Category Archives: Shadow on Tour

All about my trips

Shad does the Isle of Wight Zoo

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A huge roaring tiger was leaping off the roof towards us.  Of course it never actually reached us because it was made of plastic!  It’s the first thing I saw as we pulled up to the Isle of Wight Zoo on this sunny clear winter day.  I was chomping at the bit to go inside because, although the zoo has a variety of animals, it specialises in tigers and lemurs, both beautiful and intriguing creatures that a sassy cat like me can relate to.  It’s a family-run zoo built within the ruins of a Victorian Fort constructed to guard Sandown’s coast and its fundamental goals revolve around care, conservation and education.

We wandered in and caught sight of the black and white ruffed lemurs with their paws spread out and their bellies on display, laying on a rock in a sunny spot of their enclosure.  They lifted their heads lazily and watched me go by as if I was impudent for disturbing their sunbathing.  There were some lively ring-tailed lemurs, black lemurs and red ruffed lemurs, and the slightly more timid grey mouse lemur and white-fronted brown lemurs.  I had no idea there were so many types of lemur!  The mongoose lemur (named McLovin) was originally taken from the wild by illegal traders and sold as a pet to a Polish sailor.  I’m so glad he ended up here at the Isle of Wight Zoo where the keepers care deeply for this lost little soul and make every effort to encourage his natural behaviour and enrich his environment.

Like McLovin, many of the animals at this zoo have their stories.  Some have been rejected by their prides or family units, others rescued from circuses or animal performance groups, or liberated from lives of stress and misery.  Natasha has visited this zoo before and is friendly with the keepers, so she gave us the inside scoop on the histories of me of the big cats.  Rajiv the tiger (an Indian/Siberian cross) was bred by a circus organisation in the UK and sent to the USA to be a ‘celebrity animal’, posing with people and opening hotels.  I can only speculate as to what unkind means his owners used to keep him pacified during the times he was on show.  He was apparently kept in a concrete pen and suffered chemical burns to his elbows because his owners would hose-out the pen with him in it.  His life at the zoo is a thousand times better than the life he had before.

Zena the white tiger suffered with eye problems for many years due to the inbreeding history of these animals and had her right eye removed due to glaucoma in 2006, which is why breeding white tigers is not ethical practise.   When we saw her, she was parading up and down her enclosure with a muddy wet tummy, having splashed around in the puddles and got that fluffy white coat of hers all dirty!  She is amazingly 17 years old and enjoying her retirement with her sister Zia who you can see in the photograph flopped out on a rock.

Casper is the white lion you see in this iconic pose as he stands on top of the rocky hillock in his enclosure surveying the surrounding terrain.  Lions are under threat all over Africa as they lose habitat and compete with humans and Casper has played an active role in helping to raise awareness of their plight by taking part in a project for Lionaid.  What a star!  He had quite the entourage as we looked up at him in awe and he went all alpha-male on us, puffing out his chest, shaking his magnificent mane and grunting.  We were doing a bit of grunting ourselves after holding awkward positions for ages waiting to get some good shots of Casper so we decided to go to the café for some lunch.  As we sat comparing images, my cat instincts kicked in and I felt eyes on me.  I looked around to discover we weren’t alone in the café as a pen full of degus was checking me out.  I gave them a flick of the tail and a shimmy-wiggle as I trotted out of the door.  Well, you’ve gotta give ‘em something!!

My brazen swagger was nothing compared to the bold strides being taken by Tequila the jaguar.  This striking beast had black spots and rosette-shaped patterns across her coat, a muscular body, robust head and powerful jaw.  She arrived at the zoo in 1999 with some behavioural problems thanks to her less-than-happy experience with an animal entertainment troupe.  However, she now displays natural and healthy behaviour as a result of the care she receives at the zoo.  The jaguar is the third largest feline after the lion and tiger and populations are in rapid decline.  As their habitats decrease in size and richness of wildlife, these poor things are being forced to venture too close to human populations in their desperate search for food and are being killed by farmers and ranchers for attacking the livestock.  So much damage has been done through poaching and deforestation that the road ahead is a tough one and the future of these exceptional cats is bleak, but organisations such as the Wildlife Conservation Society are making efforts to protect jaguar populations and we can only hope that this help has come in time.

I liked this zoo’s ethos and their willingness to take on animals that other zoos may not want because of their age or history.  The keepers know the characteristics and requirements of each individual big cat in their care, down to disposition, sociability, allergy status, food preferences and even the noises they make.  You can read more about the animals on the website.  Meantime, one small domestic short-haired cat, two adult humans and one child made their weary way back to the car with exhausted smiles on their faces for the journey home.

http://www.isleofwightzoo.com/

Shad goes on the water for the first time

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My closest and most daring experience with water to date has always been my mad dash through the shower as John turns it on.  For some reason, I hear the shower door open and the motor start to run and I am overcome with an impulse to hurtle on to the shower floor and leap across it before the water hits.  But my encounters with water took a fresh turn on Sunday when John and I ventured across the seas with John’s daughter Natasha and her little boy.  When I say ‘the seas’, I mean the bit known as the Solent between coastal Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, which from my perspective was like an ocean.

We arrived in Portsmouth, first in the queue for the ferry, and I felt like Jack Sparrow in Pirates, all villainous and swash-buckling, ready to board the Black Pearl.  I got so excited I had to excuse myself for a moment and use the facilities.  The ferry arrived at port and it looked like a giant rusted metal rectangle floating on the shimmering surface of the water.  I looked resolute at John and he smiled reassuringly as he drove the car on to the boat and parked at the front.  I stayed in my travel basket until we found a seat upstairs and got our cameras out.  As we made our way to the outer deck, I could smell the salty sea air and hear the water swell as the Black Pearl parted the waves.

The Solent was calm and a murky turquoise green and the sky was blue with the odd puffy greyish-white cloud overhead.  An aircraft carrier rested motionless at the harbour, speed boats powered past us and huge cargo ships sat ominously in the distance, their boxy silhouettes a reminder of the other world that exists at sea.  The mainland got smaller and the Spinnaker Tower disappeared into the distance as we cruised towards the roughly diamond-shaped island that is known as an area of outstanding natural beauty.  We soon arrived at Fishbourne, disembarked and set off through the narrow pot-holed country lanes and rural landscape towards the dramatic chalky coastline on the other side of the island at Sandown, where I caught sight of our destination.

http://www.wightlink.co.uk/

Shad does the franco-english Marwell tour

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Have you seen a ‘hippopotame pygmée’ or a ‘singe’ recently?  You would have, if you’d been with John and I at Marwell Wildlife Park this weekend.  Two of John’s friends were visiting from across the Channel and we decided to give them a guided tour of the wonders of the natural world at Marwell.  They came from Marseille which is the second largest city in France after Paris.  Marseille is an urban area with a large population and a rugged rocky coastal landscape, a far cry from the wooded hills and rolling countryside of Winchester where Marwell is situated.  There were 5 of us altogether, including 2 people who spoke both English and French and were able to translate, and one person who spoke French only.  John speaks a little German but that didn’t really help, and I speak cat which I consider a universal language, but that didn’t help much either!!

Have you worked out those French words yet?  The first one is pygmy hippopotamus, and we were lucky enough to get a clear view of a mother with her little female calf who was born on 13th December 2013.  The baby is part of the European Endangered Breeding Programme and is called Gloria, a name chosen by patrons of the zoo and members of the public following an online vote.  ‘Singe’ (pronounced ‘sairnge’) is French for monkey, and there was plenty of monkeying around as we watched the Colobus monkeys strike a pose for the camera and swing across the branches with their long arms and tails.

There was much guffawing at the giraffe area because these tall elegant creatures with big beautiful eyes looked so demure, but when they munched on their dinners, the prolonged chewing action combined with large elf-like ears made an amusing sight.  I held my tail high as a friendly greeting and made chirrup noises to communicate my appreciation of their awesomeness, but I’m small compared to them and I don’t think they saw me.

Unlike the big cats, which spotted me instantly, may be because they smelt me coming.  Not that I have some sort of body odour problem I hasten to add, but more due to the feline ability to convey identity and mood through scent.  Marwell has taken in a new male Amur tiger called Bagai who is 17 months old and is settling into his new environment before being introduced to Milla, a female Amur tiger.  It is hoped that they will produce offspring to help save this highly endangered species which is on the brink of extinction.  Shockingly, the evil poachers continue to trap and kill these magnificent beasts along with many other animals who now struggle to survive in their native environments.  My thanks go to the conservationists across the world and animal welfare groups such as PETA, IFAW and the WSPCA for their efforts in promoting the wellbeing of animals and giving them a voice.

2013 was a busy year for the keepers at Marwell who also welcomed a giant anteater baby born in November.  Little Rojo seemed content and was fully occupied when we saw him in his enclosure with his mum,  digging at a branch with his long fore-claws, looking for insects.  These curious looking creatures are listed as ‘vulnerable’ in the wild and have thick necks and a tubular snout which ends in a tiny mouth opening and nostrils.  They apparently have poor eyesight but a sense of smell 40 times more sensitive than that of humans.

John’s French friends were visibly impressed at how well the animals were cared for and how keen the Brits are to keep animals as happy and healthy as possible.  They went home with lots of photos and good memories from their trip to the zoo, and I improved my language skills and did my bit for anglo-french relations.  So au revoir, c’est la vie and bon voyage!

Proud Cub in the Setting Sun

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This is one of the Snow Leopard cubs born in the spring at Marwell Zoo. Myself and John have watched them grow this year from fur balls into beautiful cats

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Shad does the New Forest Wildlife Park

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John took me on a forest adventure this weekend to a wildlife park near Ashurst in Southampton.  It’s part of the New Forest, an ecologically rich area of grassland, heathland and woodland in the south-east of England which provides habitats for all kinds of rare and unusual plants, insects, birds and mammals.  The wildlife park is set deep in the forest and surrounded by tall trees that looked to me like giant fortresses topped with emerald-green and nut-brown foliage.  I could feel the eyes of the multitude of shy forest creatures that were hiding in the trees watching me as I trotted along next to John.

We followed the moss-veiled trails that led to some animals that I don’t often get the chance to photograph.  Like the big beefy bison that was lazily munching on some grass.  He appeared peaceful and unconcerned but I had no doubt that one insolent flick of my tail might cause him to lower his solid horned head and charge towards us.  I was pleased to see the lynx, with its short tail and tufts of black hair on its ear-tips, it had large paws and all the characteristics of a finely-tuned stealth survivor.  Then there were the gregarious and industrious giant otters, highly sociable animals who live in extended family groups.  They were most entertaining, sleeping happily together in huddles and playing noisily, barking, snorting and whistling at each other with enthusiasm.

All of these animals are highly endangered, struggling to adapt to habitat loss and fighting for their lives when they are hunted, the bison for their meat and skins, the otters for their velvety pelts and the lynx for their fluffy patterned fur coats.  Despite the humans that are willing to inflict suffering and even wipe out an entire species for the sake of fashion or status, there are many more humans willing to protect what nature has provided us and teach others to do the same.  The New Forest Wildlife Park actively promotes the conservation of animals through rescue work as well as participation in breeding programmes to protect the future of many endangered species, from our native orphaned and injured otters, owls and deer, to the European bison, the little harvest mouse and the rarely seen Scottish wildcat.

This natural forest environment was the perfect area for us to spot much local indigenous wildlife and, when I stopped to listen, I could hear the occasional drumming woodpecker or the scurrying of a squirrel crunching twigs and rustling leaves as it busied itself looking for its next meal.  Also looking for meals were the birds, like the bold robin who landed right in front of us hoping for a bit of John’s sandwich.  Don’t worry, regular readers know I like birds and I’m well in control of my hunting instincts, so the birds are safe with me (although John keeps an eye on me as a precaution)!

http://www.newforestwildlifepark.co.uk/

Shad does Tangmere Military Aviation Museum

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Situated at the former Battle of Britain RAF airfield in West Sussex, the museum is home to a number of historic aircraft and exhibits and is a fitting tribute to those who flew and served from Tangmere during its active past.  Its purpose is to promote public awareness of the UK’s military aviation heritage and serve as a memorial to the air men and women who gave their lives in the service of this country.

 

I tried to imagine what it must have been like for the pilots of the Spitfires as they headed towards Dunkirk in the autumn of 1940.  Perhaps the growling sound of the Rolls-Royce engine and morale boosting government propaganda filled them with confidence for a cast-iron victory.  Perhaps this newly designed powerful fighter hid apprehension and fear at the thought of leaving their pals and kinfolk at home for situations unknown.  Sadly, we cats also faced the horror of war as many family pets were killed during those dark days due to misconceptions about what was the patriotic and humane thing to do.  The slaughter of animals was also apparently driven by a panic-fuelled government who even allowed one unfortunate woman to be fined £5 (the equivalent of around £230 in today’s money) for giving bread to her pet white mice.  This information is from a book called ‘Bonzo’s War: Animals Under Fire’ about the animal experience in World War II.

 

John is the military enthusiast, not me, so he took these pictures and can probably name each of the machines we saw.  I might not know what they’re called, but I know that each engine and instrument and technological advancement created in the development of military aviation was spurred by conflict that affected the lives of humans and animals in countless ways.   I count myself a lucky pussy-cat to be living in the safety and comfort of my home on the south coast of England, pondering the issues of the day and writing my musings in a blog, for smart and discerning readers like you to read and share.

Shad does Paradise Wildlife Park

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The weatherman said it would be sunny and dry on Sunday so despite the cold, John and I wrapped ourselves up in woolly scarves and hats and headed outdoors.  As we cruised along the M25 that morning, there was not a glimpse of sun in sight.  But we were past the point of no return and had already paid £2 at the Dartford Tunnel, so we decided to press on, in true British fashion!  We found a nice spot in the car park and dashed out of the car with full bladders in need of relief before standing in the short queue to get our tickets.  A large grey fluffy sausage on a stick caught my eye and it turned out to be a boom pole with a microphone attached to the end.  It was being carried by a small camera crew who were with a group of people that included a very minor celebrity, David Van Day from Dollar, taking the private tour experience.

We wandered in through the gates to an enclosure close by and I felt the spirit of the wilderness as we came face to face with the grey wolves.  There are apparently almost 40 subspecies of wild dogs including Arctic and Arabian wolves and the dingo, and they occupy a range of habitats including Arctic tundra, prairies and forests.  Young grey wolves are born blind and deaf in dens and rely on their mothers as well as support from the pack for warmth and food.  Grey wolves once had the largest natural distribution of any mammal except humans but unfortunately they can no longer claim this record as they have been lost from much of their former lands.

Opposite the wolves was one of my most handsome and dignified big cat cousins, the white tiger.  Despite the grey skies and drizzle, I felt all warm and fuzzy inside as I gazed in appreciation at this beautiful beast.  The white tiger’s history is sad and thorny because they have been in-bred by unscrupulous breeders out to make money from exhibiting them and they have sadly suffered physical abnormalities as a result.  They are rare in the wild and I don’t know about this particular tiger’s past, but its cream tones and chocolate brown stripes made it unusual and stunning to look at.  We watched him sitting calmly in his enclosure when one of the camels across the way started snorting and honking and it caught the tiger’s attention, so he trotted off to the other side of his paddock to investigate.

The camels were amusing, with their long knobbly legs, goofy teeth and gangly stance, and I heard a passer-by crack a joke about one of them getting the ‘ump!  Oh dear.  These camels had two humps which store fat for use as energy when food is scarce.  A camel can go a week or more without water and can last several months without food.  But you’d think the meerkats wouldn’t last five minutes without food the way they tucked into their grub when the keeper was feeding them.  These happy little creatures were a pleasure to watch and clearly enjoyed living in groups, chirping and grumbling at each other, playing together and cuddling.  Here’s a picture of one of them warming his belly under the heat lamp.

John and I needed to warm up too so we sat in the Tiger Tree Café for a while to shelter from the rain and dry off a bit.  Don’t worry, John didn’t get his belly out!  The café overlooked the tiger enclosure which contained 3 handsome tigers who were quite frisky, hopping across their wooden climbing frame and teasing each other.  I could hear these little low-pitched rumbles as they constantly chatted with each other, playfully growling and huffing.

The highlight had to be the white lion pride which consisted of a noble majestic male with full mane, 2 females and a lovely young cub who was born earlier this year. The pride sat together in their enclosure looking relaxed and contented whilst the male prowled back and forth, letting the onlookers know that he was in charge. He looked at me as he ambled towards the front of the enclosure where I was standing and I puffed my little chest out as much as could, so he climbed up the rock hill and thundered this almighty roar that reverberated in my ears. I imagined how that booming noise must rumble across the safari plains of his native environment of South Africa, letting all predators know that he is the king of the jungle. He looked just like Simba from the Lion King.

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Shad walks along Chichester Canal

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Here are a few pictures that John and I took during a leisurely stroll along the Chichester Canal recently.  It was a cold clear day and the sun reflected brightly off the water as people walked their dogs and couples hand-in-hand took their morning constitutionals.  I dipped a paw in just to get a feel for the chilly water and froze in wonder as I caught sight of something small, chestnut-brown and furry.  The chubby little wet face gazed at me for a moment and disappeared under the water before I had time to whip my camera out.  Apparently the canal has a well-established water vole population which is protected by law and reliant on the diverse vegetation along the banks to survive.

Chichester Canal is designated as a site of nature conservation importance due to the value of its wildlife and some sections have reed-beds that are a scarce type of habitat in the county and of importance for certain species of birds.  Canal construction started in 1819 and connected Portsmouth to London mainly for the transport of coal.  In 1906 the last commercial cargo of shingle was carried along the canal before it was abandoned.  Happily, the Chichester Canal Restoration Project aims to restore navigation through the canal and volunteers from the Chichester Ship Canal Trust operate services such as pleasure-boat trips and a shop to support that aim.

We sat down for a rest on one of the benches, inhaling the fresh air and listening to the sounds of the creatures that live along the canal, like the croaking toads and the pretty black and yellow bumble-bees.  My ears were swiveling in every direction as the long grass rustled and the dragonflies whizzed by, their large transparent wings beating swiftly.  I like dragonflies because they eat mosquitos, flies and wasps, some of my least favourite organisms.  John had a chuckle because I can move each ear independently of the other and he seems to find that amusing!  But these super-evolved ear-flaps of mine can judge within 3 inches the location of a sound being made a yard away.  No wonder my tiger senses were tingling!

Shad does the local village scout fireworks

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Bonfire Night is an annual event to commemorate the actions of Guy Fawkes on 5thNovember 1605. Its history begins on that date when a group of young men planned to blow up the Houses of Parliament to kill the King James I and Members of Parliament who were making life difficult for Catholics. The conspirators stashed 36 barrels of explosives in a cellar under the House of Lords but the plot was foiled. Guy Fawkes was in the cellar when the authorities arrested them and he and his accomplices were rather unpleasantly executed.

Celebrating the fact that the king had survived the attempt on his life, people lit bonfires around London, and soon the observance of the failed Gunpowder Plot of 1605 became legally enforced across the country. It was compulsory to celebrate the thwarted plot until 1859 and throughout Britian today people commemorate the capture of Guy Fawkes with bonfires and fireworks and by burning an effigy of Guy.

It seems like a bizarre tradition to me, but it is perplexingly popular, despite being expensive and arguably commercially driven.  Calls to firefighting services often triple on Bonfire Night and one study showed an increase in the concentration of toxic chemicals (in particular dioxin and furan, in case you’re wondering) in the air after Bonfire Night celebrations. It is important to remember that fireworks are enjoyed by some people but can be a source of anxiety for others and for animals too. Most animals fear the unusual sounds and would prefer to be indoors where the booming is muffled and they can hide somewhere like under some bedding or behind the sofa. Cats and dogs and small mammals should be kept in a safe and secure environment because the racket of fireworks can spook them and make them run off. It’s also best to ignore an animal that’s fretting (unless of course they’re hurting themselves) because their fearful state can cause them to react unexpectedly.  Some thoughtful humans have put law in place to protect us animals and it is illegal for anyone under 18 to possess a firework in a public place or to cause any unnecessary suffering to a captive or domestic animal.

John attended the local scout group’s fireworks display recently which had been postponed from the week before due to inclement weather conditions. They put on a good show, safely and responsibly, and the families in attendance appeared to enjoy the hullabaloo of the pops and whistles and the dramatic effects of the crackling comets and glittering stars.  John said the children were waving their sparklers and everyone was gazing in awe at the dazzling shapes and showers of endless colour variations. Unlike many of my feline friends, I’m strangely curious about the banging noise of fireworks and I like to follow the trajectory of the brightly coloured lights.  But John took these pretty pictures while I stayed at home, sitting on the window-sill watching the vivid hues of colour fizz and sizzle across the night sky.

Shad does Remembrance Sunday in Bognor

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Remembrance Day is observed in many countries across the world as a way for people to reminisce about the members of their armed forces who have died in the line of duty. Also known as Poppy Day or Armistice Day, it marks the moment when warring forces agreed to stop fighting World War 1, at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11thmonth.  Apparently, King George V initiated a 2 minute silence at exactly 11 o’clock to commemorate those who had died for their country in a war that marked the beginning of the use of modern technology in warfare and led to millions of deaths.

Hundreds of people attended the service at Bognor War Memorial on Sunday where poppy wreaths were laid at the foot of the memorial. The poppy is seen as an appropriate colour to symbolise the blood spilled in the war, and poppies bloomed with vigour across some of the worse battlefields of the First World War. I climbed on to John’s shoulders to get a decent view and saw representatives from the Royal British Legion, the armed forces including army, air and sea cadets, and civic leaders, as well as St John Ambulance and the Salvation Army, to name but a few. I looked around during the 2 minutes of silence we observed at 11am and wondered how many untold stories there were in the crowd, stories of grueling boot camps, painful combat experiences, intense loss, inspiring strength, camaraderie, liberty and courage. It’s important to remember those who have given their lives in conflict and I was honoured to pay my respects to the soldiers who have died in battle as part of this tribute to our armed forces.