Keepers in the children’s zoo were attempting to catch a nighttime marauder that was killing their chickens and waterfowl. One keeper in particular was determined to get the animal, suspected to be a large raccoon. When live traps near the bird areas failed to catch it he spent several nights in the zoo with a shotgun. That was no more successful.

Then one morning a live trap at the other end of the children’s zoo was found sprung but empty. The keeper figured that his hunt would soon be successful. The next few mornings, however, gave the same result: the trap was sprung and the bait was gone, but the trap was empty. Each day the keeper became more excited—a raccoon that could reach the bait in the large live trap but still stick out far enough to prevent the trap door from closing must be a giant. And he was going to catch it!

He was rather disappointed a few nights later when another keeper got a look at the “monster raccoon.” One of the working dogs, a border collie, jumped out of the dog yard, wriggled his head and shoulders into the live trap, and cleaned up the meat in the live trap. Then, his evening snack finished, he nonchalantly returned to his enclosure.

Editors Note:
The keepers didn’t think that the border collie was responsible for killing the birds, only that he figured out a way to get an extra midnight snack. The “killer raccoon” was never caught although the night-time killings stopped soon after.

Many zoo animals get used to a set routine, and the turkey vulture in the Southwest United States exhibit in the children’s zoo was no exception. The exhibit, which he shared with a few prairie dogs and assorted lizards, was an oblong, walled enclosure with glass in the front. Children could see in through the glass and adults could lean over the open top.

The vulture was brought inside every afternoon, although not always at the same time. Some days the bird was ready to go in before keepers came to get him and he would hop up and wait on the front wall of the enclosure. If that subtle hint wasn’t taken within a few minutes he would simply hop down and walk to the holding area.

Often keepers working inside the building would be warned of his approach, either by visitor’s screams as he marched resolutely through the crowds, or by the distinctive clicking of his toenails on the cement. Other times they would just open the door and find him waiting impatiently to be let in.

His greatest escapade, however, was the day that he made it completely out of the children’s zoo. Somehow he managed to end up inside the Kodiak bear grotto. The adult female bear had recently died, but her three young male offspring were still in the exhibit. Although they had nearly reached full adult size, the bears were still immature. And they didn’t quite know how to deal with this unusual creature that had suddenly appeared in their grotto.

The turkey vulture had no such qualms. Hissing and flapping his wings, he had those three young bears, each of which outweighed him by quite a few hundred pounds, backed into a corner. The bears were scrambling backwards over each other in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible.

The situation was eventually resolved peacefully. The bears’ den door was opened, allowing them to beat a hasty, if undignified, retreat to the safety of their den, and the turkey vulture was quickly recaptured and returned safely to the children’s zoo.

The petting circle consisted of a U-shaped bench for the children to sit on, attached to a bank of cages containing a variety of pettable animals. Since the area was completely enclosed by the bench, some of the animals were often allowed to run around in the circle while the keeper was passing around another animal.

One day while a keeper was holding some animal for a bench full of kids, he accidentally stepped on a chick. The children’s squeals and the looks on their faces told him that many of them had seen what had happened.

Thinking quickly, he scooped up the limp chick, which, of course, was stone dead, “examined” it, and announced that it would be fine after a little rest. He then took the body back to the cages and wedged it securely between a sleeping rabbit and guinea pig where it remained “sleeping” until the next shift change.