Unlikely Hero Gives Voice To Elephants Who Can't Voice Their Own Complaints

At first glance, you wouldn't necessarily peg Tom Rider as a guy speaking up for animals and educating the public in the process.

I mean, he doesn't cut the dashing figure of, say, Wayne Pacelle, the handsome, dapper honcho of the Humane Society of The U.S.

Rider's rounder, more rumpled.

But heroes come in all shapes and sizes, and many would say that Rider, who was my guest on the Jan. 7 edition of "Talking Animals," has done heroic work on behalf of circus elephants--particularly those forced to sing for their supper in Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus--for many years.

In 1997, Rider went to work for Ringling caring for the elephants, and over the course of a two 1/2 year stint, became a whistleblower after witnessing the daily abuse of those pacyhderms. That abuse involved the elephants being immobilized by chains for most of the day (often unchained only long enough to perform), and for even longer periods in the trains that transport the Ringling units, which means the elephants are forced to stand for hours in their own waste.

Worse--as has been widely documented in video pieces and by Rider (who reiterated this in our interview) and other Ringling whistleblowers--these wonderful, intelligent, complex creatures are repeatedly beaten with an ankus or bullhook which is heavy and club-like and has a pointy, sharp tip. Imagine a heavy and sharp fireplace poker. (I've done a Ringling-related show each year since I launched "Talking Animals" in 2003, and I've written on this topic for The Huffington Post and elsewhere.)

Tom Rider is now a central figure in a federal lawsuit brought against Ringling by multiple animal groups (including the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals [ASPCA], The Fund for Animals, the Animal Welfare Institute, and the Animal Protection Institute ) for mistreatment of the elephants under the Endangered Species Act.

That suit is slated to resume--some would say commence-- February 3 in Washington, DC.

In an odd intersection of heroic with nomadic, Rider essentially lives in his 80s Volkswagen bus, traveling to where one of the Ringling units is performing, making himself available to local media types and anyone else interested in hearing the dark truth about the life of circus animals.

Filling this role ain't exactly a get-rich scheme. Indeed, it would appear that Rider maintains a hand-to-mouth existence.

Joined by his daughter, whom he's been visiting in recent days, he had driven a considerable distance to join me in-studio for the "Talking Animals" interview, but wasn't sticking around for opening night of Ringling's Tampa engagement because his VW bus has a bum starter he can't afford to get fixed and he didn't want to get stranded in the dark, especially with rain forecast for the evening.

I offered to take them to lunch after the show--under the circumstances, seemed like the least I could do--but he politely declined, mostly because they needed to get back so his daughter could sort out a problem with her food stamps.

So, again, it's safe to say that speaking for the elephants--and against Ringling--has not served as a lucrative gambit for Rider. It's just something he feels compelled to do. As he noted in our interview, he plans to walk into that courtroom Feb. 3 and testify under oath, in large part because none of the affected elephants (even the ones still alive) can do so.

Those elephants will have a very forceful surrogate in that witness box.

Back In Blogging Action; Here's To Home Hares

For many years, I haven't been a big personal proponent of New Year's Resolutions--mostly, I guess, because back when I did make such resolutions, they'd typically become a pile of smoking wreckage by, oh, January 3rd.

Sometimes sooner.

So while I'm accordingly disinclined to even flirt with making any such resolution, now, in 2009, I'm also quite prepared to resolve to do regular, consistent posting on this blog. Does that mean daily posts? Hell, no. In immensely busy periods, it might not even mean weekly.

But generally, there's going to be far more action here this year, both directly and indirectly tied to "Talking Animals," and damn near always tied to animals.

For example, one of my very favorite things about our house--and we're fortunate enough to live on a pretty vast patch of land, including a pond where fish and turtle live and all sorts of fowl visit (but more on that in future posts)--is that in the early morning and again at dusk, a handful of wild rabbits collect on different hunks of our lawn and munch away contentedly.

They're not the only contented ones. I find it deeply calming, and sweet, that these hares not only live on our property, but at the appointed hours, when neither sizzling south Florida sun nor assorted predators are factors, emerge twice daily for a lovely grass repast.

They project a sense of feeling happy and safe. Which has added a notable wrinkle to a looming family decision: Now that Mike Strauss is five years old and has learned to become careful and gentle with the cats that live inside our home, we're giving increasingly serious thought to expanding our family by adopting a dog.

Endless pluses, of course, to such a move, but one major potential minus of a pooch roaming our digs is that our rabbit friends would likely feel unsafe dining on our lawn. Not hard to imagine them disappearing altogether.

For me, at least, it'd be a sad loss if we could no longer herald these hares. Stay tuned.

TNT's Ringling Reality Series: Sickest Show On Earth

Published today, April 11, 2008, on Huffington Post: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/duncan-strauss/tnts-ringling-reality-ser_b_96302.html

I read with great interest--and greater horror--that one component of TNT’s new plan to expand the network’s slate of original programming is an unscripted series set aboard the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus train that transports the performers and animals from show to show.

That sound you’re hearing may be the bottom of the barrel scraping--or it could be the moaning of an elephant being abused.

Sure, the unscripted-series barrel has been dredged ever deeper over the years, so that, now, darn near anything constitutes a reality show. If you’re intrigued by, say, who Chef Ramsay will next scream at, or which young lady will be selected to rock Bret Michaels’ world, hey, Godspeed.

Similarly, I certainly can’t keep you from watching this forthcoming TNT program about Ringling entitled, predictably enough, “The Greatest Show On Earth.” And I’m mindful that criticizing any sort of work—particularly if fueled by moral outrage—before seeing, reading, hearing that work is the province of the lunkhead.

But I don’t really seek to criticize this TNT series, and my outrage toward Ringling isn’t particularly elevated after hearing about the show—it’s always pretty damn high.

In answer to the question that must’ve popped up right about now—who the hell is this guy?—I’m a father, a passionate animal lover, and host of “Talking Animals,” a radio program about animals I launched in 2003 on KUCI in Irvine, and now airs on WMNF, an NPR station in Tampa, FL. (www.talkinganimals.net)

So, here are some defining Ringling Bros. traits that, even allowing for the often-altered reality of reality show, may lend this new TNT series an undercurrent of darkness.

Ringling has a long record of animal abuse, most notoriously toward its elephants, which spend most of their time shackled in chains or squeezed into boxcars. Aboard the circus train--center stage of the new series, remember—boxcars are often cramped, poorly ventilated, and the elephants stand for long stretches chained in their own waste.

Their training is fear-driven, revolving around punishing and hurting the animals. The main weapon of education is the bull hook, or ankus—picture a heavy, sharp fireplace poker—and the trainers hit the elephants, often repeatedly, with the bull hook in various parts of their body, so that they comply, so they “learn.” These scenes should make for some terrific television.

If you simply find it impossible to believe what I’m saying about Ringling’s routine animal abuse, no offense taken. It is almost too horrific to believe.

But a few minutes of online research—start by Googling such innocuous words as “circus” and “animals”--will yield a torrent of verifying results, documents, references to lawsuits against Ringling for their mistreatment of the elephants (including numerous former employees serving as whistleblowers) and spools of footage, undercover and otherwise. Regarding footage, I’d be remiss if I didn’t cite the award-winning piece on Ringling and its abuse of Asian elephants by veteran television journalist Leslie Griffith, who has won nine local Emmys and two Edward R. Murrow Awards: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I3rQzLOLR4M

I guess I’m also curious about how the new series will present the information that Ringling owner Kenneth Feld has known for more than a decade that many of its elephants have M-tuberculosis—the same kind of tuberculosis carried by and transmitted to humans—and that these elephants are allowed to tour (hey, more fascinating stories aboard the train) and to perform.

“The show must go on” adage takes on a complex new dimension when the show in question is posing a public health threat of, well, elephantine proportions.

Oh, sure, Feld and his lieutenants may tell you, on camera or otherwise, that elephants with TB are pulled from the show—from the train—and quarantined. The problem is that one can’t accurately diagnose an elephant with TB while he or she is alive—so-called “trunk washings” are imprecise, and, as you might imagine, it’s a little impractical to give a chest x-ray to an elephant.

Perhaps you’re thinking that this TB information, too, seems improbable. But Feld and his team are brilliant at marketing, and part of their genius is the deft way they get into bed with media outlets—one upshot is that you almost never see tough, much less investigative, reporting on Ringling.

Again, it will take you mere minutes of research to verify the TB situation, and once more I refer you to the work of Leslie Griffith, the journalist I think has done the best reporting on Ringling in recent years: This written piece includes e-mails and memos by veterinarians and USDA investigators expressing concern over TB in Ringling elephants. http://www.truthout.org/docs_2006/091207J.shtml

Gosh, endemic animal abuse and exposing audiences to TB seem to amount to blights on Ringling’s carefully-cultivated image as family entertainment. But I hope I don’t seem too cynical if I predict these elements may not get tremendous airplay on the TNT series.

Perhaps they’ll get their due attention in another TV project or documentary film on Ringling--may I suggest a working title of “The Sickest Show On Earth”?

For The Love Of Animals, Avoid The Circus

For the love of animals, avoid the circus
Special to The Palm Beach Post

Sunday, December 23, 2007

By Duncan Strauss

On Wednesday, the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus lumbers into the South Florida Fairgrounds Expo Center in Palm Beach County for 12 performances. To those considering stepping into the big top to attend one of these shows, I offer this polite request:

Please don't.

Who am I - some animal-hating killjoy out to spoil your fun? Far from it. I'm a father, a pretty passionate animal lover and, not coincidentally, I host a radio program about animals that airs on Tampa National Public Radio affiliate WMNF.

I do not claim to be a renowned animal expert. But over the years, I've done a great deal of research into an array of animal matters. In hosting the show, I've had the good fortune to interview a number of renowned animal experts, experiences that have yielded one indisputable conclusion:

Animals in circuses endure a relentlessly awful life, marked by constant travel in cramped quarters, where access to food and water and proper veterinary care can't always be counted on, but punishment, pain, cruelty and, sometimes, premature death can be.

Hyperbole? Hardly. Any unit of Ringling Bros. is on the road for six to 11 months at a time, typically traveling in small train cars or trucks that are often poorly ventilated and/or lack basic creature comforts.

But the travails of transportation practically seem glorious alongside the covert and overt cruelty of the training that prepares - if that's the right word - these animals to perform in "the greatest show on Earth." Allow me to pose two related rhetorical questions:

Do you think that tigers - who, like most animals, are deathly afraid of fire - would be naturally inclined to jump through a ring of fire?

Do you think that elephants would be naturally inclined to balance on a colorful perch, stand on their hind legs or heads, or dance?

The answer, of course, is a resounding "No." So, to achieve the sort of unnatural and physically challenging behaviors described above and others, the training is fear-driven, revolving around punishing and hurting the animals: whipping them, beating them with rods, etc.

Elephants often are restrained, then beaten until they understand not to fight back. The chief tool of the elephant training trade is the bull hook, or ankus, which is heavy and clublike and has a pointy, sharp tip. Imagine a heavy and sharp fireplace poker. The trainers hit the elephants with the bull hook in various parts of their body, so that they comply - "learn."

Sounds too horrendous to believe, doesn't it? But there is plenty of testimony by former Ringling employees that says as much, and lots of video that shows as much - some of it as new as this year. To see an extensive array of germane video footage in less than eight minutes, you could hardly do better than watching the award-winning piece on Ringling and its abuse of Asian elephants by television journalist Leslie Griffith, who has won nine local Emmys and two Edward R. Murrow Awards, It's at www.youtube.com/watch?v=I3rQzLOLR4M.

Keen observers of Ms. Griffith's work will notice that it's from 2004, and might reasonably wonder whether Ringling has improved its treatment of animals. Nope. In October 2006, Robert Tom, a former animal keeper who worked for Ringling for nearly two years (his wife, Margaret, also was employed by the circus) issued a notarized declaration - six pages of hair-raising accounts of animal neglect, abuse and cruelty in and around the big top.

Mr. Tom's experiences echo those of Archele Faye Hundley, a young mother of five, who worked as part of the animal crew. Her lengthy September 2006 notarized declaration, notes: "I quit the circus because the animal abuse was too upsetting. The abuse was not once in awhile, it occurred every day."

The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, along with three other not-for-profit animal welfare organizations - The Fund For Animals, Animal Welfare Institute and Animal Protection Institute - are in the midst of litigation, under the Federal Endangered Species Act, against Ringling. The allegations detail the routine abuse and neglect of Asian elephants. The groups are joined in the lawsuit by a former Ringling employee, Tom Rider, who worked as a barn man for the elephants for 21/2 years, and is featured in the Griffith piece.

I digress here briefly for a prediction: Ringling owner Kenneth Feld surely will dispatch someone to respond to this piece - could be an official employee or maybe someone in the guise of a Ringling fan writing a letter to the editor - to dismiss these contentions as the ravings of a misinformed loon.

There will be rosy scenarios offered about their training, about their "conservation efforts" (their Center for Elephant Conservation is little more than a facility to restock the touring units with fresh pachyderms), about how great their animals are treated, etc. There are millions of dollars at stake, and elephants are the prime drawing cards, so when someone is critical of the operation, Mr. Feld and his fellow Ringling panjandrums typically mobilize quickly. And they'll say anything.

Nonetheless, let's just say, for the sake of ludicrous argument, that nothing untoward is visited on elephants in the course of their big top training. They're still forced to travel in those train cars or trucks to perform up to three shows a day and to spend most of their non-performance time anchored by leg chains.

Let me hasten to add that I'm not at all universally opposed to circuses, just those that use animals. There are numerous animal-free circuses - perhaps the most famous is Cirque du Soleil, but the last list I saw featured more than 20 such outfits.

If your family has a hankering to see a circus, go to one of those. But attending a Ringling performance is tantamount to endorsing animal abuse.

This Ziggy Doesn't Play Guitar--But I Bet He Could

One of the many things I like about living where we do--a vaguely rural area with lots of space and a decidedly equestrian bent--is that we share our digs with all sorts of fabulous creatures.

These range from lizards and frogs (one of which I, uh, profiled, in a previous post) to rabbits, opossums, squirrels to all kinds of wildlife in and around our pond, including turtles and fish inside, and assorted fowl outside.

Perhaps my favorite critter around these parts, though, is Ziggy, the fabulous white horse who lives next door. For one thing, as the accompanying picture suggests, he's gorgeous.

But it's more than that. He's a mellow and kind beast, with one of those especially magnetic personalities that only certain animals have. He's the kind of horse you're always happy to see, when you approach the house--or even when you're heading out.

I always stop, roll down the window and call, "Hi Ziggy." I recognize that it means a lot more to me than it does to him, but even if he's in the midst of chowing down, he always looks up and nods to acknowledge the greetings. That's just the kind of horse he is.

Several months ago, Ziggy's human companions placed their house on the market, which was sad news in all kinds of ways--not surprisingly, perhaps, these folks are as nice as Ziggy is, and we'll be very sorry to see them go.

Meanwhile, Ziggy has been spending large hunks of time at their ranch in another part of the state. He's had some problems of late with his feet, and the ground at the ranch is easier on his feet, plus he has a horse friend up there. Hard to begrudge him greater comfort & equine companionship.

But we miss him. This summer, Ziggy was gone for one of the first of his long stretches, and I was in the car with my 4-year-old, Mike, when we drove by his main stomping grounds, and we began wondering aloud where Ziggy was.

"Maybe," Mike suggested, "he's on vacation?"

Out of the mouth of babes, and all. Turns out, Mike's guess was pretty darn accurate. Ziggy came back a few weeks ago, and we all were bonkers with excitement. It was so great to see him, so comforting and wonderful to hear him snorting and whinnying at night.

I went over darn every day to talk with him. Again, the conversations meant a lot more to me than to him; for all I know, he just considered me an odd and lonely man. But, I guess, as someone who loves animals, it's a powerfully pleasurable feeling simply to be in the presence of an animal like that. I relish those visits.

He went back to the ranch recently. Of course, I'm glad he's happier and more comfortable up there, but every time I drive back to our house, I steal a glance next door, hoping Ziggy might have returned. I can hardly wait for our next chat.

Ingrid Newkirk & Other Wright-Thinking People On Behalf Of Turkeys

By no small coincidence, I suppose, HBO's documentary "I Am An Animal: The Story Of Ingrid Newkirk And PETA" premiered Monday evening--just a few nights before Thanksgiving.

The film seeks to provide a profile of Ingrid Newkirk and the organization she co-founded some 27 years ago, People For The Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), showing her at her very spartan apartment and at work at the PETA offices as well as at the helm of PETA campaigns and investigations--including an undercover investigation of ConAgra turkey processing plant.

We see that this investigation is initially botched in the hands of too-green PETA operative before he's replaced by a grizzled vet who emerges with video footage of horrifying abuses of the turkeys in that plant. I'd like to think at least a small percentage of viewers opted to skip the turkey at this year's Thanksgiving meal.

Before moving on to a couple of other quick turkey/Thanksgiving-related observations, I like to note, for what little it's worth, that the documentary was not without its virtues, but presented a one-dimensional if not downright inaccurate portrait of Ingrid Newkirk. Do I agree with everything she says, or has done?

Certainly not. My theory (and an underlying premise of "Talking Animals") is that everyone--both inside and outside the animal welfare world--has their own philosophical threshold of ideas, arguments and tactics they deem appropriate for the cause they're seeking to serve. For me, for example, the PETA campaign comparing pigs and chickens squished together in a factory farming setting with Jews in the Holocaust--well, do I need to go on? Yet, even now, the film makes clear, Newkirk thinks that was a good campaign, and stands by it.

But I also think she's done enormous good for all sorts of animals for the better part of three decades. And I was surprised by the Ingrid Newkirk that was rendered in "I Am An Animal": Profoundly sad, disconnected, unpleasant, almost lifeless.

She might well be those things at times, but the Ingrid Newkirk I've seen in countless interviews and other settings--and I interviewed her myself on "Talking Animals" three years ago--and she more commonly comes across as a bright, peppy, witty, spirited, engaging figure. I didn't see that Ingrid in this documentary, which isn't to suggest the film was without merit. There just seemed to be curious choices made in the editing bay, and maybe elsewhere, along the way.

On a somewhat related note, Don Wright--The Palm Beach Post's phenomenal, Pulitzer-winning editorial cartoonist--offered the day before Thanksgiving a wordless but typically powerful cartoon: in a field there's a big human hunter carrying a gun, with a thought bubble above his ahead with the image of a turkey in a roasting pan; on the other side of a large tree, we see a turkey with a thought bubble above his ahead--with the image of the hunter in a roasting pan.

I'm with the turkey.

But for years now, I've sided with the turkey--and once again, yesterday, I had a fantastic turkey-free Thanksgiving meal. With any luck--whether or not they saw "I Am An Animal"--more folk did the same yesterday. And even more might consider that sort of Thanksgiving meal next year.

This Sloth Is Ten-Toed...

There's been no legitimate contest--no competiton, online or otherwise (that I know of)--but unofficially, at least, I think it's safe to declare myself the World's Laziest Blogger.

Hardly a reason to brag, I realize.

I mean, most folks who go to the trouble to get themselves a blog actually use it, regularly tapping out their musings on a host of topics, creating posts that can range from the riveting and provocative to the indulgent and deadly dull. But wherever these bloggers land on this continuum, at least they're writing.

Me, not so much. Oh, sure, there's a litany of explanations/excuses I could offer for what has kept me from adding my two cents to the blogosphere in the last several weeks, but that'd likely end up a pathetic exercise in offering something perhaps even less compelling than my regular posts. No small task.

And why I haven't been blogging isn't really all that significant. What's important (well, to me) is that I get back on the blogging horse, in a manner of speaking.

So, getting a huge jump on my New Year's resolutions, I'm pledging to do much more blogging for the balance of '07, and into 2008. Mostly, as I outlined in the missive that launched this blog, posts will generally be connected to my radio show, "Talking Animals" or otherwise tied to the world of animals and animal welfare.

With that, let the blogging begin. Or resume.