SeaWorld's Secrets: review of BENEATH THE SURFACE

 Beneath the Surface

John Hargrove

$26, hardcover. Our price: $20.80

According to their website, SeaWorld is “dedicated to giving animals a second chance at life.” They also purport to contribute to conservation efforts of marine mammals by educating the public. There are certainly elements of truth to some of their declarations. But there are also abundant falsehoods, according to John Hargrove and many other former and current SeaWorld trainers, as well as scientists studying orcas in the wild. Given the overwhelming outcry against their practices, how can one truly believe that “SeaWorld Cares”?

I wanted to believe it. Most of us do. We enjoy watching the wonders of these enormous animals up close in a way few could in the wild. Their bulk and intelligence are awe-inspiring. They have an almost mystical enchantment about them that is irresistible to audiences.

But then, tragedy strikes, and as the story of one trainer’s death unfolds, the public learns of the deep dark secrets behind SeaWorld’s Shamu Stadium.

John Hargrove was a senior trainer at SeaWorld, a dream job for him, and one which he gave up under quite a bit of duress. His fascinating book chronicles not only the maltreatment by the corporation of the orcas, but of the trainers as well. It took him years to face the reality of the dark side of SeaWorld, and when he did, it was even longer before he made the decision to leave. That meant leaving the whales he loved deeply; losing a career that had been hard-won and fulfilling; and becoming the target of SeaWorld’s backlash against the bad publicity his book and the documentary Blackfish created.

To understand the complexity of the situation, the reader of Beneath the Surface would benefit from reading War of the Whales, and of watching Blackfish, which focused on the death of trainer Dawn Brancheau. But also, study SeaWorld’s website, read their refutation against the charges in Blackfish, and weigh the good against the evil of such animal venues. To me, in the end, it came down to the ethics of using wild animals for our entertainment and for a company’s profit. Do we have the right to do that? I don’t believe we do. Especially when the use is actually abuse.

Hargrove’s book begins with his fascination as a child with the orca show at Shamu Stadium in SeaWorld Orlando. He pleaded with his parents to let him question the trainers after the show, and thus began years of letter-writing campaigns to SeaWorld executives begging for guidance into how he could become an orca trainer. His persistence paid off, amazingly, and he eventually became the highest-ranking senior trainer at both the Texas and California parks.

Orcas in the wild are generally not considered a danger to humans. In captivity, however, some have become aggressive, and death and injury are now well-documented. SeaWorld continues to site trainer error in all incidents, because to admit that these otherwise gentle creatures would turn against their human companions would be admitting that conditions are not ideal and that captivity might, in fact, be contributing to aggression. If you consider that these whales learn that humans are their sole source of food, it’s not unreasonable some resentment might develop. Add to that, habitat too small for such an enormous creature, intense boredom, disruption of family units, and mutiny seems downright predictable. But not according to SeaWorld.

Hargrove writes that in spite of SeaWorld’s adamant declaration to the contrary, trainers are told to deprive orcas of food if they do not perform at the expected level: “In accordance with SeaWorld policies, trainers have reduced the amount of fish that a whale needs to eat daily—sometimes by more than two-thirds to remind the orca who provides sustenance at the marine park. It is not done often and it has a mixed record of effectiveness. But it has been part of the trainer’s options for making sure a whale understands that it is best to cooperate.” The company keeps careful records, and thus there is documentation of such deprivation. This form of behavior modification, however, would not go over well with the public, and thus SeaWorld has kept it secret and denies it to this day. Hargrove, however, notes that he himself inflicted this punishment “at the request of a supervisor.”

The training methods are fascinating to read about, and the close calls and tragic interactions between trainers and orcas are horrifying. The take-away from this book as well as others reviewed on this blog is relatively straight-forward: cruelty and abuse take many forms and may be camouflaged as “care.” If you believe that humans truly have dominion over creatures of the earth, then you must believe humans are wise enough to recognize that dominion does not necessarily mean domination. Pope Francis himself has said that dominion is best interpreted as stewardship. Of course, animals would be perfectly fine without our stewardship if we weren’t constantly interfering with the natural order and essentially messing up their world.

SeaWorld’s orca program originated with the kidnapping of whales in the wild and subjecting them to a lifetime of deprivation. The fact that they ceased their hunting of animals thirty-five years ago doesn’t negate the crime. Once they were forced to stop hunting, the executives realized they needed to keep adding to their stock if they were going to grow the Shamu program. And they needed to have the public perceive their use of the whales as “conservation.”

In 2000, SeaWorld embarked on an ambitious program of artificial insemination that has created a new culture of captive-born orcas. Female orcas in the wild are revered matriarchs, respected and obeyed by their extended families. In SeaWorld, some have become baby-makers, repeatedly artificially impregnated, often at very young ages, and then separated from their calves too soon. (Again, SeaWorld adamantly denies this latter charge. Hargrove, however, sites several examples he himself witnessed.)

The PR battle will continue, and SeaWorld has the motivation of dropping stock prices to keep the war going. The hope is that the corporation doesn’t begin developing parks overseas in places where public outcry over misuse and abuse may not be as prevalent. The best way to fight, however, is with the pocketbook. If people stopped patronizing such animal venues, they would eventually go away. For it is only through consumer reaction that advocacy for captive wild animals succeeds. Of course, when you hurt the bottom line of a corporation like SeaWorld (owned by Busch Entertainment Corporation), the company will respond aggressively.

SeaWorld and other similar animal parks claim that they are educating the public about creatures that most of us would never see. Education about animals is important, but we do not need to learn about whales by watching them waste away in a large swimming pool, or by doing tricks to entertain us. There are books, movies, and whale watches to consider. And if you are never splashed by “Shamu,” so be it. Perhaps some things are just not meant to be.

Tara's Legacy: a reveiw of LESSONS FROM TARA

Pub Date: July 21, 2015
Available for pre-order

Lessons from Tara: Life Advice from the World’s Most Brilliant Dog

David Rosenfelt

Readers of Mr. Rosenfelt’s books already know his devotion to dogs, especially to Tara, the inspiration behind his work with his wife, Debbie Myers, rescuing dogs, and the namesake of their foundation. Without Tara, Rosenfelt tells us, they would likely never have become the nutty dog people they are now; Dogtripping, his book recounting their trip across country with three RVs full of rescued dogs, would certainly never have been written or experienced; and he’d likely be getting a full night’s sleep every night instead of being buried in a pig pile of dogs on his bed.

And of course, life would not have been nearly as rich and rewarding. So, as another tribute to Tara, Rosenfelt has written this lovely, funny, poignant collection of lessons learned, not just from Tara, but from many of the souls they have rescued over the years. The credit for all of the lives saved he gives to Tara: 

“The lessons in this book are the ones I learned from Tara and her friends. She never met any of them, but she saved every one of their lives.

“And I am forever grateful.”

The lessons are simple, seemingly transparent, but carry with them a deep understanding of what it means to love. David and Debbie have given their home and their hearts to all sorts of dogs, but primarily to seniors, who have only a few months or years left. Rosenfelt’s mission is to allow these forgotten canines to spend their final days in a home with human compassion and loads of canine companionship, rather than to slowly waste away in a shelter. Obviously, this means constant and expensive vet visits and knowledge that the next one may be the last. Possibly one of the most important lessons Tara taught David was how to cry, because doing what they do, he must accept the sorrow of saying goodbye again and again and again.

Dog lovers will relish the wit and wisdom in these pages, while perhaps being thankful to share a bed with only one or two creatures:

“…[T]here are always at least four dogs on the bed, though it can get as high as six. The regulars are Wanda, the mastiff; Jenny, a lab mix; Cheyenne, a Great Pyrenees; and Boomer, Cheyenne’s sister. And these are not small dogs; they represent a little more than four hundred pounds of dog….”

I for one will never complain again about being stuck in a fetal position all night when Katrina is sleeping horizontally across the bottom of our bed, while Sophie and Nellie the cat are occupying the middle, and sharing part of my pillow. The thought of tossing a Great Pyrenees and a mastiff into the mix is unfathomable. Kudos to Debbie and David! And thanks to another wonderful book, the legacy of Tara lives on.

Wild Horse: review of LAST CHANCE MUSTANG

 (Hardcover; $26.99, 320 pp., with photos. Pub date: June 26, 2015)

In truth, this title could be applied to every last remaining mustang in this country. The wild horse has been hounded, abused, maligned, and mistreated for centuries now, and still is subjected to the most horrific treatment by the agency in charge of its well-being. If ever an argument against government intervention could be justly made, the US Bureau of Land Management would be the poster child. Instead of protecting the mustang herds, they have repeatedly caved to special interest groups, and allowed these horses to be brutalized, all the while insisting that they are in fact helping them. It would be almost funny, if there weren’t so many unnecessary casualties involved.

The BLM has been overseeing the rounding up and adoptions of mustangs, and has come under justified fire for mishandling of those tasks. On the surface, adoption of wild horses and burros would seem to be a good thing. (The book and movie project Unbranded utilized adopted horses for their trek across the West.) But unfortunately, too many of the adoptions are either to kill buyers or to well-intentioned but incompetent owners.

Samson was one particularly unlucky horse when Mitchell Bornstein first met him. By then he had suffered six years of violence at the hands of men who believed the only way to tame him was to beat him down. He had been a six-year-old stallion, part of a large herd in Nevada, when he was captured in a helicopter roundup that decimated his herd and catapulted him into a world of neglect and abuse. His response was to fight first and ask questions later. Samson is truly not one to stand by and take it. For that, Bornstein can’t help but admire him. But the horse’s intense anger, fear, and hardened spirit turn him into a lethal creature whose destiny seems clearly to be the slaughterhouse.

Bornstein is not only a phenomenal horseman, but a compelling and talented chronicler. His tale of Samson’s journey out of the hell he was in and toward redemption is edge-of-your-seat writing.  Working with traumatized horses is a specialty of Bornstein’s, who is also a lawyer.  “Other than the fact that he could send me to my maker,” he writes of his first encounter with the wild horse, “Samson was no different from any of my legal clients: threatening, standoffish, and wearing a huge chip on his shoulder.” As with anyone who is willing to put his life on the line to achieve success, Bornstein is not lacking in confidence. And it is that confidence that was imperative in dealing with a horse like Samson. His first meeting with the mustang in a dark, dank and dirty stall, demonstrates this. Slowly, the horse allows this potential enemy into his space, and even allows him to touch his shoulder. There is a breakthrough then, but as Bornstein learns, Samson’s many demons are always just beneath the surface:

“For perhaps the first time in his life, he felt something other than the bullwhip’s lacerating blows, the lariat’s choking constriction, and the pain associated with repetitive blunt-force trauma.

“Then, everything changed. Without warning, he leapt straight up and slapped at the concrete floor with his right hoof, the sound of it like a bolt of lightning cleaving pine. He spun around and shot out two rapid-fire, dual-legged hind-end kicks at me, both missing my chest by inches, the wind from them fluttering my shirt.

“He turned and stared, this time with the look of a man about to turn into a werewolf. Get out while you still can.

“I backed out slowly and slipped through the door. Samson was still staring at me, breathing like Darth Vader. What had happened?

“Then I heard the sound of an approaching helicopter….”  

Samson’s life in the wild was certainly not an easy one. As a stallion, he was probably repeatedly challenged by other males, and had to fight hard to keep his mares and his herd. But he couldn’t fight the helicopters and cruel men with ear twitches, bullwhips, and other means of torture. Fortunately for him, there was one person who was willing to risk all—career, love, life—to save him.

Talking Animals: Review of ALEX & ME

In Chaser we learned about a border collie who has mastered the names of over 1000 toys, and who also shows an understanding of syntax and semantics, as well as definitions. Chaser is able, in a sense, to communicate with her human. But it is a one-way communication, because of course, Chaser cannot speak. That is, she cannot speak our language.

Alex, an African Grey parrot, on the other hand, could participate in dialogue with his humans. He could also add and understand concepts of equivalency, and even came to understand zero up to a point. In many cases, he taught himself words and ideas; for example, calling an apple a “banerry,” possibly combining banana and cherry.

In Irene Pepperberg’s fascinating memoir about her work and life with Alex (Alex & Me), she is determined to discover if a parrot can do more than just parrot. Is there more than mimicry involved when the bird speaks? The answer is a resounding yes, of course, as Alex demonstrates repeatedly. He not only uses language for his demands (“Want nut!”) but to emote (“I’m sorry!” “Calm down!” and “I love you”). And as he demonstrates, a creature with a brain the size of a shelled walnut can develop and learn at about a five-year-old human’s level. 

But Alex may have been an exceptionally bright parrot— a bird brainiac. His parrot colleagues who joined him in some of the testing and training were noticeably insecure around their brilliant labmate. Alex often interjected his own criticisms during their training sessions, telling one bird to “say better,” when he felt he was mumbling his answers.

Alex also had an advanced sense of humor, and obviously enjoyed messing with his humans. When he was bored or simply out of sorts, he made it clear he wanted no part of the curriculum and would simply turn his back on his trainers. When he was feeling particularly puckish, he’d purposely misspeak, or would insist his humans obey his many commands. The students who worked with him called themselves “Alex’s Slaves.”

There are many questions surrounding the study of animal communication and cognition. Are we barking up the right tree? Should we be studying how animals speak, rather than teaching them to learn our language?

And we are also still fighting against the Great Chain of Being concept, perpetuated by the belief that man is God’s creation and inherently superior to all other life forms. So long as we believe humans are the center of the universe, animals will take a back seat, and studies of animal intelligence will also be met with some resistance. The thirty-year-long relationship Dr. Pepperberg had with Alex ended too soon, but spanned a change in the scientific community towards acceptance of language and communication in animals. 

Alex’s accomplishments are truly breathtaking. Dr. Pepperberg’s memoir was published in 2008, but it is timeless in presenting seemingly irrefutable evidence not just of avian intelligence but emotion as well. Her plea, and much of her work, has been devoted to protecting pet parrots from the devastating effects of isolation and boredom resulting from ignorant and incompetent owners. A child placed in a closet during his formative years would be considered abused, and rightly so. A bird placed in the same circumstances is also abused. It’s best for them to be left in the wild, but since there are so many sold as pets these days, at least they should be given every opportunity to thrive intellectually.

Thanks to the so-called Clever Hans case, there are still critics of Dr. Pepperberg’s work, as well as the work of other scientists studying animal intelligence. It’s an uncomfortable concept for some folks to accept that the animal they are eating, caging, capturing, or manipulating may be as intelligent as their pre-schooler. Books such as Alex & Me point out in no uncertain terms that there is much to be learned and discovered about our fellow creatures. Ignorance and egoism seem to be uniquely human traits; intelligence, however, is not.

Uphill Climb: review of THE MOUNTAINTOP SCHOOL FOR DOGS (a novel)

 

This is a story about hope. Not the trite, Hallmark-style of hope, but the sense of pushing up from loss or failure or trauma with eyes forward and tail held high. Although the subtitle mentions second chances, the characters here—human and non—are actually dealing with third or fourth chances.

The novel concerns Evie, a young woman wearing L. L. Bean clothe, and carrying a load of psychic baggage. Although she knows nothing about dogs, she applies for the position of dog trainer at the Sanctuary—the school for rescued and often unadoptable dogs—and is accepted. She’s an avid reader and eccentric student, memorizing the dog books she carries in her backpack, and organizing her own thoughts alphabetically. She soon discovers, however, that the dog books are useless when dealing with the reality of rescued dogs, and unceremoniously burns them all.

She arrives mid-winter at the inn at the base of the mountain, where Mrs. Auberchon, the innkeeper and also the Warden of the Sanctuary, greets her with open disdain. She distrusts this girl who seems to be the product of East Coast elitists, and questions the sanity of the Sanctuary staff for taking her on. But then she watches Evie work magic on a dog suffering from compulsive pacing. Something in this young woman is able to connect with these damaged creatures.

Evie finds herself dealing with a pack of neurotic animals and humans who all seem to have reasons to forget their pasts, but who, like her, find it tough to move forward.  The pacing dog was one; the greyhound who refused to run—or even move—was another. She is given a “class” of students whose quirks and issues she chronicles, working to find the trick that will free them from the prisons of their difficult pasts. And in so doing, she finds her own salvation, or at least a glimpse of it.

Under her category of Learning, she writes: “A new male, a greyhound called Alfie, feels that coming to class means curling up in a corner and being still. When I explained that this wasn’t allowed, he bristled and showed me his teeth. I don’t have notes on him yet, but I know he was a racer. He thought he had the right to never move again. Also, he was not interested in learning this thing called housebreaking. Did I know where he used to live? He used to live in a stable. I hated it there, he was telling me, but that’s who I am.”

The author calls this a “novel with dogs,” but the dogs are not simply accessories. Their stories are as vital and riveting as their human counterparts’ are, and completely believable. The prose is exquisite: at times hilarious, and other times poignant. Like so many of the orphans in the story, this book is a keeper.

This title is now available in paperback.

A Soaring Ride: H IS FOR HAWK, by Helen Macdonald

 This is a book first about death.  And then about life, or a life regained.

As of the second chapter of this incredible memoir, Helen Macdonald’s father has died, unexpectedly and too soon, as with most deaths of loved ones. A professional photographer as an adult, as a child he’d been an amateur plane spotter, watching and photographing as World War II fighters flew over England. He seemed to spend his life looking upwards, and Macdonald believes he was likely the inspiration for her own addiction to watching—in her case birds rather than “aeroplanes.”

Additionally, it’s a book about a goshawk, an emblem of wildness and predatory expertise, who is restrained and tamed by Macdonald. The hawk’s beauty and humor are admirable, and yet as Macdonald reminds herself, her reason for being is hunting.  She is, Macdonald writes, “thirty ounces of death in a feathered jacket.”

Helen Macdonald became fascinated with hawks and falconry as a child, reading T. H. White’s The Sword and the Stone wherein King Arthur as the Wart takes on the form of a hawk as part of his instruction under Merlyn. And then she read White’s The Goshawk, and the seed for her possession of what is considered to be the least tamable of hawks was planted.

It took her father’s death and her spiral into despair to prompt her towards actual acquisition of a goshawk. She was already an accomplished falconer, and had studied and taught about this ancient and masculine sport for a few years. But the goshawk presented some unique problems that nearly undermined what stability she had left, as she teetered toward full-scale depression in her grief.

So much of this book explores T. H. White’s eccentricity and the reasons behind his determination to manage the goshawk in his care, as well as his utter incapability to do just that. Macdonald’s own emotional upheaval alternates with her exploration of White’s life and writing in a strangely relevant circular dance. The result is something truly brilliant. Macdonald launches her hawk and her reader together up into a soaring feathery ride that you will not forget. A magnificent book by a poet, naturalist, philosopher, and artist.

For more information on how to purchase this book, go to: http://booksforanimallovers.com/new-releases/396-h-is-for-hawk.html

Books with Benefits

Many animal books are inextricably tied to rescue organizations or projects. Every time Books for Animal Lovers purchases copies of certain titles from publishers, a portion of the sale goes to those organizations. And every time a customer purchases a copy from us, we also make a donation, thus doubling the benefits.

Below are just a sampling of books that give back. For more organizations, go to our About Us section and see a list: http://booksforanimallovers.com/content/4-about-us.

• Stephen McGarva (RESCUE AT DEAD DOG BEACH) has given voice and inspiration to many rescue organizations in Puerto Rico, including www.Allsatorescue.org. Their work is turning the tide on a heartbreaking situation.  

• The beagle is the most-often used breed in cosmetic and household product testing, but the Beagles Freedom Project helps place those lucky ones who are released from their imprisonment. Author Teresa Rhyne—THEDOG LIVED (AND SO DID I) and THE DOGS WERE RESCUED (AND SO WAS I)—has donated time, money, and a lot of heart to this organization. See their site at www.beaglefreedomproject.org.

• A STREET CAT NAMED BOB, and THE WORLD ACCORDING TO BOB author, James Bowen, is working to create cat cafés  throughout London. His fundraiser can be found at https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/bob-s-world-cat-cafe-fundraiser.

• Jo Anne Normile (SAVING BABY) created two hugely successful horse rescue organizations: CANTER, the first organization to take racehorses from the track to safe havens, and Saving Baby Equine Charity (www.savingbaby.org). She’s on the board of other equine charities as well.

All animal lovers can contribute regularly to the Humane Society of the US, the ASPCA and state chapters, as well as regional and local rescue and adoption organizations. There are volunteer opportunities at every turn, either through day-to-day operations, providing foster care, or participating in political events.

Does your favorite animal charity have events where Books for Animal Lovers could participate? Please let me know. Some of our largest donations are a result of paying vendor participation fees. And we are always excited to meet new animal-book lovers. 

Email me Jeremy@booksforanimallovers.com and let me know about your favorite animal charity.