The Tiger Went Tiger

The only thing particularly shocking about the death of the Sea World trainer on February 24th--- due to the aggressive actions of a killer whale--- is that people are still shocked when a wild animal behaves in a way that showcases its very wildness. I mean really, it's about as stunning as Donald Trump's hair system. Sure it may be horrific, but we've seen this movie before.

This isn't the first time this has happened at Sea World. Hell, it's not even the first time this has happened with this whale. In 1991, Tilikum (as he is called) and two other whales were responsible for the drowning of a trainer at a Canadian water park. Again in 1999, a 27 year old man was found dead at Sea World, floating in a pool with Tilikum. And here's a tip: If the word "killer" is in the animal's name, maybe that should be accepted at face value.

Now I'm not trying to diminish the personal tragedy of the trainer and how that awful event affected her family, friends, and co-workers. From all reports, she was a model employee and truly loved the animals that she worked with. But there is an accepted element of risk involved when you try to train or domesticate creatures who make their homes in the wild. A risk that those at Sea World seem to be unwilling to learn. Sea World made a statement last week that they will continue to use Tilikum in events in the future, although on a more limited basis. However, the whale was already considered a high risk performer who required additional measures in handling prior to this latest death. So, one has to wonder how many more people have to die at Sea World so that animals can perform tricks for us.

Probably the best recent example of how bad things can go with a wild animal is the Siegfried and Roy debacle with a tiger in 2003. For those that don't remember, the two garishly dressed Vegas performers were doing their act when the tiger involved turned on Roy (or was it Siegfried?--whatever), latched on to his head leaving him clinging to life and resulting in permanent disability. While I'm certain that those in attendance will never get such a horrible occurrence out of their minds, I never understood why people thought the tiger must have gone crazy. Because, as my favorite living comedian Chris Rock put it: "The tiger didn't go crazy, the tiger went tiger."

Which is the whole point. Just because you remove an animal from the wild and socialize it with humans, doesn't mean you can take the wild out of the animal. In the case of a tiger, you are removing an animal from it's habitat and replacing its home with what is comparatively a blade of grass. Even worse, with a killer whale you are going from the vastness of the ocean to a pool that might as well be the size of a tear drop. Of course, I know that sometimes these animals are raised in captivity, but their underlying instincts remain. That instinct is the reason why birds fly south for the winter without having to be told.

These creatures were not born to be in the circus, a Vegas act, or a zoo. They weren't made to have handlers or trainers. And they certainly weren't put on Earth to entertain us. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that zoos serve no purpose (although the circus should be outlawed). A high quality, modern zoo is a great educational tool and some day may be the only place that you will be able to see these wondrous creatures. I once went to a zoo in Arizona and fed a giraffe from my hand. I was nearly moved to tears afterwards. That being said, we should all remember that these animals aren't in enclosures (as they are infamously referred to). They are in cages. I think we've all heard the phrase "like a caged animal" used to describe someone who acts out in a savage way, so why is it any surprise when an actual caged animal does exactly that?

A couple of years ago, my wife and I went to the Pottawatomie Zoo here in South Bend. A grossly underfunded facility that has paltry "enclosures" for the jungle cats in residence. We walked over to view two lions in a cage that must not have felt much larger than that of a paw print to the proud beasts locked inside of it. One of the lions was pacing around the perimeter of this prison when he made eye contact with me. He then turned away from me and sprayed a massive line of urine in my direction, missing me by less than a foot. I'm sure this act of defiance was nowhere near his true intentions. Were he able to, I'd bet he would have liked to have made a meal out of me. I suppose I could have been annoyed or at least amused, but I was mostly just sad. This massive beast that lives to roam the jungle, form a pride, and hunt for food, had been reduced to clanging his water cup against the bars of his cell in a vain effort to annoy his perceived oppressors. He knows he doesn't belong there, and we know it too. Or at least we should after what happened at Sea World 11 days ago.

Sumo-Pop
March 7, 2010