Wood Storks

Wood storks have become a sort of seasonal exhibit at the Jacksonville Zoo.  They come in on their own, the zoo does not own or have on loan a single one of these endangered birds.  Each spring, the wood storks return to the same nesting trees as the year before (just the same trees, not the same wood storks).  Last year, I was able to catch them but only after the babies had hatched. And you’ll know when the babies have hatched because it gets really, really loud! Hungry baby birds make a tremendous amount of noise.

mom & baby wood stork from 2011

The success of a nesting season depends primarily on the drought/flood conditions of the region and on the availability of an ample food supply, which are the exact reasons why wood storks are on the endangered species list.  They have been classified as such by the US Fish & Wildlife Service since 1984, just a few years after acknowledging only 3,000 to 5,000 breeding pairs remained in the wild. That number has since climbed to an estimated 10,000 breeding pairs.

this year's nests

The Jacksonville Zoo’s wood stork rookery is the most successful one in the southeast. A few years ago, the rookery almost lost a considerable amount of its nesting area due to repeated lightning strikes but it was able to recover. Wood storks do not return to the same nesting sites as a part of their instinctual nature, although many of the same breeding pairs have continued to come back to the Jacksonville Zoo.

adult wood stork (its wing span is larger than ME!)

The Duval Audubon Society is looking for volunteers to help monitor the wood storks during this year’s nesting season. If you’re able to spare a couple of hours on a Saturday, contact the DAS and let them know!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

This morning, I dressed myself down in my Friday worst and headed out to the Catty Shack Ranch to do some volunteer work.  Armed with a dull machete and as much muscle as my tiny 100-pound frame could muster, I heaved and pulled enough bamboo roots out of the ground to fill a wheelbarrow. While I dug my hands into the footpaths where visitors walk to see our big rescue cats, the cougars took an interest in me from only a few feet away.

There really is nothing too exciting to report here regarding the cougars and me – just a lot of staring…from both sides of the fence. But I’m telling you, there are few things more exhilarating (or should I say terrifying?) than to be going about your business weeding a perfectly cozy little garden and suddenly be interrupted by a ground rattling, earthshaking, rumbling giant tiger roar from only a hundred feet away.

As you can probably tell, I get nervous around these cats. Considering I was alone today in the back of the sanctuary, I couldn’t help but be hyper-aware of all kinds of noises. And I counted each big cat as I continued to work, I guess to convince myself on a constant basis that today is not the day one of these lions or panthers gets loose and eats you…no, not today.

The eeriest part came each time I walked past the black leopards. While one sat perched on its platform watching me with that googly I-want-to-eat-you look in its eyes, another one of the black leopards actually skulked down as low as possible to the ground and stalked me. The one on the platform eyeballing me reminded me so much of the GEICO rescue panther:

After a couple of hours working in the sun and fighting the mosquitos, I decided to take the long way around to the burn pile to dump my weeds and bamboo roots before heading home. Also, I wanted to get a good look at how my handiwork from last month was holding up to its new residents, the ones I couldn’t tell anyone about…

Meet our new bobcats!

Sheba - photo courtesy of Catty Shack Ranch

Van Gogh - photo courtesy of Catty Shack Ranch

Back in early February, I spent a good part of one morning volunteering at the Catty Shack Ranch with a fellow volunteer named Ron. Ron and I painted a newly assembled enclosure and the two of us became privy to some information about a couple of bobcats the Catty Shack was about to take in. At the time, not all of the staff and volunteers at the ranch knew about these two soon-to-be-acquired “re-homed”cats (they’re not considered rescues) so I wasn’t able to share the news.

Sheba and Van Gogh have been adjusting to their new home quite nicely for about a month now. While they were very well taken care of at their last home, an amusement park in South Georgia that is now undergoing some major renovations, there were some unexpected details about these two bobcats that left a few of us curious to see how they would react to being at the Catty Shack.

The first detail is that these beautiful cats had never before touched grass or bare earth with their feet.  Like I said, they have been cared for very well but their previous habitat was made of a cement floor, not bare earth. Sheba and Van Gogh had an incredible set of natural wood and rock platforms on which to climb and play and do all things bobcat, they just missed feeling the actual true ground.  From what one of our directors has said, the two bobcats took to the grass in their new enclosure very cautiously and seemed hesitant about the whole thing, but they’ve quickly adapted to their new home and seem to be happy and comfortable.

The second unexpected detail was about Van Gogh. He is missing an ear, just like Vincent Van Gogh, hence the name. He was brought to the Georgia park that way, with one ear missing but fully capable of being a bobcat – or, as well as a bobcat can be a bobcat in an enclosure.  He and Sheba have been together since day one and there was never a question of splitting them apart. Where one goes, so goes the other.

Foxy

Today was a lot of fun at the Catty Shack Ranch, despite the constant drizzle of rain that fell while we tried to work outside for over 2 hours.  A new enclosure near the coatimundis has been standing empty for quite a while and still needed to be prepped and painted. I met another volunteer named Ron and we went to work.  This time I was armed with my up-to-the-elbows gloves, but they weren’t needed.  Curt, the sanctuary’s director, had yet to retrieve the 4,000 (four-thousand!) pound haul of meat from a local donor. Instead, Curt stayed on the property to work on a few things until it was time for the pickup and this left Ron and me with lots of opportunities to learn more about the animals from him firsthand since it was just the three of us.

As Ron and I painted the chain link enclosure, I noticed a fairly unpleasant smell wafting in the air. There were parts of the space in which we were working that were damper than others and I assumed I had been lucky enough to end up in the “litterbox corner”.  I sucked it up, happy to have this story to tell (if it turned out to be true) of the morning I spent on my hands and knees in tiger urine.  In case you’re wondering, yes…I will grin stupidly from ear to ear if I ever find myself having stepped in a pile of tiger or lion poop.  Seriously! How many people can start of a story with This one time when I stepped in a heaping pile of tiger crap…?

I know of not one person! Yet…

Anyway, Curt swung around to check on our painting progress and to chat with us for a bit.  It turns out I was not, in fact, kneeling in urine-soaked sand. The most obvious reason the ground was wet is because it had been raining off and on all morning, but what about that smell? It was musky and pungent, but not nauseating. I still think my rendezvous last week with the raw chicken in 80-degree heat was even more offensive to my sense of smell.  So I asked the guy who would know – I asked Curt!

It turned out to be the arctic foxes.  A pair of them is housed directly across from where Ron and I were working. I’ve researched this a little bit more and it seems most foxes do not have a heavy scent to them usually. Only the red fox and the arctic fox have a musky sweaty smell and a skunk-like scent to their urine.  I have to wonder how some people could even consider them to be good pets.  I mean, smell one of them and it’ll change your mind lickety-split. Yipes.

beautiful, sleeping arctic fox

We managed to get about 90% of the enclosure painted by the end of my shift there. Ron decided to stay through for a few more hours so I am pretty sure he completed the job. There wasn’t much left; it was just difficult to manage through rounds of light rain showers.  By the time I returned home, I found myself covered in black paint from head to shoe, in speckles, of course. How I ended up with that stuff on my forehead and my eyelids is a mystery I’ll never solve.

Cats: Big & Little

My first day volunteering with the Catty Shack Ranch started with the simplest of tasks: cleaning coolers. By noon, I was knee-deep in raw chicken. All of the meat was donated and included pork, ground beef patties, and beef hearts that all needed to be separated and put into coolers for the night feeding.  It was a pretty disgusting job but it had to be done. There must have been at least a dozen 33-pound boxes of frozen raw chicken to sort out and I had only enough time to get through eight of them. Luckily, volunteers come to help throughout the day so there were others around to pick up where I left off.

While the work was enough to turn me off from eating chicken for a very, very, very long time, I do have to admit that being there was really fun, especially because not everyone gets to see what happens at the sanctuary behind-the-scenes. About halfway through my adventures in raw chicken/salmonella contamination (leaky gloves – keep your fingers crossed for me), the cubs were brought out to get some fresh air. I didn’t get to see them, but anyone remotely nearby could have heard them just fine! The little ones are still working on perfecting their vicious growls and roars but because they are only babies, the tiger cubs come off sounding like very sickly cats mewing on high volume. It’s nowhere near vicious sounding, but loud and screechy and oh, I hope they learn how to growl soon because my ears might just begin to bleed.  Yeah, like that, but way cuter.

I am not able to take photos of the property or any of the animals while I’m volunteering. I can, however, share with you these shots I took while I was on the property as a visitor last weekend during their Open House. It was an opportunity for the public to drop by and meet the cubs and to also walk around the Catty Shack Ranch and catch a glimpse of the other big cats during daylight hours. Enjoy!

First, kitteh belleh time with the big cats:
The other day, during visiting hours, all of the babies were roughing around and playing during their first public appearance. Only one was too tuckered out after such a strenuous day of being awfully cute and napped in the corner, or tried to anyway. The other cubs pounced on him from behind and constantly nipped at his legs. Of course, this elicited those squawky growls and screechy grunts, but the babies are learning to hold their own.

And now, kitteh belleh time with the cubs:
(Yes, that is the same photograph I closed my post with a few days ago, but one can never get enough kitteh belleh.)

Catty Shack Ranch Wildlife Sanctuary

During Matt’s last visit to Jacksonville, we decided to take the kid to visit the Catty Shack Ranch just down the road from my house.  The Catty Shack is a sanctuary for endangered big cats that have been confiscated by state and federal wildlife officials for a number of reasons including illegal ownership, mistreatment, neglect, etc. (sometimes the cats will end up on illegal hunting ranches once the previous owner refuses to care for them). They’ve also taken in coatimundis, artic foxes, and a few domesticated cats that enjoy welcoming the new volunteers during the monthly meetings. The organization’s most recent acquisition (one that has become an unexpected benefit to the Catty Shack) came in the form of tiger cubs (!!!) which I’ll get to in another post. But first, a little backstory and a brief telling of my first visit to the sanctuary.

The Catty Shack houses and cares for lions, tigers, cougars (also known as panthers, pumas, mountain lions, and so on), leopards, servals, and the other aforementioned wild animals. The cats’ enclosures far exceed the standards set by the state of Florida and once a big cat is brought to the Catty Shack, they have a permanent home for the rest of their lives, which, depending on the species, varies from 15 to 25 years. The sanctuary’s curator, Curt LoGuidice, shared with those of us at the night feeding event that these cats eat approximately 500 pounds of meat a night. 500 pounds each and every night! As you can imagine, donations (of time, money, supplies) are greatly appreciated and, in case you’re wondering, 100% of all donations to the Catty Shack go directly to the care of the animals they shelter.

The weekend night feeding we attended was the first time I had visited the Catty Shack Ranch. Because of the overwhelming interest in the cubs, more people than expected showed up on both nights that were open to the public. Though the cubs were not out (they still sleep a lot!), people were genuinely excited and eager to get as close as possible to the cats. This kind of public interest is fantastic! Matt, Elle, and I watched in fascination as Curt and his dedicated staff of volunteers worked through the event with a lot of enthusiasm. They certainly did not disappoint! The volunteers here at the Catty Shack Ranch definitely have a special and intimate closeness with the animals and it’s pretty incredible to see it happen, especially because some of the volunteers enter the enclosures to feed the tigers and lions.  The word trust just seems to fall immeasurably short in describing this kind of relationship.

Here’s Curt, the sanctuary’s curator, feeding chicken to one of the tigers. And, yes, there’s a certain kind of crunch, crunch of tiger jaws clamping down on bone.

Some Big Cat (rawr!) numbers (global populations) obtained from Defenders of Wildlife:

• Tigers – fewer than 3,200 exist in the world today
• Amur Leopards – fewer than 50 (yes, FIFTY) in the wild
• Lions – only about 21,000 still roam the entire continent of Africa
• Florida Panthers – obviously very close to my heart, and only between 100 to 160 may still exist in Southwest Florida

(I did go back the following weekend to see the cubs during an open house event. I’ll share photos of that visit in another upcoming post. Also, I will have many more stories to share with you about the Catty Shack Ranch as I will be volunteering with them beginning this week!)

And to satiate any desire you might have for tiger cub kitteh belleh (as I like to call it), I leave you all with this. Now, everyone say it together – AWWW!!! :

Jacksonville Beach on Dwellable

4th Grade Holiday Parties: A Great Place to Network and Build Job Skills

Since losing my job back in September, I’ve gained nothing but public pity, food stamps, and alot of free time (and a nearly-homicidal strain of cabin fever, but that’s another story for another day). I’m not very good at entertaining myself for long stretches of time and the constant availability in my calendar leaves me struggling for things with which to fill my days. Sure, I could call up my friends and meet them for lunch or enjoy a ladies’ night with BOGO margaritas but that would only make my wallet suffer even more than it already is.  Remember, unemployed = no money. Add Christmas to that damn equation and I often feel guilty just filling up my gas tank.  Especially because I have nowhere to go because I have no job. 

Oh, hey there, Square One! You snuck up right next to me all stealth-like just to point out the obvious, didn’t you?

So when I received an email from Elle’s teacher last week pleading for parent volunteers to help with the classroom’s holiday party (see, you can’t even call it a Christmas party anymore), I jumped at the chance.  In fact, my response was “THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME A GOOD REASON TO LEAVE THE HOUSE I’M SO DESPERATELY BORED I CAN’T WAIT TO INTERACT WITH OTHER HUMANS DURING THE DAY EVEN IF THEY ARE ONLY 4 FEET TALL!!!! What time should I be there?”  Then she replied back and asked me to bring a small jar of mayonnaise and mustard. 

Psssh…whatever your precious heart desires, lady. Since I’m not being invited to job interviews anymore, I’ll certainly accept an invitation to attend a 4th-grade party, even if I have to work the event. (There were two more parent volunteers who showed up later to help with lunchtime and cleanup).

When I arrived this morning, the kids in Elle’s class seemed genuinely happy to see me.  “Hi, Ms. N.!!”, “Good morning, Elle’s mom!”, and “Why are you here?” are just a sampling of the heartfelt greetings I received.  My favorite?  “You’re the only parent to volunteer for prep.  Think you can handle it?  Here’s a knife.” That was obviously from the teacher. 

Mrs. S. instructed all the kids to line up and get ready to head outside for relay games.  While the children shifted on their feet in anticipation of inhaling fresh air, I was shown to all the food that would be prepared by none other than…ME! Also, I was to prepare enough sandwiches to feed two classes, not just this one. 

Suddenly, I felt like a contestant on Top Chef who’d just been thrown a curveball at the beginning of a Quickfire Challenge. Because, while I’m no mathematician, that equals roughly 60-65 hungry and loud 4th graders who will probably down at least two sandwiches each.

And your time starts NOW!

**********

There are two deadly things in this first photograph – the knife AND the gloves, which I later learned contained latex.  I’m allergic to latex so this was just totally awesome.

I quickly acquired a damn knife wound from slicing the rolls through the middle before pulling them apart one by one. MEDIC! Okay, so I didn’t really require any medical intervention. However, the teacher explained to me that they are only allowed to pull five bandages a day from the front office and she’d already run out by that morning.  All I have to say is that it’s a good thing I’m a paranoid neurotic who prepares for the worst because I had to supply my own first aid items…that I conveniently carry with me at all times in my purse.

Ah, the deadly latex gloves. The first pair of gloves got mucked up by the knife wound and I figured it would be a good idea to photograph evidence of my fingers still intact in case they all fall off later tonight.  It’s been approximately 3 hours since I’ve worn the latex gloves and I’m typing this, so all is well for now. 

In the end, the children had a great time doing races outside, participating in a gift exchange, and playing a marshmallow toss back inside the classroom.  They even raved about my delicious ham and turkey sandwiches! Because of all this praise and admiration, and the fact that no children were present to witness the butchery and carnage caused earlier by the knife, I’m considering using all the kids in Elle’s class as references in case I have to apply for a sandwich artist position at Subway.