It's Saturday morning, and I've just switched from my cleaning music, hiphop, to my writing music, soft acoustic ballads. It's an odd transition, but I'm starting to calm down into a place where the words flow. I'm sipping some green tea, and looking out at my back yard. It's an interesting yard, to be sure. It reminds me of the thing I miss most about Virginia: the soil. That sounds utterly ridiculous, I know, but how true! I never in my life knew how much I truly appreciated the soft, dark, moist earth of home, with grasses so lime green and soft that I can go barefoot almost anywhere. I never wear shoes at home, and I frequently engage in one of my favorite activities- lying in the grass, studying the sky and the landscape of my thoughts. But here, oh what disdain I have for the ground beneath me! It is positively dry, like walking through a sandbox, because the arid, light soil just flies up into your shoes, between you toes, on your legs, everywhere. The grass is sparse and mixed with brown. What grass there is is a deeper green than home, and it is prickly. I can hardly wear sandals happily in these conditions, and God forbid I every try and lie down! I would be covered in dust and prickly things and ants. My, my, how I miss the soil of Virginia. I just needed to get that off my chest, but now back to animals.
Unfortunately this week wasn't incredibly eventful, as no veterinarian was scheduled to be at the zoo. On two occasions, we had a vet stop by for a few hours, and we did a few things, but no wow procedures. As we were checking on a spoonbill who hasn't been feeling well, we decided to deworm him and take a blood sample. Unfortunately, as I was drawing up the syringes of dewormer, using a 16 gauge needle (which is a pretty thick needle for ease of drawing up the liquids), I accidentally stabbed and drug it through my pointer finger. I started bleeding quite heavily; I think I must have pulled through a vessel, and I do not deal with seeing my own blood. I got highly nauseous and dizzy, but was trying to remain focused and professional. I couldn't bear to be seen as weak somehow (that's how I am), so I kept on working. I wrapped up my wound in an alcohol-soaked gauze piece, which burned like the fires of hades. We got the blood we needed from the bird, performed an examination, and gave him the dewormers, and I thankfully did not pass out. I came out of there with quite a few stains on my shirt and pants...hopefully the dewormer will help the spoonbill feel better, because I'm honestly getting dizzy just thinking about the experience. It's so strange to me how I can see animals cut open, see other people's blood, work with poop and worms, and dead intestines, and yet I can't deal with my own red water coming out. Oh well, thus is life.
I've been working on my ethogram of the zebra, Tanga, each day. I've learned alot about him, so far. He gets very stressed if people pass on ATVs and are talking to one another. This Wednesday, a female zebra was put in the yard beside him, so they can acclimate. The keepers are hoping they will breed when they let them together soon. I don't thing Tanga is a real fan of change, though, or maybe he dislikes this particular female, because he has been highly stressed by her presence. Each time she approaches the fence near him, he goes trotting or cantering off to the other side of the yard, huffing and kicking. Yesterday, I observed, for the first time, his stereotyped behavior of weaving. He'd gotten to the point of being comfortable with the female at a distance. If he was grazing a good two yards to more away, and she approached the fence, he would just study her for a second, then go back to eating. However, if he was right at the fence, and she came to face him, he bolted to the corner, faced the barn, and moved his head right to left over and over again for several minutes. Poor guy. I wish that this weren't such a stressful experience for him. You'd think he would really benefit from another zebra's company, especially a female, but as it is out of his normal routine, he seems highly unhappy with it. I hope he continues to get acclimated to her, and everything turns out all right when they are put in the yard together. Being able to study his behaviors and seeing what makes him tick is a real start to seeing how we can help him feel more comfortable. I'm very happy that I'm having this opportunity to watch him. Here's a picture of him:
No comments:
Post a Comment