One of the worst things for zoos is well-meaning people who mistakenly believe that “having a dog” or “loving animals” makes them animal experts.
“That rhino looks sad.” No, that’s literally just how his face looks, and he lays in the mud because it keeps him cool.
“That tiger doesn’t have any water.” Yes she does, she has access to an automatically-refilling drinker, it’s just hidden from public view because it’s ugly.
“That polar bear needs a friend.” No he doesn’t, polar bears are solitary.
“That parrot is missing feathers.” Yes, the keepers are aware of it, they know the reason why, they’re monitoring his health, and they’re doing their best to solve the problem.
“That antelope is pacing along the fence.” He always paces at this time of day because he can see the females when they shift. If you came back later, he wouldn’t be pacing.
“This exhibit is too small.” Well, according to our well-researched and species-specific standards, it’s technically not too small, otherwise we’d lose accreditation. Would the keepers ideally like more space for the animals? Yep. Do you have a million dollars to donate to make that happen? Didn’t think so.
The point is, zoo visitors rarely understand the full context of what they’re seeing. Trust me – keepers would love it if y'all would just ask us if you have a concern. We’re more than happy to explain things that appear confusing or troubling, and could probably put your mind at ease every time.
I’m not going to lie and say that every animal in every zoo is healthy and content 100% of the time. That’s certainly what we strive for, but it’s not reality. At any given time, there will be sick animals, injured animals, behavioral issues including stereotypic behavior, and a variety of other problems that the public might notice. Animals have health and behavioral issues just like people do; this is true whether they’re in the wild or under human care. What zookeepers wish the public would understand is that it’s literally our job to anticipate, understand, manage, and resolve these issues, and that we take that responsibility very seriously because we know our animals better – and love them more – than any visitor ever could.
To put it another way: I’m sure there are times when I could walk into your home and see that your house is a mess, your kids are in desperate need of a washing and are throwing temper tantrums on the floor yelling that they’re “starving.” Would it be right for me, based on that one moment, to accuse you of child abuse? Of course not. But this is what people do at zoos all the time. They come in, spend a few hours, don’t ask questions, make up their own story in their head, and then run their mouth on the internet about it. And then there are the people who think that anything wrong with an animal at any time must be due to human negligence. Bro, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but… animals get sick, they get injured, they have accidents, and they die. That’s reality in the wild AND in captivity, no matter how careful we are.
Loving food doesn’t make you a chef. Loving air travel doesn’t make you a pilot. And loving animals doesn’t make you a zookeeper. Please have some respect for the highly educated, well-trained people who have dedicated their careers (and much of their personal lives) to making sure these animals are well taken care of, and give us the benefit of the doubt that we know our animals and we know what we’re doing.