Not Easter, But Valentines

There are days in life that stand out from the rest, remarkable and unforgettable. This past Saturday was one such magical day for me.

As a birthday present to myself last month, I registered for a VIP Encounter at the Oregon Zoo. I realize that this wouldn’t be everyone’s ideal way to spend a Saturday, but to me, the zoo is a place of rest and never ending fascination. I don’t believe that anyone has to know me very well or for very long before discovering my passion for animals. In the days leading up to the tour, I became increasingly excited. Saturday morning dawned and found me much as a child on Christmas morning. I awoke with the sun and continued to toss and turn in giddy anticipation. Today I am going to meet a giraffe.

Giraffes in particular delight and astound me. They are a miracle of engineering that I believe defy natural selection. Due to their absurdly long necks, the only way that blood can actually make the long trek to the brain is by a special series of valves to prevent gravity from dragging it all back down between heartbeats. Likewise, when the giraffe straddles his front legs wide and dips down his head to drink, the overwhelming rush of blood to the head would be fatal, were it not for a pressure-regulation system in the upper neck. The giraffe has a 2-foot long heart and twice the blood pressure of other large mammals (three times the blood pressure of a human) to power this amazing circulatory system. The giraffe’s extraordinarily thick hide (2 or more inches) serves as a pressure suit to prevent the massive blood pressure from forcing blood out through the capillary walls.

This is no simple creature, but highly developed and highly specialized. If it really is “survival of the fittest,” I’m a bit skeptical about evolution trying so hard to put together an herbivore that defies physics, just to keep the topmost foliage from getting out of hand. Seriously, wouldn’t a bird or a climbing primate or marsupial do just as well, and with less modification? To me, the giraffe speaks volumes about a superbly creative God, and defies the notion that a creature with such intricate systems evolved on its own from the primordial ooze from whence we allegedly sprang.

Returning to my story, I rose early on Saturday morning and prepared for a day which I knew would be potentially amazing. I’ve watched this particular giraffe, Akeem, for many hours, and have longed to get up close to him. The tour description said that we would be feeding treats to Akeem, which was enough to make me pay the $85 fee, even if that was all we got to do. The rest would be gravy.

After arriving at the zoo and walking with two volunteers and the other seven individuals on the tour to the predetermined meeting place with “our” zookeeper, we commenced on a tour of the Africa exhibit, learning fascinating facts along the way. Our first animal contact was to take place at the giraffe barn. I entered into the building just behind the zookeeper, and made a beeline for the window at Akeem’s head level. For some reason I was imagining that he would need to be summoned, to be coaxed over to meet us, but the moment I approached the window, in swung his big, beautiful head in greeting. I was standing face to face with one of the most glorious creatures I’ve ever been privileged to meet. While he is meek, Akeem is anything but wooden. It’s hard to describe, but he radiated a sense of thought and purpose. His eyes were dancing with thoughts unknown. I approached with a handful of alfalfa pellets, and his whiskered and warm lips eagerly scooped them into his mouth, his breath warm on my fingers. It was magical. I looked past his head and my eager eyes traveled down all 16’3” of him to the floor. It’s an impressive sight, believe me. After an all too brief time with Akeem, I reluctantly departed the giraffe barn to continue on and meet other fascinating creatures.





The tour ended after we looped back around to the rhino barn, and went in for a “meet and greet” with Pete, the black rhino. Unbeknownst to me, however, the rhino barn is also the hippo barn, and we were also going to meet the curvaceous hippo gals, Poppy and Bubbles. Could you possibly come up with more dainty names for 2000+ pound hippos? The irony was not lost on me. The keeper called to the plump pachyderms, and they came lumbering up to the gate separating the barn from the hippo habitat. I’m not going to pretend that hippos are the most aesthetically pleasing animals, but I must say that their charm greatly helped to offset other deficiencies… like oral hygiene. These ladies were all about the chow, and immediately propped their many chins against the bars of the gate, and opened up those cavernous mouths in hopes of a snack. We proceeded to toss in slices of fruit, which they occasionally closed their mouths to chew and swallow. We were able to stroke them under their chins, which surprised me given how inherently grouchy and dangerous they are in the wild. These ladies seemed quite happy for the attention, however. I have to admit, though, that I snatched my hand back pretty quickly whenever those massive jaws closed down.







After bidding a fond farewell to Poppy and Bubbles, we proceeded back through the barn to the next paddock, the home of Pete. His keeper called his name loudly, and moments later he appeared at the gate. Pete is an easygoing old guy who seems to like people and enjoys a good scratching. Here’s a side note about rhinos: the “white” and “black” rhino species are really misnomers. White rhinos are called such because of a misinterpretation of the Afrikaans word for “wide”, referring to its wide mouth, used for grazing on grass. The black rhino, while not particularly darker in color, has a narrow mouth and a prehensile upper lip, used for eating leaves, twigs, and woody plants. Pete is of the “black” variety, and up close his lip is just the goofiest thing you can imagine. Unlike the rough leathery body, the lip is smooth and rubbery, and acts almost like a finger as he uses it to scoop up food. We offered him pieces of apple which he maneuvered from our cupped hands using that ridiculous appendage. As often as not, our whole hands would get sucked up into his mouth along with the fruit, but we were not in danger of being bitten. We were, however, in danger of being drowned in slobber. I’m telling you, I was wet up to the elbows!





After a final snapshot or two with Pete and a thorough hand washing, the tour ended and we all went our own ways to enjoy the remainder of the day. If this was where my story ended, if this was the end of my day, I’d have been incandescently happy. But there was more in store for me.

This being the day before Easter, the zoo had a variety of activities for families and kids, including egg hunts and face painting and the like. One thing I had noticed on a flier I was handed as we entered the zoo, was that at 12:45 there was to be a drawing which would allow a few lucky winners the opportunity to hide Easter treats for the elephants. When we left the rhino barn, it was already 12:30, and I had to hustle to find the place where I could enter the contest. After a brief wait, a local radio DJ commenced pulling names from the basket, while I sat down and reviewed the schedule, planning to go see the polar bears receive their goodie baskets. I was shocked when I heard my name called a few minutes later. Are you kidding me?! This morning I got to pet and feed a giraffe, two hippos and a rhino, and now I get to go into the elephant enclosure?? This is unbelievable!
Our group of perhaps twenty winners headed to the back of the elephant barn, and were let into the paddock. I expected that the elephants would have been taken into the barn, and then let out again once we were safely outside. I figured wrong. The three female elephants were lined up obediently at one end of the enclosure, while we proceeded to hide apple and sweet potato pieces in all of the nooks and crannies of the walls or lightly buried in the dirt. The zookeepers encouraged us to challenge the elephants a bit, and I was happy to oblige. (Anyone who has endured my Easter egg hiding skills can relate.)



After we had hidden the loot, the humans were asked to return to one area of the enclosure, and the elephants were then led out to “center stage.” After performing a series of tricks, including lying down, sitting up, and saluting, the ladies were released to look for the food. The keepers then asked if we’d like our pictures taken with an elephant. They had to ask?! They drew a line in the dirt and had us approach one person (or one family) at a time and stand on the line. They would then lead one of the elephants up behind us and have it pose for the shot. I ended up with Chendra, a rather small adult female, in my photo. (She’s the one that makes most visitors say, “Oh, look at the baby!” but she’s actually an adult that was malnourished as a youngster and is consequently maybe 2/3 the size of the other females.) After the picture was taken, I looked over my shoulder and found that she was perhaps 3 feet away from me. Gasp!







When I arrived home, still positively grinning and floating on air, I returned a call from Beth and related the experience to her. Oddly enough, her response was what I had been thinking all day: “Jesus loves you, Lisa!” Throughout the morning as I was able to partake of His glorious creation, and especially when my name was drawn for the elephant experience, I couldn’t help but feel like the Lord was saying, “The doors are open for you today, my love. Come. Experience my creation. Taste and see that I am good.” In the midst of a season in which my faith has felt transient and contrived, this was a welcome blessing indeed.

Jesus speaks to Chris through bears (and through deers in the past) and to Lanette via hearts, but here was my love letter. So for me, this weekend wasn’t so much Easter as it was Valentines Day. Amen.