My initial introduction to the zoo keeping world involved precision and studied concentration in the invertebrate house. It was a stifling hot environment to be spending the autumn and early winter. A few morning checks resulted in hurried searches for missing spiders or scorpions before the zoo opened to the public.
One public encounter with one of our beautiful bird-eating spiders (they are NOT to be called tarantulas I was taught) led to the spider being flung on the floor. The abdomen of a large spider is incredibly vulnerable and will split on impact. This particular one had been donated to the zoo by the Royal Mail after she had been posted to someone as some form of threat. She was very calm and safe to handle and I was horrified to see her cast aside onto the concrete floor. Thankfully we had the fully staffed veterinary hospital on site.
No time or expense was spared up there and every effort would always be made to save the lives of our charges; big or small.
I couldn't quite believe that it would be possible to use microsurgery to repair the 1cm tear in the spider's abdomen. The vets were determined to give it a try, and I was centre stage holding her gently on the operating table as they went about their work. I used the handling skills I had been taught by my colleagues to hold her upside down and as still as possible while her abdomen was stitched back together with tiny precision stitches. The vets explained to me that the spider would hopefully recover from this trauma and be fully repaired once she shed this damaged skin in a few months time. The whole experience that day was amazing. I felt accepted and trusted as a member of staff, rather than an enthusiastic observer. The spider did indeed recover and shed her damaged skin safely and was named Joanna after yours truly.
I felt very honoured to play a full part in the team of 5 working in the tiniest section in the park. Cleaning the windows outside would often lead to a morning encounter with the elephant keepers as they took their young charges out for their morning walk. I clearly remember the rush of excitement as the jingling sound of the keepers' keys preceded the arrival of Gita, the young female, striding along with her entourage. I learned to contain my excitement and stay calm. Zoo keepers are approached day in day out by overly excited visitors so the last thing these guys needed was for a new keeper to start behaving likewise.
Over the days I developed a rapport with the elephant keepers. Trust is such an important element of working in this field. Their role at that moment was to exercise and stimulate their young charge with a walk while the zoo was quiet. They needed to trust each other to get through each day safely, and they knew that I would always keep a respectful distance unless invited to come over for a closer look and a chat. I was becoming so immersed in this world that I was determined to stay sensible and learn as much as I could from the people around me.
My rotation with the invertebrates was coming to an end and I was about to emerge from the warmth into the rather more chilly surroundings of the diving birds section in January ....
