African officials have declared the Western Black Rhinoceros extinct. It’s a loss of devastating proportion, cementing–if there was ever any doubt–just how poorly humans are managing the environment and jeopardizing the future of creatures who have been here much longer than us.

Throughout history, species come and go. One day (soon?), humans will also go the way of the dinosaur, the saber-toothed tiger, the black rhinoceros. But now, as we are quite consciously participating in our existence and our evolution, we have the ability to prevent the loss of species. Or, at least, that’s how it seems. Could we have done more to preserve a creature as awe inspiring as the rhino?

Nearly two decades ago, I spent time with two baby black rhinoceroses. It changed my perception of captivity and nature.

In the summer of 1996 I took a job working at the Pittsburgh Zoo. I was managing the children’s zoo staff. About 80 high school kids held posts in the goat, deer and kangaroo yards as well as several animal-themed rides and slides. It was hard work. We swept up a lot of animal poop and made sure kids didn’t hurl themselves off of the rides in a way that would ruin their day.

During my lunch breaks, I’d stroll the zoo grounds marveling at the many creatures. I had spent a lot of time at the zoo growing up. Chuckles the porpoise was an old friend. The llamas and I went way back. The elephants seemed to know me, too. I loved everything about the zoo (except for most of the humans). The smells didn’t bother me. The poop was endearing. I didn’t mind the hours or working on holidays. After all, I got to spend time with some of the most adorable, ferocious and unique creatures on the planet. I’d get to give lions giant bones on Sundays. I still have a tiger whisker and an ostrich feather that would have otherwise been swept up into the trash.

After a time, I applied for an internship, in hopes of one day becoming a zookeeper myself. Maybe I’d wind up like Jane Goodall out in some conservation effort deep in a jungle. Even though I was a vegetarian, the sad, captive nature of the zoo hadn’t quite dawned on me yet. All I saw was the natural curiosity of the many species. I believed the hype that zoos were special places helping to successfully breed endangered species. It’s not like they were purely for entertainment, right?  They served a function: to educate the community about the animal kingdom. In fact, it was the many summers I spent strolling through the zoo with my family that I credit for turning me towards vegetarianism in the first place. How could I eat someone who had a face, regardless of what species it was?

Both my boyfriend and I received internship offers in the big cat and rhino department. We couldn’t have been more thrilled. We were going to work face to face with lions, tigers and two baby black rhinos soon to arrive to replace the white rhinos heading to China. (Those rhinos were killed, sadly.)

The absurd nature of zoo life hit us quickly. The very first day our internship began, we were present for the euthanizing of a Siberian tiger riddled with cancer. She was a longtime resident who had even given birth there. Animals don’t get cancer in nature. Not like that, anyway.

But my main focus would be helping with the baby rhinos—a boy and a girl. If my memory serves me, their names were Jomo and Misha. One of them had been rejected by their mother, which is a common occurrence, particularly in zoo settings. They were both young—but by no means less than gigantic. As adults, black rhinos can weigh 3,000 pounds or more. These “babies” were tipping the 1,000-pound mark before their first birthday.

Baby mammals require milk. Most of my time was spent cooking up a concoction supposed to resemble rhino milk. It was a mix of cow milk, water, sugar and vitamins, heated up so it would be nice and warm. It gave the babies massive rhino diarrhea, which I’d spend most of the rest of my time cleaning up. Rivers of green sludge filled their tiny indoor quarters, which were about the size of my living room now. Sometimes I feel penned up in my own house. I can’t imagine what I’d feel like if all the space I had amounted to the size of a closet.

Once all the rhino poop was cleaned up, we had another task: coaxing the animals into their exhibit area. These were babies. Babies scared of venturing a few feet outdoors even though it was a much bigger area than their pens. We’d climb up onto the fake anthill in the exhibit and do our best to encourage them to come outside. They’d step slowly, squeaking and squealing like babies. It was adorable and sad. These beautiful, motherless creatures were nothing more than giant horned puppies taken from their mothers too soon.

Now, the only black rhinos on the planet exist in captivity. Their once massive sprawl of land has been replaced by cement and metal enclosures. The natural vegetation that made up their diets is now just piles of crunchy hay, day after day. Or, in the case of orphaned newborns, a milk soup that comes nowhere close to the real thing.

One of my most memorable experiences with the rhinos was on Christmas morning. It’s the only day of the year the zoo is closed to guests. The quiet is eerie and refreshing. We cooked up the giant bottles of faux rhino milk and brought them down to the cages where the babies squealed in anticipation for food that was only going to make them sick. The black rhinoceros has a prehensile lip—kind of like a very small elephant trunk. It can pull in food, and on this occasion, the baby girl pulled my hand into her mouth and began to suck with the pressure of an industrial vice grip. If my hand was crushed beyond repair, I wouldn’t have been surprised. She mistook me for her bottle, for her mother, and as she realized I offered no sustenance, she gently released my hand and rooted in search of the bottle.

Working face to face with some of the planet’s most magnificent species pushed me towards avoiding zoos and captive animal situations for good. And now, as one of our most beloved wild animals exists only in zoos, it brings up a whole host of questions: Should we support captivity? Aren’t these animals vastly different than those who’ve never seen a cage? Should we try breeding programs and encourage efforts to attempt reintroduction to the wild? Or should we simply accept that from now on, they live only in captivity?

How strange it is that we can wander into a zoo and see an animal who was once a representative for his wild cousins now a representative for extinction, for time passed, and a future Earth that is surely going to be a much different place.

Keep in touch with Jill on Twitter @jillettinger

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Images: 25kim (top), Jill Ettinger

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There’s no question that dolphins are intelligent and emotional creatures. Dolphins in India no longer have to perform as it’s now the largest country in the world to ban dolphin shows that keep these majestic creatures in captivity.

Scientist recently discovered that highly intelligent dolphins recognize each other in a similar way to how we humans know each other’s names. Many people consider dolphins to be “non-human persons,” and the country of India now makes this distinction as well. India’s Ministry of the Environment and Forests said in a statement, “Whereas cetaceans in general are highly intelligent and sensitive, and various scientists who have researched dolphin behavior have suggested that the unusually high intelligence; as compared to other animals means that dolphin should be seen as ‘non-human persons’ and as such should have their own specific rights and is morally unacceptable to keep them captive for entertainment purpose.”

The ban on performing dolphins in India prevents “any person / persons, organizations, government agencies, private or public enterprises that involves import, capture of cetacean species to establish for commercial entertainment, private or public exhibition and interaction purposes whatsoever.” India is now the world’s largest nation to ban dolphin shows (Costa Rica, Hungary, and Chile are others).

Ric O’Barry, who was featured in the gripping Academy-award nominated documentary The Cove about dolphin slaughter in Japan, called the decision a “huge victory” for dolphins. “Not only has the Indian government spoken out against cruelty, they have contributed to an emerging and vital dialogue about the ways we think about dolphins – as thinking, feeling beings rather than pieces of property to make money off of.” O’Barry rose to stardom for his role in the 1960s television show Flipper, which featured captured and trained dolphins, and ultimately led to the world’s fixation with captive dolphins. O’Barry has since become a staunch advocate for dolphins’ rights.

But dolphin captivity persists, and Americans in particular, buy into the illusion, supporting Sea World and other organizations that make it appear as though a well-trained dolphin is a happy one. “Training of dolphins is often deliberately misrepresented by the captive dolphin industry to make it look as if dolphins perform because they like it. This isn’t the case. They are performing because they have been deprived of food,” cites O’Barry’s Dolphin Project website. “Most captive dolphins are confined in minuscule tanks containing chemically treated artificial seawater. Dolphins in a tank are severely restricted in using their highly developed sonar, which is one of the most damaging aspects of captivity. It is much like forcing a person to live in a hall of mirrors for the rest of their life – their image always bouncing back with no clear direction in sight.” Add to this the horrors of being captured from the wild, enduring traumatic transport, and being forced to perform over and over again, day after day.

Still, for many, seeing animals in zoos, aquariums or circuses can become a driving force in one’s love for all kinds of animals. As a child, I was particularly fond of Chuckles, an Amazon river dolphin who lived in a tiny tank at the Pittsburgh Zoo for more than 30 years. (He was the longest living dolphin in captivity, outliving the closest competitor by 16 years.) Chuckles seemed to smile as he’d bounce a ball out into the wandering crowds of curious kids, anxious for one of them to bounce it back to him in his shallow pool.

I couldn’t help but feel like this creature was my friend, even though our worlds were so completely different. There was something in his eyes. I felt like he recognized me every time I visited him. Maybe he held my gaze a bit longer. Or maybe it was that perpetual dolphin smile that we so often can’t see past. He was a friend I wanted to visit as often as possible; but I knew he was also clearly a prisoner, forced to live in an unnatural environment (as Pittsburgh certainly is to most creatures—the aquatic or writer kind). It was painful to see him there. And confusing, more than anything else.

It’s not surprising that India, which also boasts the world’s largest vegetarian population, has taken this crucial step in banning dolphin exploitation. It’s a move towards a more compassionate world. And a world that’s more compassionate to animals, is one that’s also more compassionate to humans, too, hopefully.

Still, I also can’t help but wonder whether I would have become an advocate for animals, and a vegan, had I not spent so much time at the zoo growing up. (I would eventually even have an internship there working with rhinos, big cats, bears and more.) There are few things more wonderful to a child than observing the world’s other funny-looking creatures, particularly when they also interact with you, like Chuckles did.

But we can observe these animals in their more natural environments. We can support sanctuaries that rescue animals and are often open to the public for viewing and interaction. We can find the magic in those “ordinary” creatures most likely in our yards and neighborhoods right now like squirrels, skunks, raccoons, birds, possums, frogs, lizards, coyotes.

If we’re just now discovering that dolphins have intelligence and communication abilities on par with humans, what else don’t we know about them? Or pigs? Or ducks? Or turtles for that matter? Has the time finally come when we will recognize the sovereignty of all creatures? Or will we keep justifying captive wild animals as a means of avoiding the bigger, more egregious issues surrounding the billions and billions of animals kept in captivity that we eat every year?

Keep in touch with Jill on Twitter @jillettinger

Image: M. Martin Vicente

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