MY EXTRAORDINARY JOB AT THE SAN DIEGO ZOO
Having worked with so many animal species, at a number of different venues over the years, it's no surprise that I've accumulated countless stories of hands-on experiences that make me smile when I recall them. That's not to say that I haven't seen my share of sadness, neglect and abuse in my travels around the animal world, but those memories reside in a part of my brain that I don't visit nearly as much these days. I'm too focused on helping unfortunate creatures in today's society. There's no time to live in the past.
One of the hundreds of great memories from my two years as a Mammal Keeper at the San Diego Zoo happened in the first four days on the job. I had finished my second tour of duty with the Budweiser Clydesdales at Sea World only weeks before and was hired as a keeper out of several hundred applicants. Having never worked with an exotic animal in my life, I was at a loss to explain how that actually happened, but was thrilled for the opportunity none-the-less. I suspected that some of the senior keepers were probably wondering the same thing. What is this horse guy doing at one of the greatest Zoos known to mankind? Couldn't blame anyone for questioning my abilities and I knew I'd have to prove myself in a fairly short time. But how?
Little did I know that I was about to receive a bit of help with that problem from a 120-pound Russian Sheep. I had spent the morning of my fourth day shadowing several keepers on their strings when the animal escape code crackled loudly over our radios. Instantly, twenty-five keepers mobilized, grabbed the equipment they knew they would need, and ran to the area of the zoo where the escape occurred. I was right there, running with them.
When we arrived, the previously mentioned sheep was nervously standing under a tree in a grassy area at the corner of two fences. Everyone immediately formed a large half-circle around the animal, with our shoulders inches apart. Very slowly, we began to walk forward, trying not to frighten the escapee, but tightening the circle to reduce his movement. With nowhere to go but through us, our four-legged friend ran back and forth several more times, then decided to go over us, as most sheep and goat species have tremendous jumping abilities.
Now, with 25 keepers standing in that formation, he could have tried launching at any one of us. But on that particular morning, he chose me. And I was ready for him. I just didn't know it until he was in the air. His flight carried him a few inches above my head and slightly to my right. Acting on what can only be described as equal amounts of instinct and luck. I turned slightly, reached up with both arms, and caught him in mid-air like a 120 lb. football. The momentum of his power and weight carried both of us to the ground, but I held on and was able to make sure his legs were under him as we landed. Four keepers immediately covered my body with theirs' and we stayed put until our captive could be restrained safely and crated for the trip back to his regular surroundings.
The warm and friendly congratulations that I received that day from people I hardly knew but respected greatly is something I will never forget. It gave me the credibility I needed to begin building a reputation as a hard-working, reliable keeper that others could count on in a difficult or dangerous situation. It was also the first of many incredible adventures that I encountered in my two years at the San Diego Zoo, quite possibly the best job I've ever had. And it all started with that wide-eyed Russian ruminant.
AMAZING!
by Steve Hanssen
