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.

Chrissie Hynde: A Rockin' Animal Advocate

For better or worse, I'm old enough to be a fan of Chrissie Hynde and The Pretenders pretty much from the get-go.

Not just that glorious debut album--remember how damn near every song was fantastic, as the band roamed confidently all over the musical countryside from fiery rawker to tender ballad to Kinks cover to reggae number and back again?

It was more than that, though. It was also their first shows Stateside...which, for me, meant a 1980 concert at the Warfield Theatre in San Francisco, where The Pretenders opened for The Boomtown Rats.

And, as my buddy Randy Fender & I were recalling the other day, The Pretenders smoked. They were a terrific, muscular band, while Chrissie Hynde was an extraordinary singer and an absolutely riveting presence onstage. Over the years, the personnel changed, but that assessment never did.

It was a good handful of years later that I became aware of Chrissie's work on behalf of animals. But for quite some time, it's been pretty difficult to be unaware of that work, especially for anyone plugged into the world of animal welfare.

Of course, you didn't have to be all that plugged in to notice some of her work, which in no small measure because it's done by Chrissie Hynde--has often been rather high-profile and colorful.

For instance, she was arrested in Paris while protesting KFC and their inhumane treatment of chicken in the processing plant, arrested another time in New York protesting the use of leather by The Gap in some of its clothing.

And then there was that time nearly 20 years ago, when she famously said "I firebombed McDonald's," and the next day a McDonald's in Buckinghamshire was firebombed. But some of her work on behalf of animals isn't at all marked by that sort of dramatic flair--for instance, in April she wrote a sharp, powerful piece in the Toronto Globe & Mail about Canada's annual seal hunt.

So as a longtime fan of her music and the animal work, it was probably no surprise that I sought to have Chrissie Hynde join me on "Talking Animals." And probably no less surprising that this was quite difficult to pull off.

During a period spanning more than three years, The Pretenders' manager and I became e-mail pen pals, with her generally--and quite courteously--explaining why Chrissie was not available or not doing interviews. But, crucially, she never told me to quit sending the e-mails, never said something akin to "we'll contact you when Chrissie can do the interview"--typically, in this scenario, the polite kiss of death.

Then, in July--in response to my latest invitation, noting the forthcoming opening of VegeTerranean, Chrissie's vegetarian restaurant in her native Akron, Ohio--she e-mailed back, starting the note with "Good things really do come to those who wait," explaining that Chrissie had agreed to do the interview.

I was thrilled, a degree of enthusiasm that was unwavering, even when the interview itself started out on somewhat curious footing: Chrissie sounded wary, maybe even a touch hostile initially. Turned out, a complicated day and the machinations of being in the midst of a Pretenders tour had prevented her from seeing notes that described the focus of "Talking Animals."

But the conversation was no less solid and vibrant for that (heck, probably more so), and toward the end, she was recognizing that "Talking Animals" was a show about animals and animal issues. I answered a few of her questions about the show, including mentioning some past guests--this was all on air, mind you--and then, landing about 180 degrees from where she started at the beginning of the conversation, she said brightly, "I'll do your show anytime."

Those were her final words in the interview. But, based on a few things--including an immensely kind voicemail she later left on my cell phone--probably not her final words on "Talking Animals."

And, to me, that was rockin' good news.

This Alison's Aim Is True, Too: Striving To Reduce Animal Abuse By Providing Significant Info About it

There are countless heroes and heroines in the animal welfare world, but arguably few are doing more heavy lifting--emotionally speakng-than those dealing daily with animal abuse.

People like Alison Gianotto.

The guest on the July 11 edition of "Talking Animals," Alison Gianotto is a nationally-recognized expert on animal abuse and cruelty who also happens to be a computer whiz (and, yes, I realize everyone seems to be a computer whiz these days, but not everyone has written books on computer programming, as Alison has--alright, Bub?).

About six years ago, combing both areas of expertise, she created Pet-Abuse.com, a sprawling web site and online resource that seeks to reduce animal abuse through providing information and education. Moreover, the database--currently featuring more than 11,000 cases--has become a major tool relied on by law enforcement, prosecutors and others across the country.

Pet-Abuse.com provides details, updated daily, about neglect/abuse/cruelty court cases taking place across this country (and sometimes other countries), and a slew of other info, services and resources.

I urge you to visit Pet-Abuse.com.

And I urge you to hear Alison Gianotto speak--not necessarily on "Talking Animals" (although our conversation is archived and available as an iTunes podcast via the show website, http://www.talkinganimals.net/), but perhaps at one of the many talks she delivers at conferences, college campuses and other events throughout the nation.

She's whip-smart, wildly articulate, and while the topic can be dark and depressing, she's not.

Jeremiah Was A Tree Frog?

There are many, many things that I love about our house in Jupiter Farms--even allowing for the fact that it's a three hour drive to WMNF, the radio station in Tampa where I hold forth on "Talking Animals"--and chief among those things is the tremendous amount of wildlife we share our digs with.

In subsequent posts, I'll surely address the sweeping array of fauna that live here, or periodically hang here. There's probably at least a post or two in just rhapsodizing about all the wonderful creatures that reside in--or visit--our pond.

But today I just want to mention our little tree frog friend, who perches near our front door, very close to the lights, which when illuminated in the darkness of night, attract all sorts of flying insects--sort of an All You Can Eat Buffet for our sticky-fingered (and tongued) friend.

He seems to have a good, comfortable life, and while awaiting nightfall, he can be an amusing feller. A picture may or may not be worth a thousand words, but perhaps this shot suggests a pretty relaxed character?