd prefer that distressed cetaceans were just hauled up on a boat, treated, and set free. Seriously John, if it were that easy, we wouldn't need marine mammal rescue centers. But that is the problem. In both Canada and the U.S., the federal governments have a long list of criteria that need to be met in order to deem an animal releasable. There are a number of illnesses, injuries, and conditions (e.g. Dependent calves) that cannot be treated on a boat, or in a small hospital pool. The DFO requires that to rehabilitate a cetacean, they need to have habitats that currently, only Vancouver Aquarium has. It seems surprising to me that someone with your background would make such a naive comment in light of the scientific evidence you have been given by true marine mammal advocates. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">John, I swear I am not picking on you, but what about your heavy involvement with the Bloedel Conservatory? That place looks INCREDIBLE. And it has lots of free-flighted parrots. Parrot species which are extremely endangered in their native lands. Is it okay to keep these extremely intelligent animals - ones who are consistently and illegally exploited for the pet trade - in captivity? Is it because each animal at the conservatory was born in a zoological-type facility? Are any of those birds caught from the wild? Are parrots a large draw to the conservatory? Do they contribute meaningfully to the revenue brought in?<br /></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br />Stuart, I know that you are firmly planted in the "anti" captivity camp. I read several of your most recent blogs, including one in which you posted a letter from Steve Huxter. You're clearly very concerned about the well-being of cetaceans. You're disgusted by the drive hunts and thoughtless collection (capture) of whales and dolphins from the wild, as am I. As are most of us who work or have worked with captive marine mammals. We have some common ground.<br /><br />But let me tell you something I have learned in my 12 year career: the general public does not care about animals. Not like you, not like me. They literally need it slapped in their apathetic (or, occasionally, well-meaning) faces. Is that my argument for you to suddenly switch positions on this topic of the educational value of cetaceans in human care? No, I'm not trying to insult your intelligence or your passion. But hear me out:<br /><br />When I worked at Clearwater Marine Aquarium -a rescue and rehabilitation facility in Florida - I worked with this amazing dolphin named Panama (<a href="http://themiddleflipper.blogspot.com/2013/09/panamas-eternal-psa.html" target="_blank">here is a blog all about her, if you're interested</a>). Long story short, she was an older dolphin found near death as a direct result of humans feeding her from their boats and piers. She received completely inappropriate food and very poor quality fish and fell very, very ill. The older calf she had did not hunt; he/she had learned to beg for food and that was it. <br /><br />Panama was rescued, rehabilitated, and deemed unreleasable by the U.S. government. She was placed at Clearwater Marine Aquarium. At some point during her illness or stranding, she completely lost her hearing. <br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Panama in 2010</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br /><br />Let me tell you something, Stuart. After I gave my public presentation on the dolphins, it wasn't unheard of for people to come up to me and actually APOLOGIZE for the times they fed wild dolphins. It was like this bizarre confessional situation, where I was basically answering the standard "how long do they live" and "how smart are they" questions and boom, someone would approach me with a terrified and/or sheepish look on their face and say, "....I fed dolphins from my boat. I had no idea it could do something like this."<br /><br />Your concern regarding the "cycle" of lonely cetaceans at Vancouver Aquarium shows that you're concerned about their mental well-being from a social standpoint. Trust me when I say that any caretaker worthy of their position and responsibility shares your concern. I'm offering a different perspective on what Chester and Daisy, and others like them provide. They give a rare and powerful wake-up call to people who would otherwise literally not think twice about doing something really harmful to a dolphin or porpoise...or generally, the ocean itself.<br /><br />I lived in the mecca of illegal wild dolphin interaction when I worked in the Florida panhandle. I saw dolphins begging for fish from boats, and even worse, I saw essentially flotillas of jetskiers chase down dolphins on shallow sandbars....including a mother with a very young calf. The jetskiers were totally happy just to be near dolphins, but had no idea what damage they were causing (or could've caused). When I approached them, they blew me off, saying if the dolphins wanted to swim away, they could. I reported them to NOAA, and nothing ever happened. The same thing kept happening with different groups of people. I wonder, if they'd seen a calf who was orphaned because his mother was killed by a boat strike, if they would reconsider their actions in a similar situation.<br /></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the shots I took (from an idled boat) to try to report these people. The mom and calf are just under the surface</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The calf....very, very young. Probably around a month or two. Too young to be able to out-maneuver watercraft, which means mom won't leave his side. They both had to avoid as best as possible these obnoxious people. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br /><br />So many of the reasons why marine mammals strand nowadays is because of human-related activity. Don't you think it's worth exploring an alternative concept of a "conservation-themed" exhibit? Where people can see animals like Chester and Daisy, understand their unique situations, see how well cared for they are, and understand how animals like them wind up in situations where the Canadian government decides they cannot be released back to the sea? <br /><br />Too all of you, please reconsider your decision. Please talk to the DFO (why haven't you already done this? This is so disappointing and scary). Please consider being involved in actual marine mammal rescue before you make a decision like this. Remain consistent with the ways you guys have ALL chosen to live your lives: to make the city of Vancouver a better place for all of its residents...especially the ones who need help the most. Why limit your compassion to humans?<br /><br />Sincerely,<br />Cat Rust<br /><br />_________________<br /><br />A huge thanks to Malgosia Kaczmarska for helping me sort through fact and fiction in this messy situation. A resonating shout-out to <a href="http://vanaquafriends.org/" target="_blank">Friends of the Vancouver Aquarium</a> for their INCREDIBLY rallying cry and fierce dedication (who else would stand in the pouring rain for four hours just trying to be heard in order to spare the lives of animals we care so much about)? Vancouver Aquarium yet again sets the bar. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-25205424373122157592017-05-14T06:01:00.001-05:002017-05-14T06:01:41.812-05:00The OLD Dolphins<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">There are definitely many reasons why I consider myself lucky. One of those reasons is that I've had the pleasure of knowing more than my fair share of Old Lady Dolphins. Considering today is Mother's Day in the U.S., I think today's topic is pretty fitting. In fact, I'd like to go even further and talk about a very special lady I got to know at my last job. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy mother's day!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">There are probably many of you dolphin trainers (extant and extinct) who will know exactly who I'm talking about....and you probably have a lot of stories of your own to share. So PLEASE do. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">#goals</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">First, let's just talk about Old Lady Dolphins (herein referred to as OLDs*). I have written about a few of these gals before (Nellie, Pebbles, Panama, Delilah) but I feel like it's worth revisiting the classification of this very special personality type.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Second, some of you work with social animals who are matriarchal in nature (I'm really looking at you, elephant keepers). What I write today may ring true for some of the golden girls in your life, so correct me if I make this too specific to dolphins, but....</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">....dolphins are "special". Like, they are the High Maintenance Animal of the universe. I haven't talked to any extinct species, but I would be utterly shocked if we found out that deinonychus or wooly mammoths were as ridiculously dramatic as dolphins. I mean, dolphins as a family are pretty successful evolutionarily speaking. So the whole diva thing must really be working for them. <br /><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THAT'S what she was trying to tell me?!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">This is not just a personality trait, people. While I will admit there are laid back dolphins, most of them are basically insane. Bottlenose dolphins are top predators. They are so good at what they do in the wild that they have tons of free time on their hands to terrify sharks who are just trying to do shark things, like breathe, eat, and avoid human beings. Dolphins also have a lot of sex, like to the point where I feel like it must offend other ocean creatures who struggle every day just to put food in their bellies and/or not die. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">We all know that the ocean is not a quiet place, and not just because Chatty Cathy dolphins live in it. We know that the other vertebrates and invertebrates who populate the seas make noise a lot. Why? Oh, I'll tell you why, and I don't need a PhD in marine blah blah blah to know that 96% of oceanic animal sounds are essentially just a bunch of critters pointing out how annoying dolphins are.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><b>Parrot fish:</b> Oh great, there go the dolphins again</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><b>Sailfish:</b> If I see one more dolphin penis I'm gonna gag</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><b>Menhaden:</b> How DO they find the time?<br /><br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All day all night</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But life is balance, right? You may have dolphins acting like the confident, world rulers that they are....but they also poop their figurative pants because a bubble appeared 78 feet away from their left eye (little known fact: this is unacceptable to many dolphins). Oh yes, there is another side to this coin. If there wasn't, how could dolphins survive more than a few months without having major stress-related strokes and/or psychotic breaks?</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">OLDs. <br /><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"HEY. HEY YOU"</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">OLDs are around to calm the waters, literally and figuratively. They are the emotional bomb squad of the dolphin world. If things have gotten entirely out of hand (you know, Flippy can't possibly sit next to Dolly, because she once moved her head too suddenly and plus she totally stole Flippy's football four years ago), you can almost always count on an OLD to settle the score. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><b>Flippy:</b> Oh my god seriously, if I have to station next to Dolly I am seriously going to flip out<br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><b>Dolly:</b> OMG OMG OMG OMG OKAY I WILL NEVER STATION NEAR YOU OR AROUND YOU OR IN THE SAME POOL IN FACT I WILL JUST NEVER STATION AGAIN I WILL JUST SIT IN THE CORNER AND BARF<br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><b>Flippy:</b> GOOD! But I'm still going to chase you just because I CAN<br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><b>OLD: </b> Listen. Both of you better grow the eff up, because I will use all 600 pounds of my beautiful self to set you straight</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Oh, did I mention that most OLDs are huge? Like, huge. Maybe 100 pounds heavier than the other animals. Nellie had rock hard abs, not even kidding. <br /><br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How DOES she find the time?</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">They command respect, but not usually through aggression (although it may come to that in extreme cases). OLDs use leadership skills that many animal trainers could stand to follow once they get a senior or supervisor title next to their names (sorry not sorry, it's true). Most of the time, they are the dolphin everyone wants to be with. They are the dolphin that swims past and everyone just stares in admiration. And when someone steps out of line, they do the least amount of nastiness possible, returning quickly to their calm, wonderful selves.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Got the picture? Good. Now let's talk about Nani.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squeeeeeee</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Nani was the oldest dolphin at National Aquarium, who unfortunately passed away a couple of months ago. I was privileged to get to know her, and work with her. Um. Work FOR her. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Nani was the queen of the clan. She had a way about her that made all mammals near her - humans and dolphins alike- instantly fall in love. Maybe it was her gorgeous, dark skin. Maybe it was her little teddy bear eyes. Or maybe it was because she was smarter than everyone she knew.<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEn1K5Eju3OrvU-jMOBOwkZJHuMIknt7TXRaH4fE1hqjfeYxEyhChw3iTV4L-QZ4APqYqcD1oUpCRDOLs1Oq96_qOPlTTdFOkJBvD6N3c84H98XAezE59JDazdL2MPot0i8mZ3UUbZ4maZ/s1600/nani02.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEn1K5Eju3OrvU-jMOBOwkZJHuMIknt7TXRaH4fE1hqjfeYxEyhChw3iTV4L-QZ4APqYqcD1oUpCRDOLs1Oq96_qOPlTTdFOkJBvD6N3c84H98XAezE59JDazdL2MPot0i8mZ3UUbZ4maZ/s320/nani02.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Did you get my snacks yet?"</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">While I only worked with her for eight short months, I racked up a good amount of Nani stories in which I was further made aware of my puny standing as a naked ape. For example, like many OLDs, she had figured out that hanging on to her toys at the end of the day meant she would get an extra snack. However, she was one of the only OLDs I knew who would approach you, let go of her toy and place it JUST out of reach, and try to house the extra fish you were feeding the other dolphins for stationing. And you know what?</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Not a single dolphin dared taking that toy. Every other place I have worked, if anyone (OLD or otherwise) let go of a contraband toy, someone else snatched it up. But not with Nani. Those rare times another dolphin attempted to steal the leverage, Nani pulled her Boss Lady card and the mistake was not repeated. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, Miss Nani. </td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">She also completely controlled husbandry training of her kids. Her adult kids. Now, that might not surprise some of you when you think about how female bottlenose dolphins stay with their moms their entire lives in most cases. So yeah, when her daughter Spirit was in a blood layout, Nani would sometimes come over and yell at both human and dolphin, causing Spirit to kick out of the layout. Pretty sure Nani knew this maneuver would result in lots of splashing that filled up our boots with water so we had gross, soggy whitefeet for the entire day. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz-BcAFYYvPmaNxa8EreT3USeELNDjbQMJUJpr66AzIeN_bMx9V2nxBqIDK_c14DrE2fhXW5lZsD5xY3bsvd0HDlM9f4x7RBbCVlhpfaSRCOhw7Y2Tcvh5Af0TYbbSvm9927ZimljFBnJL/s1600/6d98665b8b5e9445812b1da710dcf0a0--hammer-toe-big-toe.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz-BcAFYYvPmaNxa8EreT3USeELNDjbQMJUJpr66AzIeN_bMx9V2nxBqIDK_c14DrE2fhXW5lZsD5xY3bsvd0HDlM9f4x7RBbCVlhpfaSRCOhw7Y2Tcvh5Af0TYbbSvm9927ZimljFBnJL/s320/6d98665b8b5e9445812b1da710dcf0a0--hammer-toe-big-toe.jpeg" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Actual dolphin trainer foot</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">But she also did this with her adult son. As is typical, Nani did not live with her adult son Beau. And still, when he was in a blood layout, she would interfere in some way from entirely different habitats. And he, the obedient momma's boy, would immediately stop what he was doing, as if he was just caught doing something wrong.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><b>Nani:</b> BEAU! BEAU BEAU. ARE YOU IN A BLOOD LAYOUT IN THERE?</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><b>Beau:</b> NO! No ma! I don't know what you're talking about, I would never do that! No!<br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisf_-zXUXjF5qGcv093FwlhtUccQiYqADwVXa-WGvVjSGnWY5rqqMIq8_J3zLrp8Qam2223ssvDzEVy8ZnT3e2nh99PzEWi3KyDCHTqxy3ECX8s39Md-ddgCY0qN7GLD2buTxj_i6oPYUo/s1600/bossy_moms_1360131914_1360131920_540x540.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisf_-zXUXjF5qGcv093FwlhtUccQiYqADwVXa-WGvVjSGnWY5rqqMIq8_J3zLrp8Qam2223ssvDzEVy8ZnT3e2nh99PzEWi3KyDCHTqxy3ECX8s39Md-ddgCY0qN7GLD2buTxj_i6oPYUo/s320/bossy_moms_1360131914_1360131920_540x540.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. You don't let those two-legged freaks touch your precious flukes."</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">There were many attempts to smooth this issue with training, with some success. According to trainers who had been there a while, Nani had gotten much better and most times, you could work your husbandry approximations without interference. Correction: whatever we did made Nani comfortable ALLOWING us to continue. But every once in a while, she had to remind all of us who was really in charge.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Like all OLDs I knew, she was extremely maternal. Not just towards dolphins, either. She stared at human babies like they belonged to her. Maybe that creeps some of you put, but I thought it was pretty adorable. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfJzKshhxgxf-Dy6BDhsH0mHdvgiDt71HBiSqvD51lU_e6Fhzk-sW2D2d172JTBrm9O2kZYXv6XRMfM32_6RZiHwDzrumGN46o8bA7a-gRUjCaN4zcQDTUlojW75Pml2Ck_BokVX6hYXkD/s1600/13902770_10102143990078601_2785697135649341698_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfJzKshhxgxf-Dy6BDhsH0mHdvgiDt71HBiSqvD51lU_e6Fhzk-sW2D2d172JTBrm9O2kZYXv6XRMfM32_6RZiHwDzrumGN46o8bA7a-gRUjCaN4zcQDTUlojW75Pml2Ck_BokVX6hYXkD/s400/13902770_10102143990078601_2785697135649341698_n.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nani (left) and her daughter Spirit staring at me and my daughter!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"><br /><br />Nani filled a lot of hearts over a long period of time. She was an extremely bright, confident animal who knew how to keep a family together. Her loss was and still is profoundly felt. She is definitely one of the most memorable OLDs I have ever met. And if you never had the honor of knowing her, I hope you feel like you knew her after reading this. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Thank you, sweet Nani. <br /></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2UQ2FaPOuErM7zAILKoD6pbaLnvWZe8yZJIPKHKY8pfACCjOGG0nDH5DS7kACaqFsgofWwKFybbFZnqRSAio3nry6bxbYn9ZV9Vy2cxlG8h2d53_pX38dW8PTznlb5a239wE_xcvoQK8/s1600/nani03.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2UQ2FaPOuErM7zAILKoD6pbaLnvWZe8yZJIPKHKY8pfACCjOGG0nDH5DS7kACaqFsgofWwKFybbFZnqRSAio3nry6bxbYn9ZV9Vy2cxlG8h2d53_pX38dW8PTznlb5a239wE_xcvoQK8/s320/nani03.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">:)</td></tr>
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Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-9696532387175802262017-05-07T07:01:00.000-05:002017-05-07T07:01:48.314-05:00Another Embarrassing Work Story <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Okay, last week got heavy. But thanks to all of you who responded! I got a lot of great, supportive feedback :)<br /><br />This week though, I think I owe you guys not JUST a light-hearted entry, but one where I make myself look like a complete and utter moron.<br /><br /> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQgrBsNRZwrjvHEBgDq553OZqyPLD096yP9qmXk-Szks9odvRYFLcxCSZmliTKR72mLn0VmtPIxAj6OJ25bJO86_nHLNA4cVwQToufQb3gZu41DGclbshrDM5QYQCfBj91UPFCFUwz4ta/s1600/img_2983.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQgrBsNRZwrjvHEBgDq553OZqyPLD096yP9qmXk-Szks9odvRYFLcxCSZmliTKR72mLn0VmtPIxAj6OJ25bJO86_nHLNA4cVwQToufQb3gZu41DGclbshrDM5QYQCfBj91UPFCFUwz4ta/s320/img_2983.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cat "The Moron" Rust has a nice ring to it. </td></tr>
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<br /><br />Now before I get into the gory details, this is a disclaimer that um, I'm kind of immature in a joking way with people who share the same type of humor. Most of you who know me personally are probably saying some version of the phrase, "....and what else is new?", but some of you who either a) don't know me or b) think highly of me (I realize this is likely a scant few) may be shocked or possibly even offended by this story. That's your warning, and I hope you still want to be my friend.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-jgiqK_Z7CCWBJOoFrtOgDPkUeTHpfo-Prvine9RbkNSKw_vTiR28Eh0Xwi2mOpW3UvbqfOqGcbiEkfIeb_4Z0Vppm9aKEhR9G-Ptc8PwdX1m2glEDMr_AHv8yan6nEgNcOVwJN0gkdg/s1600/e1b75c4ed6b41d999f26639f29f8bd9bc132f68db1d0010fd4e9bc505ec8544d.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-jgiqK_Z7CCWBJOoFrtOgDPkUeTHpfo-Prvine9RbkNSKw_vTiR28Eh0Xwi2mOpW3UvbqfOqGcbiEkfIeb_4Z0Vppm9aKEhR9G-Ptc8PwdX1m2glEDMr_AHv8yan6nEgNcOVwJN0gkdg/s320/e1b75c4ed6b41d999f26639f29f8bd9bc132f68db1d0010fd4e9bc505ec8544d.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Think this is tasteless? Read on. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /><br />Ahhhh. Here goes.<br /><br />So I put in my notice at National Aquarium towards the end of September. It was sad, because I really enjoyed working there and it also signaled the end of my marine mammal career. Lots to process, to say the least. But everyone was super supportive of my new path.<br /><br />My final weeks were filled with tying up loose ends, playing with lots of dolphins, and causing trouble with my coworkers. One of these coworkers is a fantastically sarcastic, hilarious person (who is herein referred to as Snarky McSnarkerson). Let me just give you a quick breakdown of this wonderful human being and the relationship I have with her.<br /><br />On my first day on the job as lead trainer, I was sitting in the marine mammal office in the usual This Is My First Day On The Job Oh My God I Have Forgotten Everyone's Name Already And Also Where Are The Bathrooms whirlwind, when this tornado of a human being blasts through the door and says:<br /><br />"THIS MOTHERF***** JUST THREW CHICKEN INTO THE HABITAT."<br /><br />A small voice from an unseen place replies, "Um, Snarky McSnarkerson? This is Cat, our new lead."</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQeBFVMM_bPrw4LzQixOh_N38zglmEY9EW8Wtzfkj8WOi8RCVvZCO183uVvKE5bNi1tw2ss05gRGd8InmgVrGTDMpjx4doyLKUjb-jU2xqDyEI5nxSliyiPzzP04F83AvNINRyLHt5yidl/s1600/6359092083196679651524185518_anigif_enhanced-3311-1401324085-14.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQeBFVMM_bPrw4LzQixOh_N38zglmEY9EW8Wtzfkj8WOi8RCVvZCO183uVvKE5bNi1tw2ss05gRGd8InmgVrGTDMpjx4doyLKUjb-jU2xqDyEI5nxSliyiPzzP04F83AvNINRyLHt5yidl/s320/6359092083196679651524185518_anigif_enhanced-3311-1401324085-14.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oopsy poopsy</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /><br />Ms. McSnarkerson looks at me, color drained from her face and says something like, "Oh. Oh my god. I'm so sorry. BUT THIS KID JUST THREW CHICKEN INTO THE POOL."<br /><br />I was already LOLing at this point, reassuring Snarky that it was seriously fine (no guests could hear her) as we all assembled to gate the dolphins out of the main habitat to retrieve the chicken. And so, the stage was set for my rapport with this sassy trainer.<br /><br />Aside from sarcasm and talking in a variety of obnoxious accents, we shared another slightly more edgy activity that involved using the iPhone's message drawing feature to send uh, cartoonish representations of male genitalia to each other. Sometimes they wore hats. They almost always had faces, although once we made one into a palm tree. I'm pretty sure she made one into a Christmas tree at some point. But I digress.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhb3eGJ8mvX3vjI7tXfCsgt34frpPGaZ_7ihF-pqqb33wWaV9GwcSjLOkUgUyNnak9zl7l3W0qXDDm_J7-NUnGqbE8iPo3dA7fc-sTm_-DdODM_OBea3pUcdWpG7UcUsZn45k1VQOFjDPI/s1600/f31208b5ccd881fa7255b8fef5003bd9_oh-so-you-think-im-immature-meme-immature_450-311.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhb3eGJ8mvX3vjI7tXfCsgt34frpPGaZ_7ihF-pqqb33wWaV9GwcSjLOkUgUyNnak9zl7l3W0qXDDm_J7-NUnGqbE8iPo3dA7fc-sTm_-DdODM_OBea3pUcdWpG7UcUsZn45k1VQOFjDPI/s320/f31208b5ccd881fa7255b8fef5003bd9_oh-so-you-think-im-immature-meme-immature_450-311.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YEAH</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />These phallic images were sent liberally to one another, almost to the point where it was expected that we would exchange at least one image on a weekly basis. And so, this trend continued for the duration of my employment.<br /><br />Precisely eight days before my last day, I was in the office taking care of some random stuff. Snarky was on her lunch break, probably eating some version of pizza and/or pretzels (she is also like 9 pounds, which just isn't fair), watching The Bachelor on her phone. You know, like you do. I decided that this was a perfect opportunity to send her a well drawn cartoon of a giant, fluorescent wiener. Like, huge. With a really cute little smiley face. I scribbled away, admired my work, and sent it into cyberspace where it was delivered to Snarky's phone.<br /><br />I waited. The reception in the office was wonky at times, so I didn't expect an immediate response. But then seconds turned into a minute. Then two. Then three. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqqsql0tSKWT8S5ucYkNV4_knZ8opKR1dMifAryVIoqPQDjFSlC7-LFa2dGisS8hUbZe-GyV4DrTdr-2kAt_QhKrGP_FadhRusQqpWzHYmp3ksi5HZM7_GL7gRE9XUC6GtoYBabARRJRUD/s1600/zavRe_s-200x150.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqqsql0tSKWT8S5ucYkNV4_knZ8opKR1dMifAryVIoqPQDjFSlC7-LFa2dGisS8hUbZe-GyV4DrTdr-2kAt_QhKrGP_FadhRusQqpWzHYmp3ksi5HZM7_GL7gRE9XUC6GtoYBabARRJRUD/s1600/zavRe_s-200x150.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting waiting waiting</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /><br />Confused, I asked Ms. McSnarkerson if she'd gotten my text. She looked up from her phone and said, "I don't think so." She scrolled through her messages. "No." <br /><br />"What?" I said. I looked down at my phone. The message had sent. And then.... "OH. OH GOD"<br /><br />At this point, a few of the other trainers (equally awesome as Snarky, might I add) started paying attention to my blossoming panic attack. Because I hadn't sent the giant dick pic to Snarky.<br /><br />I had sent it to my boss.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicSFzY1-alLZIf1gxA_hKFPduQnesETJ4akwu77oDk8y4z9DFxOM9Zs2SlDXxGbrJhUtlAlfxB7wV5gqArYoRLsEt2QkWOxe9P1aQJFhDQlwkCzUuNYiEZkqWZPFlxalxwT77NXPq7bAAr/s1600/noooo.gif%257Ec200.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicSFzY1-alLZIf1gxA_hKFPduQnesETJ4akwu77oDk8y4z9DFxOM9Zs2SlDXxGbrJhUtlAlfxB7wV5gqArYoRLsEt2QkWOxe9P1aQJFhDQlwkCzUuNYiEZkqWZPFlxalxwT77NXPq7bAAr/s1600/noooo.gif%257Ec200.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Actual footage from the event</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /><br />There it was, in all its colorful, smiling glory. A cartoon penis, just sitting in my boss's text message window, without any explanation whatsoever. Just a friendly cartoon phallys from your quitter-employee, Cat. <br /><br />I looked at my phone for what seemed like hours. I think I might have yelled incoherently until I was better able to express what was happening in actual language. My panic is reaching critical mass as I spew out every possibility that results in my boss NOT seeing the message:<br /><br />"DO YOU THINK SHE SEES IT BECAUSE IT DOESN'T SAY SHE READ IT YET"<br /><br />"DO YOU THINK MAYBE SHE EVEN HAS THIS FEATURE ON HER IPHONE BECAUSE MAYBE SHE CAN'T SEE IT BECAUSE MAYBE SHE DOESN'T HAVE THIS FEATURE ON HER PHONE"<br /><br />"DO YOU THINK MAYBE THIS IS JUST A NIGHTMARE AND ALL OF YOU IN THIS OFFICE ARE JUST FIGMENTS OF MY IMAGINATION"<br /><br />And then a little line of text popped up under the grinning appendage. "[Your boss] kept Digital Touch Message from you."<br /><br />I actually fell to the floor and curled up in the fetal position as my coworkers laughed at my insanely mortifying mistake. I was doing something that hovered between sobbing, laughing, and pooping. I waited. And then I sent my boss a text to try to begin damage control.<br /><br />And here is how the conversation went:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNbn3ifZeEthMQbXc6OsJBQL0WcubMXAQ0s_AmbgfQwEx8nek3H4cQmIwCMi3nJP_WovpxTERTvLL9N_FMx0IgJcJNcAsf5z2ay0wFOvqslRMp5yjt87CjIRd4sJWcNc9x-7a7ORAtjHg-/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNbn3ifZeEthMQbXc6OsJBQL0WcubMXAQ0s_AmbgfQwEx8nek3H4cQmIwCMi3nJP_WovpxTERTvLL9N_FMx0IgJcJNcAsf5z2ay0wFOvqslRMp5yjt87CjIRd4sJWcNc9x-7a7ORAtjHg-/s640/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="356" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /><br /><br />Luckily, she was super awesome about it. And later I found out she thought the photo was some kind of message regarding the penis present behavior I was working on with another amazing trainer. It just goes to show that in zookeeping, no body part is considered lewd (and you know what? It should be like that...right?). <br /><br />Sigh. Please tell me some of you have similar stories.....<br /><br /></span>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-41730047989116110872017-04-30T08:38:00.000-05:002017-04-30T08:38:00.073-05:00Hi! I'm Back!<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hiiiiiiii</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Oh god, it's been so long. So first: I AM SO SORRY.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm on my knees! Or sitting in a swivel chair. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Second, there's a reason I took a hiatus....and then continued to write and rewrite the next blog....and then procrastinated.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So first let me thank two dear friends who have been actively involved in marine mammal training for helping me get this latest blog out to the universe. It was seriously like a gigantic poop that needed to come out, but just wouldn't no matter how many trips to the ol' W.C. it took. (Look, you are all zookeepers so I feel like you can handle this analogy.)</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvAtqtAUoGSLfUGsWaGA8cGDmnQKCNb54JREXC4FKMFnm5fsLSYvYLkPIVJ6lAXLuJZK9mHIgo53BRqON6GpnBgM2T_l30MHeuMQE3K91nbJW_IWmCCIy7sNf4xh_Bnju2PvQxEnSxFYv/s1600/maxresdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvAtqtAUoGSLfUGsWaGA8cGDmnQKCNb54JREXC4FKMFnm5fsLSYvYLkPIVJ6lAXLuJZK9mHIgo53BRqON6GpnBgM2T_l30MHeuMQE3K91nbJW_IWmCCIy7sNf4xh_Bnju2PvQxEnSxFYv/s320/maxresdefault.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">God that feels good</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For those of you who don't know, I left the field to pursue the equally amazing field of forensic science. Yes, I voluntarily put myself in FAFSA debt so I could hopefully one day be gainfully employed dealing with delicious science. Mostly, I just wanted a lab coat and to use pipettes every day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Anyways, I've been working hard at getting my M.S. in forensic science. I LOVE it but it has completely taken over my life. And I've been doing a lot of thinking about the marine mammal community....what it was like to leave it, what it's like to be on the outside, and what overlap there'll be in my new chosen field with the old one. There are a few things I want to talk about.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pipe really drives it home</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">First, some of the reason why it took me so long to publish this blog is because - honestly- I was pretty angry. Was it at animal rights activists? Or did I turn anti-captivity?</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker. ...but candy. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">No and no. While there have been a few incidents that have really upset me that have had to do with animal rights extremists (Vancouver Aquarium, anyone?), the thing that really hurt me was the belief some of you had that I "went to the other side." That sentiment started happening around the time I started at National Aquarium, and it seems like it kind of spiraled into a sad little story.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It doesn't have to be this way</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So let's just make sure you all know,<b><i><u> I am NOT anti-zoo</u></i></b>. You know what I am? I am pro-animal, like all of you. I believe in the incredible work that many zoos and aquariums do. Those are the places that put their animals first, and the ones who are willing to take feedback (no matter how critical) and use it to make themselves better. That was something I thought I'd find at National Aquarium; they want to do something different for their animals. And you know what? Their dolphins are AMAZING. Their vet and training staff are some of the most dedicated I've ever seen, both towards the animals and towards the staff. I thought it was a really cool idea to think about building a state of the art facility for the animals. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Here's something really interesting I've come across since starting my new journey: the forensic science field -especially fingerprint and firearms comparison- has been pretty heavily scrutinized by not just the media, but institutions like the National Institute for Justice. I mean, reading this stuff made me think, "Oh my god, the marine mammal community knows what this feels like." It's the same song you guys know: a combination of smart people and people with strong opinions but with basically no real world experience make some pretty sweeping, damning statements about things they really don't seem to understand.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because I has strongish feelings</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But what's interested me the most in this parallel situation is not so much how the criticism (or its delivery...including documentaries, websites, official reports, etc.) is similar. It's how drastically different the forensic science community handled (handles?) it as compared to the marine mammal community.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I love you guys, seriously. But what we collectively are not doing very well is responding scientifically to our critics. Yes, I know a handful of you have, which is awesome. </span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">But collectively, we still basically dig our heels in the sand and declare that we are the "experts"....without actually acting like experts in our response to our critics.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you're super mad at that last paragraph, you're proving my point. We have a really distracting emotional response to Blackfish, Ric O'Barry, or the disgruntled guest who thinks our dolphins should have bigger habitats. We respond with buzz words, but not with empirical evidence. Let's look at an example I encountered quite a bit at one of my former facilities.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When we were discussing building a larger habitat for the dolphins, who live in a 60 year old exhibit, these are actual replies we got from those who had the power to change the situation:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"There's no evidence supporting the notion that larger habitats are better for dolphins."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Saying you want a bigger dolphin habitat is what an animal rights activist would say."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Saying we need a better habitat means the one we have is not adequate, and it's plenty adequate. It far exceeds the USDA requirements."</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look what we did to this poor pup</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sigh. Okay. Do you see the problem yet? I know some of you do, because I've talked to you on the phone, via email, or in person about this issue. And it seems to be pretty standard at most (not all!!) places. And the problem seems to be a combination of the following:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">1) Lots of newer generation trainers do not tend to agree with management in terms of ethics of habitats, treatment, and focus of their animal programs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2) Saying there is no evidence supporting that larger habitats are better is....a circular argument. There is no evidence because there is very little true research on this topic. Guys, that doesn't count. YES of course there are quantifiable facts we can share with the world; bottlenose dolphins tend to live well past their average life span in human care. They reproduce very well. That is a testament to great care, but it is not the same as saying we have "research" to prove our habitats are the best they can be. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To be fair, we have cranked out a LOT of fantastic veterinary/physiological research. We even have a good chunk of cognitive research out there, which is fantastic. But we need more behavioral and "welfare" research. We need to define how we scientifically define wellness, and then measure that within our various populations. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marry me.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You know what forensic science did when they got nailed on not having enough true research? When a Obama's <i>presidential</i> committee said, "Uh, your science like, isn't valid and you don't have any research to prove it"? They did research. They said, "We really disagree with this statement, raaaahhh we are so mad!! WE ARE SO MAD WE ARE TOTALLY GONNA DO RESEARCH TO SHOW YOU!" and they did. There was an EXPLOSION of research and publications. And many of these institutions did not have a lot of funding. They had to apply for grants, or do some magical things with their budgets. They knew they had to make it happen not just for their critics, but for their field of discipline as well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Let me tack on here that one common argument against conducting research in marine mammal facilities I've encountered a lot is that we don't have time in between shows and interactions. I understand we have to make money to spend it on the animals. But that cannot be the end of the conversation. If we want to make our animal care the best it can be, and we call ourselves experts in a scientific field, we HAVE to make time for research. That means we have to get creative with our daily programming. Other places have done this successfully, and there are a lot of really smart, creative people in this field. If you are not interested in finding time to do research, then let people on your team who are motivated to do so find a way. It is absolutely possible in most cases. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everything I've ever learned, I've learned from Will Ferrel movies</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">3) Wanting something NEW and "better" does not automatically mean you suck right now. Change is a good thing. Change is not giving in to animal rights activists. It's being the zoological scientists we are and saying, "Hmm, this aspect of our care is going well. But this one isn't. Or it could be better." </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Be like Rafiki. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Lastly, I think it's important to be careful how we handle trainers and zookeepers who have these different ideas. It's not as simple as "if you're not with us, you're against us." SO many of you guys have told me that's how you feel it is. Many of you have left jobs hoping to find a place that shares your morals when it comes to marine mammal care. Many of you say you're sticking around where you work so you can work your way up the ladder to get into a position to change things. Many of you bite your tongue because you don't want to be labeled as an animal rights activist. I totally get that, because I've been in that position too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For example, one of the biggest criticisms I heard about National Aquarium's decision? That the dolphins would be put in sea-pens. Sea pens. Like, the kind they have at Dolphin Quest. DRC. The Navy. Okay, are we sure that we don't like sea pens?</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cool!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Wait, maybe we don't like animals going from a manmade environment to natural sea water. How we will acclimatize the animals? Um, why don't we ask those questions when we transport dolphins from similar conditions? From natural and/or outdoor habitats to indoor, manmade ones and vice versa? Guys, we do this ALL the time. I've literally dumped a dolphin who made a transcontinental transport into a pool with two other male dolphins with zero acclimation. He was fine. The others were fine. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What I'm saying is, we can't just freak out because a facility decides to try something different. Our arguments become really emotional, and really hypocritical. UNLESS. Unless we say, "Hey, you know what, maybe if we're uncomfortable with transport protocol, we should collectively study this. And you know what? Let's pair up with that place we're not totally in agreement with to work together to gather some information, swap some ideas." </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But not on Saturdays.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But we keep getting hung up on "letting the activists win" or "we have to stick together" and shut down new ideas. Guys. Stop. The marine mammal community has got bigger goals to achieve. We've got to look at our facilities and say, "Let's do some research" and "What's working really well here...and what's really NOT." We have got to stop criticizing other facilities for stupid things like....maintaining natural social groups, phasing out shows, whatever. Those facilities are not dolphin huggers or weaklings who caved to Blackfish. Those facilities are managing their animals a) the way most zoos manage their animals....in natural situations and b) those facilities are cranking out some amazing research. Let's not make fun of them. What are they doing that is working? It may not be exactly what you want to do, and that is okay. What's even more okay is sharing info with each other without passing harsh, sophomoric judgment. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Come on! Let's have some fun! Let's dream!!! What is YOUR dream facility? What kinds of things would you do there? Start really asking yourself those questions, no matter what level you are. And if you're in a managerial level, be open to new ideas. Those are what make us BETTER. They are not dangerous. And let's do some RESEARCH guys!!! Get those training brains to work: if you love research, design some ideas. If you hate the idea of research but love training, you've got endless opportunities to train some amazing behaviors. Oh my god, there are so many incredible things you can do. I know a lot of you....so I can only imagine what you guys can do with a little support from your institution.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGDBHwZQcmusrsIEBiIDLYo4-kn02U4Zlx-1CdiaHwi1D-Em8m19J8wxyltTyfrPJyLzIS5Xrtz9AqaD9r_tL3WVI6-kPjryDKrgrzdkvgX9_3_m3pRb4voIfitnsJMpfd-mtV4S41pM-N/s1600/giphy-1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGDBHwZQcmusrsIEBiIDLYo4-kn02U4Zlx-1CdiaHwi1D-Em8m19J8wxyltTyfrPJyLzIS5Xrtz9AqaD9r_tL3WVI6-kPjryDKrgrzdkvgX9_3_m3pRb4voIfitnsJMpfd-mtV4S41pM-N/s320/giphy-1.gif" width="255" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With a gif like Bill Murray, you know I'm serious. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've got some cool content coming up, and some interesting forensic-y stuff, too. So this isn't the end of the Middle Flipper, it just needed a breather. Thanks for sticking with me! I heart you guys, no matter if you agree with this blog :). Feel free to reach out to me if you need to talk, whether you're supportive of my opinion or you want to have a mature discussion exploring our different perspectives! </span><br />
<br />Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-75811414169973896502016-10-02T04:32:00.002-05:002016-10-02T04:32:50.258-05:00Zookeeper Fashion: SOS<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So the other day, one of our researchers introduced us to two new people joining their team. Here are the conclusions I've drawn about them:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">1. They are really smart</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2. They are really nice</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">3. THEY DRESS AMAZING</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFv1t8xU5B9sPaTdOWHRAAMA8I8BY1OMB2jBZbsz16iB6PIavS0wDPAm5o2kTyPZMNRF5ubLW6E7gKIlutoAKkMdgC9E16FymEAukYY4u8X6cOh9R_xHNQcyPqF80KTtJxeNvjdXndyg4T/s1600/r2bix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFv1t8xU5B9sPaTdOWHRAAMA8I8BY1OMB2jBZbsz16iB6PIavS0wDPAm5o2kTyPZMNRF5ubLW6E7gKIlutoAKkMdgC9E16FymEAukYY4u8X6cOh9R_xHNQcyPqF80KTtJxeNvjdXndyg4T/s320/r2bix.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fashion at home, fashion on the job</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In fact, I mentioned this to them after we worked together for one of their projects. I said, "Can I just say that you all dress fabulously?" They smiled politely, like....I totally realize how creepy I was being. But this feeling just welled within me and I had to acknowledge something that I've silently noticed for many years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Unlike most of my Middle Flipper entries, this is not one that I feel encompasses all of us. In fact, I think in this case, we fall into two separate categories. There are people who just KNOW how to dress great (like....all of my coworkers), and people who (like me) look like a garbage can even on our best days.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiltg3Qg9UYnVAEew0baP_LQblKg6pw14FqovqrFaZfa8fBIrYpxpzKLQFlynf1BuLOVf_hCooo4gDZDI3DWe1AN4WMmcmhANhnUaLBt_Ad8g0LCV8R9KMk1yA_DzsVa9ikKkIwly-k3__3/s1600/I-didnt-choose-p0fa2v.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiltg3Qg9UYnVAEew0baP_LQblKg6pw14FqovqrFaZfa8fBIrYpxpzKLQFlynf1BuLOVf_hCooo4gDZDI3DWe1AN4WMmcmhANhnUaLBt_Ad8g0LCV8R9KMk1yA_DzsVa9ikKkIwly-k3__3/s320/I-didnt-choose-p0fa2v.jpg" width="192" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TRUTH</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />But while at work, we are all the same. No matter what makeup or hair product we use, we still smell bad and look like a hot mess at the end of the day. How many times have you sat keeled over a wheel barrow, wondering how horrible your armpit sweat stains are? How many times have you put on a wetsuit that's just a few weeks old, realizing that the decomposing-body smell is not only coming from your suit, but it has permanently infiltrated your skin?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And then, someone from HR walks by. And oh my god. They look fantastic. They have a knack for bizcaz you just can't fathom. What is it LIKE to dress nice for work?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSeryq13AxLxCjHL9o36vCGkcOYZAzZvcs_mVT6DQcgwcLY_f87V9pqsunHA_Nrjxs36WjpYHoW8tipDS24aM0sinX5-H555Xr7818BZbwKQIkc7RsvWjjxkoKr23dTaN6PqpiMuER3wxL/s1600/Great-Fall-Outfits.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSeryq13AxLxCjHL9o36vCGkcOYZAzZvcs_mVT6DQcgwcLY_f87V9pqsunHA_Nrjxs36WjpYHoW8tipDS24aM0sinX5-H555Xr7818BZbwKQIkc7RsvWjjxkoKr23dTaN6PqpiMuER3wxL/s320/Great-Fall-Outfits.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of the non-keeper staff at our zoo/aquarium</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I remember when I was a little kid, I'd watch my parents' routine as they got ready for work. They'd get up really early, take showers, and then dress in their nice work clothes. They looked great. And when they came home, they looked tired, but still pretty darn good. All they had to do was slip into some PJs, have a beer, and enjoy the evening.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Here is an example of my routine:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Wake up really early, change a diaper (hint: not my own), brush my teeth, put on shoes. Brushing my air/putting on deodorant can happen at work. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then I get to work, get my 809 pounds of hair out of my face in something that can only be described as Hair Tumor, put on my uniform, and proceed to get fish blood, fish muscle tissue, salt water, and lunch all over myself. There are scales in my hair, there is dried blood under my fingernails. And by the time I need to go home, my Hair Tumor has metastasized to every location of my skull, where only the finest power tools can put it back in a manageable shape. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92svGhH6HfawaVGGcG-3bE6oF3zxvmrRgHNH5srQgyZPUWuQNu9Xck5_iSfknzgngsm14yV1wkovJ6CvL3O6HFsWEBgnzDjqqpm3E3bqqCR97ImQ3vIqt6YevdoLjXtQMaZrinO4LCCFE/s1600/425703_10100487064675391_171702217_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92svGhH6HfawaVGGcG-3bE6oF3zxvmrRgHNH5srQgyZPUWuQNu9Xck5_iSfknzgngsm14yV1wkovJ6CvL3O6HFsWEBgnzDjqqpm3E3bqqCR97ImQ3vIqt6YevdoLjXtQMaZrinO4LCCFE/s320/425703_10100487064675391_171702217_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hair tumor exploding out of my hat</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Even when I try to dress nice, like for a wedding or something, I still can't pull it off. First, I have no idea what to buy. Every time I go to a store, my zookeeper brain refuses to shut off. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Ooooo, can't have those shoes, they have no treads!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Dry clean only? HA HA HA"<br /><br /> I also blame my profession for lowering my expectations of how I dress myself. You know, if it's not khaki pants with a cotton shirt tucked in, then it's probably "fashionable". I've bought some really stupid looking outfits because at the time, I thought, "WOW THIS IS SO CHIC I AM GOING TO FINALLY LOOK LIKE ONE OF THOSE COOL GIRLS." And then I realize whoops, these are actually pajamas.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdt6bUESrUStUV4G56x4oKoMYW8m3EfOCP9gzs4YwYWBFvzGwfWNojccKrg_NCRJFaNDNXVU3nJTPciO8cuJvZH1xtPyVMSdlOhfLBvQw39fobqBQGWz1Su1rgmXKdc_7WxzD9-WNlKCHu/s1600/fashion-fashion_o_675052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdt6bUESrUStUV4G56x4oKoMYW8m3EfOCP9gzs4YwYWBFvzGwfWNojccKrg_NCRJFaNDNXVU3nJTPciO8cuJvZH1xtPyVMSdlOhfLBvQw39fobqBQGWz1Su1rgmXKdc_7WxzD9-WNlKCHu/s320/fashion-fashion_o_675052.jpg" width="209" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can dig it</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now some of you, the zookeepers who fall into the "I can look hot in an instant" category, WHAT IS YOUR SECRET? Can you please share? How do you do your hair? What do you do with all the flyaways? Do you just like, staple them to your head or something? Mine are always at full mast, ready to defy laws of physics in spite of any chemical product made for such a problem. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What about knowing like, what looks nice? Something that doesn't require dry-cleaning? Right now, I can basically handle the jeans+graphic tee combination. Everything usually gets buried under an enormous sweater. My nice clothes are usually, "Oh GOD I have to have something nice for this event that starts in seven hours, WHAT DOES MARSHALL'S HAVE THAT IS CHEAP?"</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHvjJrZfQyMzaMaekcPlFnoGuEx1OqAkvKnGkpPopcQPfEUVp12lhn2y8NoVNiwl8gEFUhWk4baCKCn8Mprhfgb-bAPVEtiZsceQrEdCjujFyvjc7K28OXYrbDV3Eyl4BxX57hKyFUY6MT/s1600/2bb37ab954fc934d43b62b6786d3d6a6f4307d23017c88de245f3103add3a6fe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHvjJrZfQyMzaMaekcPlFnoGuEx1OqAkvKnGkpPopcQPfEUVp12lhn2y8NoVNiwl8gEFUhWk4baCKCn8Mprhfgb-bAPVEtiZsceQrEdCjujFyvjc7K28OXYrbDV3Eyl4BxX57hKyFUY6MT/s320/2bb37ab954fc934d43b62b6786d3d6a6f4307d23017c88de245f3103add3a6fe.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, as a matter of fact I did.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For the love of god, can you fashion-savvy zookeepers please help the rest of us out? We want to feel clean and normal. We want to be comfortable, but feel confident in our look. We want clothes with less than 5 stains on them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">SOS!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinia87Ou9cvAcT4KAcBFB63CRSFj-B-p6BBM69FS3OQcRJb6vfcr2c2XridT-rHS69DcYI4HNagn0oLwWm47CET6zk9HX3brsHhp3d2Tx05h65WKUg5wbchazYTgoJJS4xlyOk2QFcdFfK/s1600/1528748_559515704132019_1600836991_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinia87Ou9cvAcT4KAcBFB63CRSFj-B-p6BBM69FS3OQcRJb6vfcr2c2XridT-rHS69DcYI4HNagn0oLwWm47CET6zk9HX3brsHhp3d2Tx05h65WKUg5wbchazYTgoJJS4xlyOk2QFcdFfK/s320/1528748_559515704132019_1600836991_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out that really sweet holiday outfit</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-81686740503699556572016-09-25T05:56:00.001-05:002016-09-25T05:56:17.675-05:00Don't Rob A Zookeeper<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Ugh. I've had one hell of a week.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I don't want to go into too much detail, but basically, this incident that happened to me on Sunday involved the following components:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMkMYD5XfCXncK53A4A4yDRkPdr5EjyeRNG-6vf77_vu-mAqeBEQRAsjymfa2C_0fbRFwe9ajm11vP8yzwF8F7QsY6MP5FEM2DohDqtfXSoOY3c2cU6eMbJtCpj8MJN7UaGKhMkzxoZWz/s1600/534c6c311593a5e6a218f42b3427bbab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMkMYD5XfCXncK53A4A4yDRkPdr5EjyeRNG-6vf77_vu-mAqeBEQRAsjymfa2C_0fbRFwe9ajm11vP8yzwF8F7QsY6MP5FEM2DohDqtfXSoOY3c2cU6eMbJtCpj8MJN7UaGKhMkzxoZWz/s1600/534c6c311593a5e6a218f42b3427bbab.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hint: It did not involve Halloween donuts</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">a) a random dude</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">b) super early in the morning (like, before 6am) on a Sunday in the parking garage at work</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">c) a gun</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">d) I no longer have a phone</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was really freaked out by this whole thing and luckily, it only resulted in a stolen phone. But as my extremely thoughtful and awesome coworkers pointed out, even in this incident there is some very Middle Flipper-worthy inspiration.<br /><br />So let's talk about why animal caretakers are probably the worst people to rob or threaten.</span><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1) We Have No Money</span></b></u><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqF7IhHKGZOu3kEOIwIatVtKNiBclR1SEeN2gqM5ODFRQg7Lc1J0ei4rckg9R5HEwE3SVJkXPBjW5zxvsxVE9b3VtXLmjeZPAA4XF67M-Ic2dtksjGagJOAhKVY3akzVd7z_yxEuI9KT4/s1600/Funny-memes-this-could-be-us-but-were-poor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqF7IhHKGZOu3kEOIwIatVtKNiBclR1SEeN2gqM5ODFRQg7Lc1J0ei4rckg9R5HEwE3SVJkXPBjW5zxvsxVE9b3VtXLmjeZPAA4XF67M-Ic2dtksjGagJOAhKVY3akzVd7z_yxEuI9KT4/s320/Funny-memes-this-could-be-us-but-were-poor.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dangit</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Cash? What cash? Ha ha ha, is this some kind of joke?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">How about a credit card? Are you sure you want this? Because actually, if you take it right now, I might have some leverage to get some of the charges on there taken off. Even though they're mine. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">True story: one of my coworkers said her credit card number was stolen online somehow, but all of the charges this criminal attempted to put on there all got declined because.......um, we are poor.</span><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2) We Are Eerily Calm In HOLY SH&% Situations</span></b></u><br />
<u><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></u>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhujyC8qAhXApu_a3fgAff3Ho8Amnerqp73_PW826gDVUYt4Nx0XEsxd3SVPQI7OAK_OW66KD1EeJnKkoDqg_ujg3tMWA2tYNThDuDzkIecNGuBTPRJtHfilKgiQ_MRV2A0ur_sq4yrhQfK/s1600/walter_white_twitter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhujyC8qAhXApu_a3fgAff3Ho8Amnerqp73_PW826gDVUYt4Nx0XEsxd3SVPQI7OAK_OW66KD1EeJnKkoDqg_ujg3tMWA2tYNThDuDzkIecNGuBTPRJtHfilKgiQ_MRV2A0ur_sq4yrhQfK/s320/walter_white_twitter.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Are we meditating? Or is our thumb being hacked off by a macaw?</td></tr>
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<u><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></u>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Lookit, that's our job. Is a sea lion chewing on my arm? Yes. But I....must....not...reinforce.................with...........................bloodcurdling scream...........</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If you're a criminal looking for an armed robbery and get a cheap thrill out of seeing people freak out, DEFINITELY do not go after a zookeeper. Personally, I've had a penguin bite me directly in the face, resulting in blood pouring out of my mouth. In front of guests. And had to pretend like nothing happened. Try having a gigantic animal not let you get out of the water. Zookeepers have endless stories that put them in the I Have No More Adrenaline To Give category.</span><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3) Our Phones Are Broken</span></b></u><br />
<u><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></u>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oHpOsU4vFp_5De-FSn7I_PfLbSkC28136lSOxxBemAfnR1iWUqk_D1TtGZsbQBFo1BaKC1-qLKnC1i35LdbkVCqD8S6b6tzWwlCwtnai2uckkC3UEGcBoRsYhyrpxz44t3y5jMAnNYq-/s1600/explosions-nokia-600x387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oHpOsU4vFp_5De-FSn7I_PfLbSkC28136lSOxxBemAfnR1iWUqk_D1TtGZsbQBFo1BaKC1-qLKnC1i35LdbkVCqD8S6b6tzWwlCwtnai2uckkC3UEGcBoRsYhyrpxz44t3y5jMAnNYq-/s320/explosions-nokia-600x387.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Things happen</td></tr>
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<u><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></u>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Let me tell you about my (former) cell phone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The screen was cracked from not one, but two woeful falls in my work locker room. Then, I put it in a case (because you know, crack the screen once, shame on you, crack it twice, time to get a case and ponder if it was such a good idea to NOT get insurance). I decide to get the screen fixed because it looks like a honey badger got a hold of it.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNFDtw_BCR0YtGKXecYrArMi8dWBuA9FYAXCer3ro2KfUIsTRIcsQPN5F6EHdtaZFBmM1HuWe-Z3hCxlujIpP9sufM6-5xglDOp1NsW5aejMARsx2Cw-SxDNB1zv_ODH2WtlRetkh98AF1/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNFDtw_BCR0YtGKXecYrArMi8dWBuA9FYAXCer3ro2KfUIsTRIcsQPN5F6EHdtaZFBmM1HuWe-Z3hCxlujIpP9sufM6-5xglDOp1NsW5aejMARsx2Cw-SxDNB1zv_ODH2WtlRetkh98AF1/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And that friend is me.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Here's where it gets good. To replace the screen, Apple needs to turn off some settings on the phone. Somehow, and I DO NOT KNOW HOW SO DO NOT ASK, I had three apple IDs on that thing. My real Apple ID, then another one that was mysteriously half of my ID username, and then one belonging to my husband Russ. And for some reason, the half ID and Russ' were the gatekeepers to settings that needed to be accessed in order for my screen to be replaced. Nothing I did allowed me to get the right passwords for these IDs. I tried everything. I went to the Apple store, where they told me I'd have to call customer service for help. I called them, explained this bizarre situation, to which they basically said I was effed. <br /><br />So for months now, I've been walking around with a shattered screen with randomly-appearing notices asking me to input passwords to one of three Apple IDs. But I've made do.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCJbLA5Osd3qm82OtVQP57LuJrnryRPcsrNx1_fA75bOG19zoXdW8c0p32evsAXt6XvpIUF9L4l9S-s5B80KiMBRZhBzfVDiTEYrDTCLhC6kUTtl2k2ydkw-CAB7EKW0_V2H4ZicQxJGGe/s1600/CLJMQkS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCJbLA5Osd3qm82OtVQP57LuJrnryRPcsrNx1_fA75bOG19zoXdW8c0p32evsAXt6XvpIUF9L4l9S-s5B80KiMBRZhBzfVDiTEYrDTCLhC6kUTtl2k2ydkw-CAB7EKW0_V2H4ZicQxJGGe/s320/CLJMQkS.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It'll be different this time</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So when it got stolen, I looked into the eyes of my assailant as he held a gun at my head and actually had a small, tiny, tiny piece of me that was like, "Oh...honey" as I handed over my phone. </span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMY_4kd_9O_GrxMVmLBxATmjpcbaqnz-26VIV5jwjOZ5Y_j9_DNptWRTiml1Pt4SPSd1tQMp5ryyC13GuOtLAMZ4BHdYzO-G9nD478DXCz7FyaJmE8BxMflU1rgYoYNvdrfimwTNJHYQG/s1600/3eQD4.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMY_4kd_9O_GrxMVmLBxATmjpcbaqnz-26VIV5jwjOZ5Y_j9_DNptWRTiml1Pt4SPSd1tQMp5ryyC13GuOtLAMZ4BHdYzO-G9nD478DXCz7FyaJmE8BxMflU1rgYoYNvdrfimwTNJHYQG/s400/3eQD4.gif" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">May the odds be ever in your favor to hack into my phone</td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Even if our phones are destroyed, if criminals knew what our phones:<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">a) had on them (photos piles of otter poop, anyone? How about a nice dolphin penis pic?) <br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">b) had on them (actual animal poop, traces of whatever food they eat, and any other small amounts of sacred fluids from our daily routine)....I don't think our phones would ever get stolen. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In fact, we could probably use them as repellent, but only if the thieves really understand WTF was on there.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">4) We Might Have A Crazy Animal Ready For Self Defense</span></b><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaCL7LJIhqcfzJhTaGGMLjjIXCFVuc8JynHcnVIRKrin-rz3sG-XLCrWqbEMYk_A6g-WFmux2cw5xr1qRi0Aj18YCbEyF3kPEMXDbOTd0JPrbnpB2BO8okYzlcRHZCnxhB-zQd8w-S51Xc/s1600/hqdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaCL7LJIhqcfzJhTaGGMLjjIXCFVuc8JynHcnVIRKrin-rz3sG-XLCrWqbEMYk_A6g-WFmux2cw5xr1qRi0Aj18YCbEyF3kPEMXDbOTd0JPrbnpB2BO8okYzlcRHZCnxhB-zQd8w-S51Xc/s320/hqdefault.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I SWEAR I WILL NEVER STEAL AGAIN JUST MAKE IT STOP</td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You, pointing a gun at my. Me, reaching into my glove compartment and......</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">BAM!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">PENGUIN! RIGHT AT YOUR FACE.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigVvjUnwYGYWO9_L07tho-0xO9cSy1BpysFJL-CR2wKpXTSYnRYSPcCvZgyzelXSsWpXMi3JGl6MzD8bS0HaThzhj1o6wAkhiNBbX1DxMJDwwX6Lc4Smr92cWxpbfSVuK9YcMtbj02KPQD/s1600/stock-photo-57615666.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigVvjUnwYGYWO9_L07tho-0xO9cSy1BpysFJL-CR2wKpXTSYnRYSPcCvZgyzelXSsWpXMi3JGl6MzD8bS0HaThzhj1o6wAkhiNBbX1DxMJDwwX6Lc4Smr92cWxpbfSVuK9YcMtbj02KPQD/s320/stock-photo-57615666.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JUST LET ME LIVE</td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Your screams are stifled by the blood pouring from your eyes as the penguin does what it has evolved over millions of years to do: destroy human faces. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Or maybe..............</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">PARROT. RIGHT AT YOUR NECK. Justifiable homocide. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Or.......................................</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">GIANT TARANTULA, Home-Alone style.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHFcb6Yv9i30mtEIicA-Sn_j3c6JpkjEtwlhX7BiAhrypfeuJdgln9SPYNdXM9m5DW0po_HfZmfWU30QZFNGDi2-MXv9COxoWYx5jSTHMVULNfyLkpQWNq0hzqOHcYhgTvOHNqVPVxwRf/s1600/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHFcb6Yv9i30mtEIicA-Sn_j3c6JpkjEtwlhX7BiAhrypfeuJdgln9SPYNdXM9m5DW0po_HfZmfWU30QZFNGDi2-MXv9COxoWYx5jSTHMVULNfyLkpQWNq0hzqOHcYhgTvOHNqVPVxwRf/s320/giphy.gif" width="306" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Works every time</td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">See the thing is, you criminals have no idea what us zookeepers might have in our car. Maybe we took someone home for extra special medical care. Maybe we are going to an outreach event. Maybe we like to travel with penguins in our car because the smell*.<br /><br />___________</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So obviously, number 4 may not be entirely honest. But what do those thugs know? And hey, maybe we zookeepers can come up with a self-defense method that's not as controversial as guns, easier than pepper spray, and is cheap cheap cheap:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Cups of poo. We all work with animals with the most disgusting poo. Just carry around a Big Gulp of your smelliest, most mucosal poop and get ready to slosh it right after you hand over your empty wallet. Or, if you're like me and only work with dolphins (whose poop is hard to collect in large enough quantities for this), there is nothing like a nice capelin sludge that's a few days ripe. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />Sigh. Stay safe out there friends. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">___________</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">* Okay, maybe not</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-56040585171632010072016-09-11T04:02:00.000-05:002016-09-11T04:02:04.075-05:00Dream A Little Dream<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's time we shed light on something that those of us in the zoo field have kept secret from the public for too long. This topic is sensitive, but it perfectly illustrates how much we care about our animals. Most of us don't make a lot of money, all of us work long hours and are not really "off" even when we're at home. Some of us may work in an environment where we encounter animal rights extremists routinely, or in a place where we are considered "replaceable assets" (and you all know how I feel about that). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We put up with a lot of uncomfortable situations in order to put the welfare of the animals in our care FIRST. And why are we hiding the most obvious example of this from the world? What am I talking about?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGWS3ScUN-jVYuQz6Q_EQEtGdlaS8u4KbLZ1a3SfXvQOUL4mavS0dGN3jLc4YamlhD3mCAA_6qXbSJyZmSIVnaJzK8VwjyDUf9WyfMh4WLcWX_98CcN-uyC7ap3xHh6BVwBeU9CKRFiqc/s1600/get-ready_o_267619.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGWS3ScUN-jVYuQz6Q_EQEtGdlaS8u4KbLZ1a3SfXvQOUL4mavS0dGN3jLc4YamlhD3mCAA_6qXbSJyZmSIVnaJzK8VwjyDUf9WyfMh4WLcWX_98CcN-uyC7ap3xHh6BVwBeU9CKRFiqc/s320/get-ready_o_267619.jpg" width="299" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's official. This is my favorite photo on the internet.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Anxiety dreams. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">No wait, anxiety WORK dreams.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">OMG I have had some insane work dreams and....I know all of you do too. You think you're able to turn off your zookeeper mindset as soon as you walk through the door into your home, but you know you'll answer work emails and think about the animals. So the moment you crawl into bed, close your eyes, and drift into that delicious state we know as sleep, you may believe that for the next several hours IN A ROW, you're going to be free from work. Your brain can finally rest.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6GI9AwmpMhyphenhyphenF-zIv9mpdEzkarbzQUkAcNqNnP941uR9lAcEvgQpA-OXvXFCa2xhzV2MQVk_ty3Z8Q3MGXDob8cK4twCx66hYrp4bVb2Dg-fZXqf7sQ8_WV-VNtMyL7aKqKIb8IlWNUaLe/s1600/Dream_map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="441" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6GI9AwmpMhyphenhyphenF-zIv9mpdEzkarbzQUkAcNqNnP941uR9lAcEvgQpA-OXvXFCa2xhzV2MQVk_ty3Z8Q3MGXDob8cK4twCx66hYrp4bVb2Dg-fZXqf7sQ8_WV-VNtMyL7aKqKIb8IlWNUaLe/s640/Dream_map.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fact: I lived in Florida for 11 years and I had so many bathroom dreams. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But then, when you least expect it, BAM. Your brain turns on you. It gathers all of your animal-related memories, your hopes, your fears, and a few random items that make absolutely no sense and mixes them together to form a volatile dream that will drain you of energy and force you to endure a resting heart rate of 200bpm, so you are basically ready to die when you wake up.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5yalDE3ntUSoWQlHCBxOCuayeT-RF06YCfZIewsFzqE06Kb5XM9w1L89J1JyuHhkRDZiLBLVVPKrtE9Mw-Lvb_twNPHRyV5v_gPPEsQD5aKhiRVUSSNPboAt3nxH_jqNDRjxSgcq39mtn/s1600/not-sure-if-actually-at-work-or-still-sleeping-and-dreaming-about-work-thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5yalDE3ntUSoWQlHCBxOCuayeT-RF06YCfZIewsFzqE06Kb5XM9w1L89J1JyuHhkRDZiLBLVVPKrtE9Mw-Lvb_twNPHRyV5v_gPPEsQD5aKhiRVUSSNPboAt3nxH_jqNDRjxSgcq39mtn/s1600/not-sure-if-actually-at-work-or-still-sleeping-and-dreaming-about-work-thumb.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YES. SO MUCH YES.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /><br />Let me give you a recent (personal) example. Usually, National Aquarium offers dolphin encounters on Saturdays. As some of you know, I've done dolphin encounters for basically my entire career, so there's really nothing I should feel anxiety about right? WRONG.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For some reason on Friday night, my brain decided that it was Time To Freak Out. I dreamed that I was at work (it looked nothing like our facility...sort of like a mashup of our place and Clearwater Marine Aquarium's indoor dolphin pools) and that one of the encounter guests showed up a day early to do the program. I kept telling him we'd see him tomorrow, and he kept insisting he had to get in the water.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then, boom. During a training session, he just jumps in the water. Immediately, my dream self tries to run through our SOP for water rescue with animals present, and I'm yelling and directing people and freaking out. And then I jump in and scoop out this guest, and yell at him, and banish him from the aquarium. But a guest services person was all like NO YOU CAN'T DO THAT IT'S BAD CUSTOMER SERVICE. So I was all like FINE IF HE DOES IT ONE MORE TIME THEN HE'S GONE.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtGIEn5YmWdX7aZ6MUbfrd__96WQSM-gxQnA1pofGDeK39t8x1BebfUczMySwhwt6RtDVuItrM_IMwdfus8vmkJA_ZSsJw51pQPinkBU-FUEg1pptw4KRz0LmSqxldT96gLNVlskcrAKEZ/s1600/270d4396fa6c887690eeb6dae53bde0e76fba49540d0871c42918dd0b933b40a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtGIEn5YmWdX7aZ6MUbfrd__96WQSM-gxQnA1pofGDeK39t8x1BebfUczMySwhwt6RtDVuItrM_IMwdfus8vmkJA_ZSsJw51pQPinkBU-FUEg1pptw4KRz0LmSqxldT96gLNVlskcrAKEZ/s320/270d4396fa6c887690eeb6dae53bde0e76fba49540d0871c42918dd0b933b40a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I MEAN IT!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Well, then he jumps in again. And if that wasn't terrible enough, he turned into a dolphin. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Yes, that's right. He became that which he sought to encounter. And pair swam with another dolphin. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But I wasn't having it. No, this was a massive safety concern. So I waited until guest-turned-dolphin swam by the side of the pool and snatched his hairless body right out of the pool. I held on to him, yelling victoriously as he kicked and kicked. And then I woke up, in a giant puddle of sweat.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I shared this story with my coworkers, which sparked an entire conversation about anxiety zoo dreams. Here are some of the highlights from that conversation, as well as others I've experienced or heard from some of you:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">1) Nani (our oldest dolphin) got stuck on top of a giant waterfall that was in her habitat, which happened to be located at Hersey Park.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFw415GM5uOZaf04XvLuWkImp4N8krBDzsfqXs7PknUEEbGOz1oG-CWLMwd9RvGXyLo12chLax_h1pUqx1WPIDeSiBqqqOfL3hbxyvO16XPWawPSXwJYoqmTFHp6LTxH-orP_C7M2ccVG6/s1600/14192505_10209710895225284_2088384253350748698_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFw415GM5uOZaf04XvLuWkImp4N8krBDzsfqXs7PknUEEbGOz1oG-CWLMwd9RvGXyLo12chLax_h1pUqx1WPIDeSiBqqqOfL3hbxyvO16XPWawPSXwJYoqmTFHp6LTxH-orP_C7M2ccVG6/s320/14192505_10209710895225284_2088384253350748698_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">brb, just going to the waterfall for a sec</td></tr>
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</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2) A marine park going out of business and draining all of its pools with the dolphins still in it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">3) Getting fired and/or being extremely late for a bizarre reason (this is a popular one). Some of my favorite reasons I've had include: I was in the wrong state, I kept driving around trying to find lunch and Red Bull but all of the stores were out...and once I went to Marineland even though I didn't work there anymore and found out that I actually was supposed to be working there, and had been on the schedule for weeks but was no-call, no-show, so I had to call Gulfarium and tell them I had to quit because I was oops, accidentally employed by another place.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvDMMuQNWlH5a3KUsesU0THTGpdTASVGvQLn6QNzCUAdyIkOh2IQBYkJx693D2vJm47kea9Q6JUId9XQxnildh4ZOonoZfzqhf6AoALMyL7AKRMOdYeSOTUdazZqf2rjyW_RQWCZ5TUCc/s1600/3a7be6672fa6a5612709a9cdde2aa2a34172fe2de23546bb41c9d11608645310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvDMMuQNWlH5a3KUsesU0THTGpdTASVGvQLn6QNzCUAdyIkOh2IQBYkJx693D2vJm47kea9Q6JUId9XQxnildh4ZOonoZfzqhf6AoALMyL7AKRMOdYeSOTUdazZqf2rjyW_RQWCZ5TUCc/s320/3a7be6672fa6a5612709a9cdde2aa2a34172fe2de23546bb41c9d11608645310.jpg" width="317" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well I mean, Marineland has some great holiday parties. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">4) A dolphin kept changing from human form to person form.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">5) Doing waterwork for an interview at a show in a pool that is in front of thousands of people in the middle of a city with traffic rushing by</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What's makes these dreams worse is that usually, your surroundings are nightmarishly unfamiliar. It's very rare to have a dream where your environment is a perfect copy of what it is in real life. Somehow, you know where you are, but it's completely wrong. In one of my dreams, Brookfield Zoo's marine mammal area looked like a gigantic metal tube with portholes looking into the exhibits, and you had to feed the animals (and put all of their toys in) via these portholes. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzYqfI7W4j-PVG8fLc5eu2e2TSbxbgCpk01bsx-zoMaiJwAGWrVGiZqf4-QwJ2LdxnGEBCKvzbqpMLzi8jxEX_KY6PT4XEvkiy6F5qLOYyw9GJMmDcCif43iKeyUZrx5Ln8qMyAZMgTzh/s1600/tumblr_inline_n2nap8bV1k1rf8mig.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzYqfI7W4j-PVG8fLc5eu2e2TSbxbgCpk01bsx-zoMaiJwAGWrVGiZqf4-QwJ2LdxnGEBCKvzbqpMLzi8jxEX_KY6PT4XEvkiy6F5qLOYyw9GJMmDcCif43iKeyUZrx5Ln8qMyAZMgTzh/s320/tumblr_inline_n2nap8bV1k1rf8mig.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where the hell am I?</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've dreamed that Clearwater Marine Aquarium was basically in the same building a pool at this place I visit in northern Wisconsin was, except much larger than the swimming pool (obviously) and all of the sea turtles were kept in a bizarre maze in the basement.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'helvetica neue', arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't know why these dreams happen, but they definitely show how much we think about the lives we've dedicated our own to. There is no clock-in, clock-out lifestyle in our field. We embrace the fun stuff, we embrace the sad stuff, we embrace the hard stuff, and then we sleep and embrace the freakish neural firings that remind us of our commitment to the animals we love so much.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'helvetica neue', arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Now! I want YOU to share your work anxiety dreams. I'll bet there are some really good ones. Share away!</span>Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-1781417410181611632016-09-04T05:33:00.000-05:002016-09-04T05:33:13.022-05:00The Friday Factor in Animal Training<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; line-height: normal;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every. Time.</td></tr>
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We animal care professionals know that the word “Friday” generally means The Day That Immediately Precedes Our Weekend Which Is Usually Not Really A Weekend. That is to say, most of us work through the weekends (or at least one weekend day). </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Even though we love our jobs, we get the same Monday Blues anyone else does. Because weekends are awesome. Sleeping in is awesome*. Doing whatever you want is awesome. Eating junk food for 18 straight hours because everyone knows weekend food has no calories in it is awesome.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglMud-YBnBhNBAnLwtRJZ6LQSG_8eKoLLKjefXfOeChooB2o4c28WdDNscX1rkuVsF4yV2wvAOh6SZwnOs7LakbKgiSfWxVo9KXOG-ubHIvMjDpfdTDriWG6WyVTY6ExYKz2Re1XeG0vpn/s1600/Instagram-Uh-oh-BBi9rFgvY2U.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglMud-YBnBhNBAnLwtRJZ6LQSG_8eKoLLKjefXfOeChooB2o4c28WdDNscX1rkuVsF4yV2wvAOh6SZwnOs7LakbKgiSfWxVo9KXOG-ubHIvMjDpfdTDriWG6WyVTY6ExYKz2Re1XeG0vpn/s320/Instagram-Uh-oh-BBi9rFgvY2U.png" width="283" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every. Time.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What’s even tougher is that it feels like the rest of the world is on a Normal Schedule. When you turn on the radio, there is usually reference to how close we all are to Normal Weekends. Like, “Hey everybody, it’s HUMP DAY!” but really, it’s my Monday, so I’m all like bummed because everyone else listening to the radio knows their weekend is just around the corner, and mine is eons away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Or when you’re in the store, and the cashier wishes you a happy weekend, but to you Saturday and Sunday means working 16 to 20 hours with Insane Summer Crowds, and you sort of want to cry until all of your water leaves your body and you are left a shriveled, desiccated shell. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Again, our jobs are super awesome. Once we are there, we love it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">But when it’s that time, that glorious time, when you realize it’s Your Friday, some really profound things start to happen. You get really happy. It’s an impenetrable-sort of happy that is only destroyed if something absolutely terrible happens, but pretty much everything else is meaningless. Have a coworker driving you nuts? Have a grueling eight hours ahead of you? No biggee, Friday Glow will protect you.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbExgmnujfruV__Si_dy8DXr9e_X0GklsdSHL9Gr1yx6lg8pjkds0348cGcFdsN_bxRVkZ1HOYElM-IHSZ4CTA5SoE6fb-OSxEiqk8PPAztxx2-mu6-lH1nHUJGOlfKupyPVoHuPlTwgb/s1600/55826265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbExgmnujfruV__Si_dy8DXr9e_X0GklsdSHL9Gr1yx6lg8pjkds0348cGcFdsN_bxRVkZ1HOYElM-IHSZ4CTA5SoE6fb-OSxEiqk8PPAztxx2-mu6-lH1nHUJGOlfKupyPVoHuPlTwgb/s320/55826265.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">This feeling that your weekend is just on the horizon means you Can Do Anything. You have so many Weekend Plans every Friday, don’t you? The possibilities are endless, your soul is filled with hope. You’re going to see that movie, go to the gym twice, catch up with an old friend and then feed all of the world’s starving children. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And then.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The weekend comes. And you spend it doing something profound such as: avoiding laundry. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Before you know it, you’ve eaten 6 metric tons of Cheetos and watched every season of Walking Dead and it’s now Monday morning. You accomplished literally none of the fun and/or productive things you’d planned just a couple of days earlier.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjn7_m2aTa025-ZHqUajeMU74WvC14i6GS1tDaX3herOUVBFlqTvcP1douiivcRq-SF6Z09uCzxIBaRNmypIHyRN_52Rv1kEfW5q0GTQ2h1-vaBlVcnEvVGqW6H1oaNVCmVfEo5So2dnD/s1600/Weekends-Expectation-vs-Reality-to-join-Night-party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjn7_m2aTa025-ZHqUajeMU74WvC14i6GS1tDaX3herOUVBFlqTvcP1douiivcRq-SF6Z09uCzxIBaRNmypIHyRN_52Rv1kEfW5q0GTQ2h1-vaBlVcnEvVGqW6H1oaNVCmVfEo5So2dnD/s320/Weekends-Expectation-vs-Reality-to-join-Night-party.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">EXACTLY</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">We need to carpe diem! We need to follow through on our Weekend Dreams. And you know what’s more insane? Those of us who train animals do the SAME thing with our animals as we do to our weekends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What do I mean?<br />
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Okay, since I’m a marine mammal trainer, I’m going to use marine mammal training as an example.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">When you start a session, you’ve got a full: bucket, basket of toys, brain of ideas.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSHnaErABX0ZgbtzecTiFdGC-eaOBzwcH8dwikzYd3nNUMFQCTBpn1-1esMU04YF1Vp6POkPk_c6xK1OG6-J2on3RINOa9ggCtmN5rLYsBKzr8lMRT_OASQtV0sdkfx6FasiTHH4hOSFfp/s1600/funny-photos-expectation-vs-reality-18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSHnaErABX0ZgbtzecTiFdGC-eaOBzwcH8dwikzYd3nNUMFQCTBpn1-1esMU04YF1Vp6POkPk_c6xK1OG6-J2on3RINOa9ggCtmN5rLYsBKzr8lMRT_OASQtV0sdkfx6FasiTHH4hOSFfp/s320/funny-photos-expectation-vs-reality-18.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Um, I choose you, little bread Picachu? </td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Everything seems possible. You’ve Got Plans for this session, oh boy, oh boy! Your training session is like every Friday you’ve ever had. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">And then, your session starts. The dolphin’s mood is sort of meh. Or you realize your boot has a hole in the bottom, and now your socks are soaking wet. Or another trainer is doing a really complicated medical behavior and has asked everyone else to keep their dolphins quiet. Whatever the case may be, all of your Session Hopes have been dashed. The thrill is gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So there you sit, haphazardly feeding boring behaviors with boring amounts of food, half-heartedly tossing toys out just because you realize you’re running out of food. The session is a dud. The session is your wasted weekend.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">To all of you I say, let us take back our weekends, figuratively and literally! We work so hard. We are physically and emotionally labored and exhausted. We give up time with our families, we miss holidays, many of us live paycheck to paycheck. We DESERVE a good weekend. We and our animals DESERVE a fun training session as often as possible (how about like, every time?).</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRtWRGFVH-zIgqx1c7WIj34Zv6riSBhcKve3rJecYcGaz7r8uvJ0-p6yrxS7975PFeFk1ZSAYshhhFRUNahLldbX3wuWcQjrHOpJa7H9Q6rZXN66O8tqvfCsJaOinsk5lcNcu-uVGhKvFl/s1600/13418773_10102065427413811_8687744489580313598_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRtWRGFVH-zIgqx1c7WIj34Zv6riSBhcKve3rJecYcGaz7r8uvJ0-p6yrxS7975PFeFk1ZSAYshhhFRUNahLldbX3wuWcQjrHOpJa7H9Q6rZXN66O8tqvfCsJaOinsk5lcNcu-uVGhKvFl/s320/13418773_10102065427413811_8687744489580313598_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They deserve it!</td></tr>
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No matter what it is that removes that hopeful, creative and energetic zest from your mind, find ways to rediscover it. So often, what we hope will happen only happens when we WORK to get it. It rarely just happens, especially in animal training. Going through the motions is not enough. <br />
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When I get like that, I try to come up with a game to play with the animal. I’ll hide toys, teach them to wait while I toss them out, or mix up my reinforcement intervals. Those are super easy to do, and make a big difference in your session because both of you have to pay attention to do it right. I’ll give myself challenges in sessions where I’m feeling really uninspired, like not asking for certain behaviors I always ask for….because even that tiny change makes a big, happy difference to the animals. I experiment with what games or toys the animals are into. Even if it’s a big fail, it’s fun to try. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So go see that movie. Take a long bike ride. Get a tattoo. Play with your animals and leave each session so you and the animals are thinking, “THAT WAS SO FUN YESSSSSSSS.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What about you guys? What are some ways you inspire yourself during sessions and weekends?</span></div>
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* What is “sleeping in” again?</span></div>
Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-85585939820709831282016-08-14T03:56:00.000-05:002016-08-14T03:56:55.957-05:00Fish Truck Delivery aka NIGHTMARE FROM THE DARK PLACE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Quick quiz:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Are you a marine mammal specialist?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Do you feed your animals frozen fish?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Are you a masochist?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCSrkojDokljPOy_7jo9wNCAoQxqu6f5O6F3mnnqukCzYSTG22E2VvuGG-t4MMsq2GT0YWhy6OXafXj4v5TU-VgeIQJ5Izv3mIGPhnvxx5WgfaXYIp0hQ7fASUTSZpNPux0KRWtqeJaD5/s1600/49628a6e9a799bc570490225e62b37d5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCSrkojDokljPOy_7jo9wNCAoQxqu6f5O6F3mnnqukCzYSTG22E2VvuGG-t4MMsq2GT0YWhy6OXafXj4v5TU-VgeIQJ5Izv3mIGPhnvxx5WgfaXYIp0hQ7fASUTSZpNPux0KRWtqeJaD5/s320/49628a6e9a799bc570490225e62b37d5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">STOP IT RIGHT NOW</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you answered "Yes" to any of those questions, then you'll relate to today's Middle Flipper. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You don't have to answer "yes" to all of them, just one will suffice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You guys all probably have dealt with at least one fish truck delivery in your career lifetime. And, let's face it, it probably wasn't the most awesome thing ever.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Every reasonable person knows that we as animal caregivers do all parts of our job - fun or not - with 110% effort, because we know it's for the animals. Receiving shipments of fish is one of those tasks whose fun-level falls somewhere between "Picking Up Wet Hair With Your Bare Hands" and "Being Electrocuted." Alas, it is an essential part of our job and so we grin and bear it.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGuayCewyB6ufCxrIfPiqKlLmERCdNe86mzBY9wcokuVjeZyGi6l_aYAZUqsx7vUCR9-Ewamk5Ob2LA1KgzetYJnGvOM2tCexWB7J1FuL65N4UpCtswM9qo7S68DKM0XpeLfjI1I61WCJ/s1600/uco51XF.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGuayCewyB6ufCxrIfPiqKlLmERCdNe86mzBY9wcokuVjeZyGi6l_aYAZUqsx7vUCR9-Ewamk5Ob2LA1KgzetYJnGvOM2tCexWB7J1FuL65N4UpCtswM9qo7S68DKM0XpeLfjI1I61WCJ/s320/uco51XF.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just deal with it</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What's so frustrating about fish delivery, you may ask? (I'm assuming you've never experienced it if you're asking). Here's a short list:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">1) Our fish has to stay below a certain (freezing) temperature 100% of the time</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2) Our facilities are, for the most part, not designed for giant shipments of anything</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">3) Most fish deliveries have several stops in other states</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">4) The time/space continuum operate on a completely different dimension (did you say you'll be here at 11:30? Is that on Earth time or Alpha Centauri time?)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">5) Truck drivers are otherworldly creatures sent by the gods to test us mortals</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYHstVRZyiwMBUCzeGwNrjLx_MVjeSlbyCoVeKiXiAgn3npZpL1dNPn8wLGDq8MZiaCAzx4El11REWJTvfLtsUY55G7ejgGeYyZ6XJqBIIYkRg72lY1UVbd7OjxVrxW-RNMIEbSWQG-TXz/s1600/4a06925b02be14bbe26197e440d88defe63f368cefddf8159c868aea713e628a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYHstVRZyiwMBUCzeGwNrjLx_MVjeSlbyCoVeKiXiAgn3npZpL1dNPn8wLGDq8MZiaCAzx4El11REWJTvfLtsUY55G7ejgGeYyZ6XJqBIIYkRg72lY1UVbd7OjxVrxW-RNMIEbSWQG-TXz/s320/4a06925b02be14bbe26197e440d88defe63f368cefddf8159c868aea713e628a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JUST GIVE ME OUR FISH SHIPMENT</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For those of us who live in hot places, or whose summers get super hot, fish deliveries are really tricky if ANYTHING goes wrong. The longer the journey and the more stops the truck has, the more likely something is going to get messed up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Here are just some of the experiences I've had with fish truck deliveries. It's okay to laugh at them. Laughter is better than pulling your own eyeballs out of your head.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>The Time When We Got Someone Else's Fis</b><b>h</b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVvBrpLeyJTQzriPzen3pue5tuzjx1-kd-Ggh9BLb0SMQliKXdsAifKQieqCbNUT0NLUon5zwAnpf-rdIDZaq0XCTSZP7UmZypEgPalK0d8J73nvNDOhirXTgo7OiWZTxNqiLMoH-B2vPg/s1600/This-isnt-my-memes51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVvBrpLeyJTQzriPzen3pue5tuzjx1-kd-Ggh9BLb0SMQliKXdsAifKQieqCbNUT0NLUon5zwAnpf-rdIDZaq0XCTSZP7UmZypEgPalK0d8J73nvNDOhirXTgo7OiWZTxNqiLMoH-B2vPg/s320/This-isnt-my-memes51.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But it's a great color for you!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Picture this: you, waiting for a delivery that's been delayed several hours because it hit Atlanta traffic during its delivery to a facility there. You eagerly await the final backing-in of the semi trailer that holds thousands of dollars worth of fish. You've only got a couple of days' worth of food in your freezer, so this delivery came in the knick of time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The truck driver opens the back of the trailer. You hop in the back of the truck and</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Oh.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Oh no.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This fish isn't yours. SOMEONE ELSE HAS YOUR BOXES OF FISH.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Surely this isn't so. I mean, the boxes are wrapped in plastic shrink wrap. There are 395802983058 million of them and they all look the same, because they are all from the same place. But you notice you have sea animals you don't even feed to the animals in your care. You've got way too many boxes of the stuff you DO feed to your animals. Oh god.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Luckily, the problem was solved with several phone calls and some extra truck time. All the fish stayed cool, and everyone wound up getting what they needed in time. </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Time When The Truck Driver Proposed To A Trainer</span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMsTsEB_ED7tAOs2KMw1O6Eaczy60LLgNlmePzmaoPphlUDJvbqSttV9MnDr2A8r3MfmFeTltMvCYKDLjidW9jGWTIzgejO2YZn4Ga0ziOjEYyx1b1a9ZZG-rqLZUEdyTeH4JwJkQJXbcu/s1600/32fd24ad10c9a28a0ad1c1ecfead24d8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMsTsEB_ED7tAOs2KMw1O6Eaczy60LLgNlmePzmaoPphlUDJvbqSttV9MnDr2A8r3MfmFeTltMvCYKDLjidW9jGWTIzgejO2YZn4Ga0ziOjEYyx1b1a9ZZG-rqLZUEdyTeH4JwJkQJXbcu/s1600/32fd24ad10c9a28a0ad1c1ecfead24d8.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He's from eastern Europe. He speaks 29 words of English, two of those are "marry me". <br /><br />She is wearing a bathing suit, a life jacket vest (chic, elegant), and gigantic steel-toed boots. What more can I say?</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Time When The Truck Driver Didn't Know How To Back Up His Rig</span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZhWE6uvUFt54xGH3K3HHGZWtwB-r0i0xRWcd-_REe8x8K99k9tOikcpyobGH59mrPA9D7xZhBxStv7LkbfHXAqLgfW0-JyU5AbgKp_iPLRpc8qU2-nbx2Y3GZmSdiVCNRBitluOr-A2G2/s1600/untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZhWE6uvUFt54xGH3K3HHGZWtwB-r0i0xRWcd-_REe8x8K99k9tOikcpyobGH59mrPA9D7xZhBxStv7LkbfHXAqLgfW0-JyU5AbgKp_iPLRpc8qU2-nbx2Y3GZmSdiVCNRBitluOr-A2G2/s1600/untitled.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...can't...unsee....</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">One of the places I worked at is on a two-lane highway. It's usually not super busy, and the speed limit in front of the aquarium is 35mph. But....about two inches up the road it's 55mph and people are not very happy or inclined to slow down. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This creates a really unique situation for, oh, let's say a semi who blocks the entire highway because he got his rig stuck in the sandy shoulder.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Don't worry though, us trainers in our bathing suits put out traffic cones and got to stare into the soulless eyes of the drivers forced to remain inert.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong>The Time When The Truck Just Didn't Show Up</strong></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ciKgGv-YoK5Rq-JPGu4lmdcnRRWWpYe0dxl5IyKQSXu2wTlGzHq9lFXWm8huRDzEyMUvTavaLk-RvQk3NAV6Y-DRKkowPyZarIgabl5yenTVAQQKGECXzN-axqRAWKnyOpZiPjDOrOh_/s1600/tumblr_lfgs5qYWbW1qgxm4ao1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ciKgGv-YoK5Rq-JPGu4lmdcnRRWWpYe0dxl5IyKQSXu2wTlGzHq9lFXWm8huRDzEyMUvTavaLk-RvQk3NAV6Y-DRKkowPyZarIgabl5yenTVAQQKGECXzN-axqRAWKnyOpZiPjDOrOh_/s320/tumblr_lfgs5qYWbW1qgxm4ao1_500.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just take the day off.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><strong><br /></strong>Fish delivery? What fish delivery?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">More importantly, what are we going to feed the dolphins tomorrow? Pizza?</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Time When We Had To Unstack Everything By Hand And The Driver Just Sat There And Got Pissed That He Was Going To Be Late For His Next Stop But He Never Offered To Help But I'm Not Bitter Or Anything</span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvvsrfRQi3pHFNLStnQIBDWvMK_KURVCWPw_PH8U2BkQJ9fZ9ltzf5h9rNvFMAqhuVsDT2fjvMlGmULQVqZuDjqkKJ-X3FN0083bqOCf7qLSCKwg96CIY2KnSckmc68f9Pz5-n0wfaT3V0/s1600/tumblr_lnqjqmuSVh1qbgafh.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvvsrfRQi3pHFNLStnQIBDWvMK_KURVCWPw_PH8U2BkQJ9fZ9ltzf5h9rNvFMAqhuVsDT2fjvMlGmULQVqZuDjqkKJ-X3FN0083bqOCf7qLSCKwg96CIY2KnSckmc68f9Pz5-n0wfaT3V0/s1600/tumblr_lnqjqmuSVh1qbgafh.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nope. Not bitter at all.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Lookit, I know I'm not a truck driver. I respect the profession. Just as people criticize us in our jobs, it's unfair to lump a few bad experiences into a stereotype. But if I were a statistician (which I am not, for obvious reasons such as: I am a mathematical idiot), I would find a strong statistically significant relationship between Times We Need Fish Delivered and Times Fish Delivery Goes Totally Wrong. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Does anyone else have this problem outside of the marine mammal/aquatic world? Do shipments of produce go missing? If you ordered 78 bales of hay, do you get a marriage proposal? Please tell me we are not alone in this....</span></div>
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Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360440317568283133.post-21039901040158953232016-08-07T04:07:00.005-05:002016-08-07T04:07:51.021-05:00In Honor of Dr. Louis Herman (Special Guest Writer: Susie Walker)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Susie is not only an incredible coworker and tremendously kind person, she is basically like a celebrity in my eyes. Why? Because she got to work with the dolphins and researchers who first sparked my passion for understanding the minds of animals. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thank you, Dr. Herman. You have inspired so many people to think about animals (humans included) in a way that unites us all. You were a very, very special soul.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzC1ucnG8yL2GpulcB5sj0TBEffyJg6rUMnwwk_ngYEs5yq5kKm6g0aDoWOcad7YIcYsy_O-mcBSDXyOKhHxxIYK4zfTJQLhz8hHHhOoGV5UuuxSCFP2kNP9R6GL4OZraLI6uAu-6qZfZL/s1600/Lou.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzC1ucnG8yL2GpulcB5sj0TBEffyJg6rUMnwwk_ngYEs5yq5kKm6g0aDoWOcad7YIcYsy_O-mcBSDXyOKhHxxIYK4zfTJQLhz8hHHhOoGV5UuuxSCFP2kNP9R6GL4OZraLI6uAu-6qZfZL/s320/Lou.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just a few days ago, the marine mammal field lost an incredible man and accomplished scientist. Dr. Louis Herman, Professor Emeritus from the psychology department of the University of Hawaii, pioneered the scientific study of dolphin cognition and communication, as well as humpback whale biology and behavior in Hawaiian waters. His work changed the way we think about cetaceans, and he contributed volumes to what we know about the animals with whom many of us work so closely today. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Lou Herman meant so very much to many people, and certainly to me as I worked closely with him as a member of his team for eleven years. I wanted to share a little about him and honor him through my dear co-worker Cat Rust’s blog, and she graciously allowed me to be a guest author in order to do so.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Writing this post was exceptionally difficult. How could I possibly find the right words to describe just how incredible Lou was? Or just how much he contributed to the world’s knowledge of dolphins and humpback whales? How could I put into words what he taught us, and how he inspired and continues to inspire so many?</span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Let me first give a brief history of Lou’s career. Lou founded the Kewalo Basin Marine Mammal Laboratory (KBMML) in 1970. He sought to create a learning environment for dolphins that allowed their intellect to blossom. With a unique long-term program of education, he believed the dolphins in his care could reveal their cognitive and communicative abilities.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYKOK3rA8MZiFtdqeIaQCx_G52wbysu1vrcYKY6XxJK3Hq2rV7HJ1_10CpWyGq0zaqK3LJT8fKQoagrP5FkXtebkQjyn3SNd8g0RfcKE0QQcc2ivXv4arJJhFcn_1ZhXj4h2hqEGmwLTZw/s1600/KBMMLrainbow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYKOK3rA8MZiFtdqeIaQCx_G52wbysu1vrcYKY6XxJK3Hq2rV7HJ1_10CpWyGq0zaqK3LJT8fKQoagrP5FkXtebkQjyn3SNd8g0RfcKE0QQcc2ivXv4arJJhFcn_1ZhXj4h2hqEGmwLTZw/s320/KBMMLrainbow.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kewalo Basin Marine Mammal Laboratory</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When he began his work, Lou thought about whales and dolphins differently than many, believing them to be highly intelligent. Lou’s goals were certainly ambitious. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For over three decades, Lou and his team worked to better understand the cognitive, behavioral, and sensory capabilities of the bottlenose dolphins living at KBMML. Groundbreaking discoveries with these dolphins included abilities for language comprehension, vocal and behavioral imitation, "imaging" of objects through echolocation, interpretation of television displays and scenes, understanding of human pointing and gaze cues, and evidence of self-awareness.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In 1975, Lou branched out and began studying the humpback whales found in Hawaiian waters in the winter. This became an annual project, and over a period of more than three decades, Lou and his KBMML colleagues discovered valuable information on humpback whale distribution, demographics, social behavior, reproductive strategies, habitat use, communication, and song. Knowledge in these areas helped in developing regulations for protecting endangered humpback whales in Hawaii.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5frusIcPNHHBniWn5ByPnPzDyqr4PbWrzFM0fQw3bFN6iNPBQ2y82E05V_krVGkiUTWVfKblQxQzFM6Lga3rHJ3VufPquj_jeTa29JbOI5t4m5vpVRLSN8Qd6K6eiAEgeyo_3LIqzfv3/s1600/whales.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5frusIcPNHHBniWn5ByPnPzDyqr4PbWrzFM0fQw3bFN6iNPBQ2y82E05V_krVGkiUTWVfKblQxQzFM6Lga3rHJ3VufPquj_jeTa29JbOI5t4m5vpVRLSN8Qd6K6eiAEgeyo_3LIqzfv3/s1600/whales.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Studying Hawaiian humpback whales</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Over the years, Lou and his team at KBMML published over 160 peer-reviewed journal articles, book chapters, theses, and dissertations on their findings. This firmly established KBMML as a world leader in the field of marine mammal science. KBMML was also featured in many television documentaries, IMAX films, magazine and newspaper articles, and books. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I first learned about Lou and KBMML in 1994 while participating in my first internship at the Dolphin Research Center. Vicki Beaver, one of many talented staff members there, did a presentation on dolphin intelligence, which naturally included information on Lou’s work. I was fortunately in attendance and was transfixed by what she had to say.</span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nTlOG0BBKiutUTTwJHiKCljlq25b5ci1RPtGxXzupsEZfkRPLyfS7MbSmBjDePrz_8DC4WQ25bdNNo_DNC3hSCQaOf4xifhyphenhyphenh1zWseZNagRDdGhu_J2S4LVa-BeVY7mwo859xu9jMgH4/s1600/akeleapingdiamondhead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nTlOG0BBKiutUTTwJHiKCljlq25b5ci1RPtGxXzupsEZfkRPLyfS7MbSmBjDePrz_8DC4WQ25bdNNo_DNC3hSCQaOf4xifhyphenhyphenh1zWseZNagRDdGhu_J2S4LVa-BeVY7mwo859xu9jMgH4/s320/akeleapingdiamondhead.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I returned home, I rushed to my college library and read as much as I could about Dr. Louis Herman and KBMML. As I pored over journal articles, I learned about so many clever and interesting studies that resulted in fascinating insights into dolphin intelligence. Of these, one in particular really stood out to me. This was the work on language comprehension.</span><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Some of you may be familiar with this work. For those of you who aren’t, I feel compelled to share the basics of this important research. I hope it fascinates you as it did me all those years ago. </span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The language work with the dolphins went through a few iterations, but ultimately resulted in teaching an artificial sign language to the dolphins. This was a language designed by the researchers and was not related to human sign language. Initially, two female dolphins, Akeakamai (“lover of wisdom” in Hawaiian) and Phoenix learned this language.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Sj3d74bOjT47M0kIn2ycsdIXdQa7g9HkoFte6VWEWJuhEENTzURPu6qzBieD9sofKkwVLM8SHR8w8a6XFKuL-MSvmuPEYFJanxaarX_rZ3AWuABIRHJxEbWr8iYZpsUtRpe5__nsV4wG/s1600/phoenixakeakamai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Sj3d74bOjT47M0kIn2ycsdIXdQa7g9HkoFte6VWEWJuhEENTzURPu6qzBieD9sofKkwVLM8SHR8w8a6XFKuL-MSvmuPEYFJanxaarX_rZ3AWuABIRHJxEbWr8iYZpsUtRpe5__nsV4wG/s320/phoenixakeakamai.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phoenix and Akeakamai</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In this artificial language, hand signals represented a variety of objects, actions, and modifiers. There was a particular grammar to the language. For example, two word sentences were in the form of OBJECT + ACTION. The sentence, SURFBOARD + OVER, asked the dolphin to swim to the surfboard and jump over it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lebXZsP6VLSWQMxnPJQfEdD8DN0bOtDSHjwn9dpO6KG05BOrVovRFcgj2AfwCb3bHPSZwJdHyEKqfs8U05w5H-BGnFLk0W-87o6Sg9Cjboi9RE4xU07huPuQvuhNBGdbDqLOMoQFIDZj/s1600/hiapoleaping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lebXZsP6VLSWQMxnPJQfEdD8DN0bOtDSHjwn9dpO6KG05BOrVovRFcgj2AfwCb3bHPSZwJdHyEKqfs8U05w5H-BGnFLk0W-87o6Sg9Cjboi9RE4xU07huPuQvuhNBGdbDqLOMoQFIDZj/s320/hiapoleaping.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Modifiers could be added to these simpler sentences as well. Sentences of this nature took the form of MODIFIER + OBJECT + ACTION. The sentence, LEFT + PIPE + MOUTH, asked the dolphin to swim to the pipe on her left (of two pipes available) and open her mouth next to it.</span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The more complicated sentences asking the dolphins to follow instructions involving multiple objects had a reverse sentence structure. These were in the form, DESTINATION OBJECT + TRANSPORT OBJECT + ACTION. For example, BASKET + BALL + IN asked the dolphin to locate the ball and place it inside the basket. The grammar was designed this way so the dolphin had to watch the entire sentence before she could perform any of it. This was key so that the dolphins couldn’t simply learn to chain behaviors. It was important to Lou to strongly demonstrate the ability of the dolphins to comprehend the components of language.</span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The dolphins could also report on the presence or absence of named objects in their habitat. For this, there were two paddles on the edge of the pool, a YES paddle and a NO paddle. The researchers could ask the dolphin a question with the sentence, OBJECT + QUESTION. For example, WATER + QUESTION asked the dolphin, “Is there a stream of water in your pool?” The dolphin then responded by pressing either the YES paddle or the NO paddle.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIc5kIKVcGh4ax0I5Ml_t_g_HuTrtRgu7-U2QkO4sDd_rRv57xbHfeP6TzyyiQXflsbsx-3Xjk24h-dTkTuW4CaJ_xZ2Vl8FxFTSPFTVTiRsN_7WsGM3OE2iPSaDjRjLj2yzFgxbP0gErs/s1600/akenopaddle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIc5kIKVcGh4ax0I5Ml_t_g_HuTrtRgu7-U2QkO4sDd_rRv57xbHfeP6TzyyiQXflsbsx-3Xjk24h-dTkTuW4CaJ_xZ2Vl8FxFTSPFTVTiRsN_7WsGM3OE2iPSaDjRjLj2yzFgxbP0gErs/s1600/akenopaddle.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Akeakamai pressing the NO paddle </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtjlCxX7-5LBbtP0vFOqwl0TrnxRdyr1fvdHwtUDiNk3LloaAjH5LrNY0376txfYTAU3NU9MaANRtxFTO-4HWCd81rz3CxyRBov837fDXAGY51MoYIDhSsJ8MDnfmgrgccdA6ENYpny0N/s1600/akeyespaddle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtjlCxX7-5LBbtP0vFOqwl0TrnxRdyr1fvdHwtUDiNk3LloaAjH5LrNY0376txfYTAU3NU9MaANRtxFTO-4HWCd81rz3CxyRBov837fDXAGY51MoYIDhSsJ8MDnfmgrgccdA6ENYpny0N/s1600/akeyespaddle.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Akeakamai pressing the YES paddle</td></tr>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So what did this work demonstrate? First, it showed the dolphins capable of learning a grammar. This is a key component of human language. It also demonstrated that dolphins understood syntax, or the idea that if you change the order of words in a sentence, it affects the meaning. For example, HOOP + PERSON + FETCH (bring the person to the hoop) was different than PERSON + HOOP + FETCH (bring the hoop to the person).</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It also demonstrated that the dolphins were capable of understanding the semantics of the language, or that the hand gestures served as symbols representing the actual objects. In the same way that I can type the word, “apple”, and you immediately know what that is, the dolphins saw the hand signs as symbolic representations of the objects.</span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">All of these findings sparked significant worldwide attention when they were first published in 1984. At that time, language comprehension was something only demonstrated in humans and possibly some great apes. Lou and his team were certainly well on their way to changing the way people viewed cetaceans, and I was beyond inspired and wanted to find a way to get involved.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOwEbe73xMl8Q5y1N0h9JzLvnE0Re20yv4BMY9QWZLSW6bYMZtEQ1-XDDDclrAtl6wqF0VXn05Guu_cL2V53i5dFfHX1FPmJdfy1BTfXwkV5xt6rY9y6xqblTUQZDvymtfGrLYxaJPN18/s1600/elelehiapo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOwEbe73xMl8Q5y1N0h9JzLvnE0Re20yv4BMY9QWZLSW6bYMZtEQ1-XDDDclrAtl6wqF0VXn05Guu_cL2V53i5dFfHX1FPmJdfy1BTfXwkV5xt6rY9y6xqblTUQZDvymtfGrLYxaJPN18/s320/elelehiapo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elele and Hiapo</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The following year, I applied for and was accepted into KBMML’s dolphin internship program. I traveled to the lab for my six-month internship in August of 1995.</span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Arriving at KBMML was a dream come true. And the facility was beautiful. KBMML was located oceanside, nestled between scenic Ala Moana Beach Park and the Kewalo Basin Small Boat Harbor. Inside was the dolphin habitat, which consisted of two large circular pools connected by a channel. Also onsite were two offices, a conference room, and two elevated decks (or lanai) that served as observation towers. The observation towers allowed for excellent views of the dolphin habitats as well as the beach park and the ocean. Diamond Head crater sat spectacularly in view to the East.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6gxNISfBzB24omiwmypGBDCwP8m3pA7DLoUJlZdo5-fGjFK-lGk-1flTfZaRI8THdDG4VZQPO_ra5ek5XCATnVOa3u2H9HBYYKlHeDgl_GH3HsLUZ3bjFDXZVyx00EIE22hBHKp4wtjus/s1600/KBMMLview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6gxNISfBzB24omiwmypGBDCwP8m3pA7DLoUJlZdo5-fGjFK-lGk-1flTfZaRI8THdDG4VZQPO_ra5ek5XCATnVOa3u2H9HBYYKlHeDgl_GH3HsLUZ3bjFDXZVyx00EIE22hBHKp4wtjus/s320/KBMMLview.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kewalo Basin Marine Mammal Laboratory</td></tr>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On my first day, I was led inside by intern coordinator Krista, and straight up to the observation deck to watch a session with the dolphins. I was in awe. Here were the accomplished dolphins I read about in so many scientific papers! Akeakamai, Phoenix, Hiapo, and Elele. I couldn’t wait to meet them and assist with the amazing research.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After the session, with happy tears in my eyes, I went to the offices and met Lou for the first time. He was welcoming and kind. He introduced me to graduate student Robert Uyeyama, who would be my mentor for the internship. Robert explained that he was working on language research with Elele. He was further breaking down her language into more specific actions, and explained that I would be helping him on this project. I was blown away. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdrOaLSt2rE9_K9fKoAUG4CYJekX3Eif6kuHaJnlbQZ-i0eqXjhn9FroTH-Gp6k4oHUUUNdJBlePHyO0ZNJpzGBO4vSU7P-azCspDurRJeeNS6hIoDH5ZpJGt6HeT7gXAneM57CdiyrfAP/s1600/robertuyeyama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdrOaLSt2rE9_K9fKoAUG4CYJekX3Eif6kuHaJnlbQZ-i0eqXjhn9FroTH-Gp6k4oHUUUNdJBlePHyO0ZNJpzGBO4vSU7P-azCspDurRJeeNS6hIoDH5ZpJGt6HeT7gXAneM57CdiyrfAP/s320/robertuyeyama.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Graduate student (now PhD) Robert Uyeyama</td></tr>
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<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next day, I had the chance to watch Akeakamai do the language research. This is a moment I will never forget as long as I live. Seeing it on paper was one thing. But seeing clever Ake (ah-Kay, as she was affectionately called) carrying out her sentences with confidence was breathtaking. Ake’s trainer for this session was Dr. Adam Pack, Lou’s Research Coordinator and KBMML’s Assistant Director. Watching him give the signs and seeing Ake carry out the instructions contained within the sentences was an incredible experience.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz48hJ3TvttPEu-rwavHJAGHx9rGG7WiVy1NVVUn2z0GdtVZYRKrfesOmXCxP8U_ma4jf2sAhAEZW_N1Mx45kAVbE-P5DbPGDitaIRsMKnIvWN1NQnpexm57y_9kxDOw1wFd94MOve1f_o/s1600/adamelele.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz48hJ3TvttPEu-rwavHJAGHx9rGG7WiVy1NVVUn2z0GdtVZYRKrfesOmXCxP8U_ma4jf2sAhAEZW_N1Mx45kAVbE-P5DbPGDitaIRsMKnIvWN1NQnpexm57y_9kxDOw1wFd94MOve1f_o/s320/adamelele.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dr. Adam Pack</td></tr>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Working with Lou, Adam, Robert, and the team was a life changing experience. Upon completion of my internship, I returned home to finish my junior year of college. The summer before my senior year, I returned to the amazing Dolphin Research Center, which also held a special place in my heart, for a second internship there.</span></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I graduated with a B.A. in Psychology in June of 1997, and decided to return to KBMML to volunteer in hopes that I could find a way in there. Luckily, I did! Lou welcomed me as a member of his staff, where I remained for more than ten years, until the end of 2007. My responsibilities included training and caring for the four resident dolphins, creating interactive educational programs for Hawaii’s school children and community groups, and assisting with the research. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtkE4LekvhKFbmglz4kSEtpRnGgMikMfXtx06KvM7c6GIShYkPtHaeupuyoXVGy3oddRBiKGxEx7xpCCv2vvsFmu8slsB4_nI0MGvOwNO8s7bF895IxpWFtwpK5h2tXJjQwloJ8kHxN3j/s1600/childmeetsake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtkE4LekvhKFbmglz4kSEtpRnGgMikMfXtx06KvM7c6GIShYkPtHaeupuyoXVGy3oddRBiKGxEx7xpCCv2vvsFmu8slsB4_nI0MGvOwNO8s7bF895IxpWFtwpK5h2tXJjQwloJ8kHxN3j/s320/childmeetsake.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ake meets Hawaii's keiki (children)</td></tr>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">One of my favorite moments at the lab was the first day Lou allowed me to sign Ake’s sentences during her language research. I distinctly remember Lou coaching me in the specifics of each of the motions, and making corrections that would help make the words more clear for Ake. He was particular about this as Ake was his dear, star pupil. Standing in front of my beloved Ake and doing language research with her for the first time was a particularly emotional moment for me. Though I probably did it hundreds of times after that, each time was always very special.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgatBkBJ_s1goP8fM04AuHrjNFgfOoB0zoXNbAsilTkt3wg02U5MLyVSrqLBub0tLUmDBhXusLmb6eE2rJkdj8ACF64LJedYZco12XygXqiXjraIU_jOFRK7H6eEpjXMidkBT8fOEipb6EB/s1600/payattention.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgatBkBJ_s1goP8fM04AuHrjNFgfOoB0zoXNbAsilTkt3wg02U5MLyVSrqLBub0tLUmDBhXusLmb6eE2rJkdj8ACF64LJedYZco12XygXqiXjraIU_jOFRK7H6eEpjXMidkBT8fOEipb6EB/s1600/payattention.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PAY ATTENTION</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjktzZ3Z8FnkbrEHmsqeHhnPFeiAhlWx_INMpEn6pjoRA1qhDQw3kF8AJvhwgiUTRbqx8XI9jqCmtpGJrptxkkTxj9q6-obO4urFoN9CuiJxCc-Bas1TVRodHZd2v4RPylk-GLzGeLFEI_k/s1600/RIGHT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjktzZ3Z8FnkbrEHmsqeHhnPFeiAhlWx_INMpEn6pjoRA1qhDQw3kF8AJvhwgiUTRbqx8XI9jqCmtpGJrptxkkTxj9q6-obO4urFoN9CuiJxCc-Bas1TVRodHZd2v4RPylk-GLzGeLFEI_k/s1600/RIGHT.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RIGHT</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXswrvhRT09ZufXPzdySsgVWTI9TNWWmYYnXSVCg5Yqkhov9BkqJDAhbypKNBxL8lyiiueFL501_WmV4Hl9Z8jaBUB-TB7j0RB1yrfvh_GzJ09pJPIOss9H7XLeLuNZOHQCH3nI47U8eY/s1600/HOOP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXswrvhRT09ZufXPzdySsgVWTI9TNWWmYYnXSVCg5Yqkhov9BkqJDAhbypKNBxL8lyiiueFL501_WmV4Hl9Z8jaBUB-TB7j0RB1yrfvh_GzJ09pJPIOss9H7XLeLuNZOHQCH3nI47U8eY/s1600/HOOP.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HOOP</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2RbjkbIwBAJ8cqdAEOBBC6CSSLc-SiWKnNhEH0OJ0NNYyWcpyOZb4m-Fbc1Z8o_QW4yq0B0s17A1gMQt9urZYdRJKvOTZHkpPNeuD8i3nEZRYBozfUYJQBJ9LLYICZbNKTW-oeAt5XSg/s1600/SPIT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2RbjkbIwBAJ8cqdAEOBBC6CSSLc-SiWKnNhEH0OJ0NNYyWcpyOZb4m-Fbc1Z8o_QW4yq0B0s17A1gMQt9urZYdRJKvOTZHkpPNeuD8i3nEZRYBozfUYJQBJ9LLYICZbNKTW-oeAt5XSg/s1600/SPIT.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SPIT</td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Forming relationships with Lou’s highly educated dolphins was such an honor. Each of the dolphins holds a special place in my heart, though the one who taught me the most and touched me most profoundly was Akeakamai. She taught me so much about her kind, and about being the best trainer I could be. She influenced me and inspired me each day in countless ways.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLW8zMmUDVXnvc0mgJu4xJFYZiIgza0A-zj-asLOrwCTqu1zWshXFCFINRs7GdN7Dvv6yTJU0Sso-xLAGVkL6_6VXdSBGRX-7h1PWb03sabNPonZQeJ93CdC8Mrm6TDVIJHAWHXgMK0xD9/s1600/susieakehug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLW8zMmUDVXnvc0mgJu4xJFYZiIgza0A-zj-asLOrwCTqu1zWshXFCFINRs7GdN7Dvv6yTJU0Sso-xLAGVkL6_6VXdSBGRX-7h1PWb03sabNPonZQeJ93CdC8Mrm6TDVIJHAWHXgMK0xD9/s320/susieakehug.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dear friend Akeakamai</td></tr>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Equally as important as the dolphins were the incredible team of people Lou attracted to KBMML throughout the years. KBMML was a special workplace for countless researchers, graduate students, staff members, interns, and volunteers. Under Lou’s tutelage, many of these talented people went on to illustrious careers of their own in marine mammal science, in veterinary medicine, or in animal care and training.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVYVJqI4mbst2Dy-zmtiJNlE0dF6MwokInf-u2S48VN9MWTLuTFxnctd6u1ROcJ2FwL-znLVAmCxymkQgYS75JGxogJSWR5gYR3NW5t-cj2RboG1qaDjJGgASVudZ4kq9ogxtQRhcXExNJ/s1600/KBMMLteam1998.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVYVJqI4mbst2Dy-zmtiJNlE0dF6MwokInf-u2S48VN9MWTLuTFxnctd6u1ROcJ2FwL-znLVAmCxymkQgYS75JGxogJSWR5gYR3NW5t-cj2RboG1qaDjJGgASVudZ4kq9ogxtQRhcXExNJ/s400/KBMMLteam1998.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KBMML team, 1998</td></tr>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sadly, KBMML and the dolphins are gone now, but the spirit of this special place lives on through the scientific papers, documentaries, and stories. What they taught us now guides generations of new researchers throughout the world to continue learning about dolphin cognition and communication.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMIW1EAViVONHEJ3eluh6h12XeBt4a9n2wps9FI3MsO-f_dXC9X0U8bkt5WGyYpirCoalKOkyUSY46lcW93XS_Rp4zgTKV9DHm7rN6xCuXR2gbuIklYPkGLA3Zm4VtWmg-V4YhWhD0igZ/s1600/phoeakeleap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMIW1EAViVONHEJ3eluh6h12XeBt4a9n2wps9FI3MsO-f_dXC9X0U8bkt5WGyYpirCoalKOkyUSY46lcW93XS_Rp4zgTKV9DHm7rN6xCuXR2gbuIklYPkGLA3Zm4VtWmg-V4YhWhD0igZ/s320/phoeakeleap.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phoenix and Akeakamai</td></tr>
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<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Almost four years ago, I returned to the marine mammal field. I now work as a Senior Marine Mammal Trainer at the National Aquarium. My experiences as a trainer at KBMML certainly shaped who I am as a dolphin trainer today. They also helped me find my voice in sharing these very special animals with others, whether guests at our aquarium, professionals or aspiring professionals within our industry, or people outside our field.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was particularly special to discover Lou’s influence on many of the people with whom I now work. Last year, I went to Hawaii to give a talk at a career celebration in honor of Lou. I was one of many speakers at this event, attended by more than 40 people whose lives were positively impacted by their experiences with Lou and KBMML over the decades. It was set up as a surprise for Lou, and was he ever touched and surprised to see so many old friends.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My own talk mentioned how Lou’s work influenced people far and wide, including several people working with me at the National Aquarium. I then shared quotes from these individuals, sharing how Lou influenced them. These are listed below.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMB3Icluh0bVrFle4i9d_nOm-jv5zXn2QlL-fPVshY-LwFnUZiZP2xOUycZZHxa28E-iysueyq_rojCpbbZM8R_KieDyTHdBGNKCgmIrVYz4O58c7mfFn5XMywuXpesmCD2yF2v9sX6dHZ/s1600/allisonake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMB3Icluh0bVrFle4i9d_nOm-jv5zXn2QlL-fPVshY-LwFnUZiZP2xOUycZZHxa28E-iysueyq_rojCpbbZM8R_KieDyTHdBGNKCgmIrVYz4O58c7mfFn5XMywuXpesmCD2yF2v9sX6dHZ/s320/allisonake.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Allison Ginsburg (curator of marine mammals at National Aquarium) meets Akeakamai, 1992</td></tr>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"My father knew how much I loved dolphins, so he helped me find an opportunity to work alongside them in the summer after I graduated high school. We found the Kewalo Basin Marine Mammal Laboratory Earthwatch program and I signed up.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This experience changed the course of my life. Dr. Herman and his team instilled in me a deep appreciation for the cognitive capabilities of dolphins, and my time at his lab confirmed my desire to work in the marine mammal field.</span></span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Over twenty years later, I am still extremely passionate about my career with marine mammals. At the National Aquarium, I dedicate myself to leading our marine mammal team and to supporting scientists interested in discovering more about the dolphins. Dr. Herman and his dolphins absolutely inspired me in a big way."</span></span></blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlLKhBOKXDV9caGley-_ywqfWEIEifDFEutqy6Wzvf6LKh3uO9ktAHZAPSUbNFAlUmlZrg3LyMo8luMj8FnubDlR72Omob9o3HUThFYh49rJd203SwN_WmAMkJ7jO_4ue94zH8X6YFeFX/s1600/sarahcarter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlLKhBOKXDV9caGley-_ywqfWEIEifDFEutqy6Wzvf6LKh3uO9ktAHZAPSUbNFAlUmlZrg3LyMo8luMj8FnubDlR72Omob9o3HUThFYh49rJd203SwN_WmAMkJ7jO_4ue94zH8X6YFeFX/s320/sarahcarter.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarah Carter, spring intern at National Aquarium 2015</td></tr>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"In my Sophomore year of college at Towson University, I took a seminar-type class called 'A Seminar in Ecology, Evolution, and Behavior.' The class was once a week, and every week one student got to pick a groundbreaking research article to present to the class and lead a discussion on the paper. I have loved marine mammals since I was very young, and so I knew early on I was going to choose a paper on marine mammals. When it was finally my turn, I started researching marine mammal cognition, and stumbled upon Lou Herman. </span></span> </blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I presented Herman's 1984 paper called 'Comprehension of sentences by bottlenose dolphins' and I was just completely blown away by his research. It was this research that inspired me to pursue my dream of animal behavior and cognition. Since then, I have kept up with Lou Herman's research and have read every paper I can get my hands on!</span></span></blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOaaem_jE_aVA3ZYc1TbUNRgmOhcy-q3lhHnWa9yvF6ryuiMBRYPgskmDYJa6L0FtmHXkCjJO_PJXmuSyNx3OdhtpmdCJB0vC5rYhUYikRwoOO0uCKpmkRRVU6ipb57X7XAAGX9XUNEIN/s1600/turners.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOaaem_jE_aVA3ZYc1TbUNRgmOhcy-q3lhHnWa9yvF6ryuiMBRYPgskmDYJa6L0FtmHXkCjJO_PJXmuSyNx3OdhtpmdCJB0vC5rYhUYikRwoOO0uCKpmkRRVU6ipb57X7XAAGX9XUNEIN/s320/turners.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dr. Mark and Cindy Turner, marine mammal researchers</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"It is well recognized that Louis Herman’s research is of the highest scientific quality. But beyond this, his unique approach has delighted and surprised us. We have been influenced by its creativity, imagination and originality, inspiring us to explore ideas we otherwise would not have considered. This is the best kind of science. Thank you, Dr. Herman."</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And one quote by a dear friend who isn’t affiliated with National Aquarium but who worked with me at KBMML for years and whose career resulted from her experiences with Lou at KBMML:</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwEuRQFj6TXsZ5LUPQw65CUL7fMN4N9SYtsbp5alVqVAcBJQ99QhYnOF26cNVeLS3LHuTWO6xJA4lImBFGDFUpNIeQ0zzWWfrqVftDhMGPTKSYqdeIukayL_rsr0BeaAiHZ83QkcpKSbFL/s1600/daisydolphin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwEuRQFj6TXsZ5LUPQw65CUL7fMN4N9SYtsbp5alVqVAcBJQ99QhYnOF26cNVeLS3LHuTWO6xJA4lImBFGDFUpNIeQ0zzWWfrqVftDhMGPTKSYqdeIukayL_rsr0BeaAiHZ83QkcpKSbFL/s320/daisydolphin.jpg" width="303" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dr. Daisy Kaplan, St. Mary's College of MD, KBMML/TDI volunteer 1999-2002, studying dolphins in the Bahamas</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Last year, I finished my Ph.D. in biopsychology and behavioral neuroscience from Hunter College of CUNY – my thesis work centered on dolphin behavior. </span></span><b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I’ve been running a long-term field study of wild bottlenose and spotted dolphins in the Bahamas since 2002. I am published, and am also a reviewer for several peer-reviewed journals. All of the steps that led me here were because of the experience I gained while at KBMML. </span></span> </blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After four years at KBMML, I applied for, got in to, and completed a Master’s program in Biology. I did not intend to get my Ph.D., but three people convinced me to go back. One of these three people was Lou Herman. Lou cornered me at a wedding and began the conversation with, “I have a tip for you.” He convinced me to apply to the Ph.D. program at Hunter College of CUNY, working with Dr. Diana Reiss. </span></span> </blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I successfully defended my Ph.D. thesis in May.</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My career goal is in education. I have been teaching college courses for over eight years. Some of these courses touch on comparative cognition and communication. One of the topics is whether non-human animals have any components of language. Nothing demonstrates this better than a video of Akeakamai’s language study. When the topic is sensation and perception (or echolocation), I present Elele’s cross-modal studies. I also do outreach at various schools. Through the videos and the stories, the KBMML dolphins and Lou’s research continue to amaze and educate."</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I truly believe Lou is responsible for changing the way the world thinks about cetaceans. His research findings resulted in both a tremendous interest in cetacean conservation and a push for change in the laws that protect them. Without some of Lou's findings, I wholeheartedly believe whales and dolphins would not have the protection they enjoy today.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I feel so lucky to have worked with Lou for so many years. Lou taught me so much about being a voice for dolphins and whales. He allowed me to work with and learn from his beloved dolphins. He inspired me to make a difference, and he helped me discover my own unique path for doing so.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSdGM4g3eZJ834qyAGg8GLj4UmlykFYRktcNT7xRdNdmHgC9pgA0T6jeYGmycOUCFmLTMpReKtg2wAC1bDSpBK8PAuyu_-vX25MFhmrJ5sY2yCk0OkuA0gvn3Uz26GrU1kfxzL2U9QMfeR/s1600/susieakeunderwater.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSdGM4g3eZJ834qyAGg8GLj4UmlykFYRktcNT7xRdNdmHgC9pgA0T6jeYGmycOUCFmLTMpReKtg2wAC1bDSpBK8PAuyu_-vX25MFhmrJ5sY2yCk0OkuA0gvn3Uz26GrU1kfxzL2U9QMfeR/s320/susieakeunderwater.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Akeakamai</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Lou was so much more than a scientist. He was also a gifted teacher, leader, mentor, and friend. He was open-minded and true. I feel so honored to have worked with him, been inspired by him, and to have known him. He always accepted me for who I was, and had a kind smile I cannot express enough just how much Lou’s leadership, mentoring, and friendship meant to me over the past 21 years.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBj37HlgJKS0So7zebSokbsiWQnoojyXQmKU4chrwfjFQz5twu4LOVdYldMxbXtZ1_cg-ilsvkfeAPANeUYUoLaInI2YYyb9WDQNFTOQMwJowu9c-603hW9Oelv_V-1Gmp_eRNj5njGyaP/s1600/LouSusie19952015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBj37HlgJKS0So7zebSokbsiWQnoojyXQmKU4chrwfjFQz5twu4LOVdYldMxbXtZ1_cg-ilsvkfeAPANeUYUoLaInI2YYyb9WDQNFTOQMwJowu9c-603hW9Oelv_V-1Gmp_eRNj5njGyaP/s320/LouSusie19952015.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Lou in 1995, and 20 years later in 2015</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My heart aches that I will never see and speak with Lou again, but I know his legacy lives on in all those whose lives he touched over the years. Mahalo nui loa (thank you very much), Lou, for everything. Me ke aloha pumehana (with lots of love).</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">KBMML as seen from Ala Moana Beach</td></tr>
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Cathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14308864896529062835noreply@blogger.com3