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Chain-Free Hattisar Project

National Trust for Nature Conservation – Biodiversity Conservation Center Chitwan, Nepal

REPORT

Project completed Jan 10, 2013

Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation

Jhamak Karki, Chief Warden-Chitwan National Park

Dr. Kamal Gairhe, Senior Wildlife Veterinarian-Chitwan National Park

National Trust for Nature Conservation

Naresh Subedi, Senior Conservation Officer

Chiranjibi Pd. Pokheral, Senior Conservation Officer-Biodiversity Conservation Center

Babu Ram Lamichhane, Conservation Officer-Biodiversity Conservation Center

Dr. Arjun Pandit, Staff Veterinarian- Biodiversity Conservation Center

In collaboration with

Elephant Aid international-USA

Carol Buckley, Founder and CEO

INTRODUCTION

In January 2013, construction was completed on a solar-powered chain-free hattisar at the National Trust for Nature Conservation’s Biodiversity Conservation Center (NTNC-BCC).

This first-of-its-kind pilot project was developed to study the benefits of working elephants in Nepal living chain-free.

Six elephants, ranging from seven months to seventy-plus years, currently live in five interconnected chain-free corrals designed to improve their welfare.

The elephants spend an average of fifteen hours in the hattisar each day. In the past they were hobbled by both front legs, chained under a shelter that prevented natural posturing and healthy physical activity.

Now, living in the chain-free corral, each elephant is free to move at will and engage in natural behavior such as dusting, foraging, sleeping, bathing, walking, playing. In the case of Man Kali and her children, eight-year-old daughter Prakriti Kali and seven-month-old son Hem Gaj, this related family is able to engage in normal social behavior.

Corral construction and operating system

The corral’s operating system is a solar-powered energizer with a double battery back-up. Three hours of sunlight is required to keep the batteries charged for 10 days.

Specifically designed for wildlife, the corral administers a mild shock upon contact. Due to the pulsating current, it is virtual harmless. Being highly sensitive to the clicking sound of the current, most elephants avoid the fence without ever coming into contact with it.

The chain-free hattisar consists of five interconnected corrals on approximately two-and-one-half acres of open and wooded land.

The corrals stand seven feet tall, constructed of rust-free steel posts and six strands of high tensile wire. Each post is encased in a protective tope.

Each corral has a front, back and side gate for ease of access for cleaning, feeding, moving elephants in and out and providing socialization opportunities.

The energizer and batteries are housed inside the mahout residence; two solar panels that charge the batteries are attached to the roof of the residence.

Each corral is equipped with a cut-off switch enabling independent operation.

This design has proven successful in many areas of Asia to prevent entry by wild bull elephants.

All corrals have a custom-made concrete water trough that provides clean water. Fresh water is stored in an elevated water tank and troughs are filled by gravity feed.

Healthy trees are an important component of the chain-free corrals, providing shade, browse and a natural scratching surface.

To prevent serious damage to trees from elephant tusking activity, protectors were built around select trees.

GOALS AND OBJECTIVES

· Reduce or eliminate stereotypical behavior caused by chaining

· Eliminate low-level long-term stress caused by chaining

· Increase physical activity

· Encourage engagement in natural species-specific behavior such as foraging, dusting, bathing, walking, playing, socializing and exploring

· Eliminate injuries and bone and joint damage

· Improve foot health

· Maintain elephants’ compliance with mahout authority

METHODS

· Ethogram

· Husbandry protocol

· Management protocol

· Feeding protocol

1. ETHOGRAM

In order to quantify the effectiveness of the chain-free corral, an ethogram spreadsheet was created to track a list of natural and stereotypical behaviors, including walking, eating, dusting, playing, exploring, drinking, socializing, sleeping and exhibiting stereotypic behaviors.

2. HUSBANDRY PROTOCOL

Manure removal and corral cleanliness standards were established to ensure the highest level of hygiene.

3. MANAGEMENT PROTOCOL

Training and management practices for inside the corral were established to give elephants a sense of freedom and security.

4. FEEDING PROTOCOL

Changes to traditional feeding practices were established to promote activity and alleviate boredom.

PROGRESS AND PRELIMINARY RESULTS

Each elephant spends approximately 15 hours each day in the chain-free corrals. The remainder of their time is spent in Chitwan National Park engaged in grass collecting, anti-poaching patrols and conservation work and jungle safaris.

Upon first introduction to the chain-free corrals, each elephant calmly explored the area, foraging, dusting and scratching on trees. Each evening they dig in the soft dirt of the forest, creating a comfortable sleeping spot; none return to the stable area to sleep.

The related family of Man Kali, Prakriti Kali and Hem Gaj are housed together. They bonded immediately when united in the chain-free corral and continue to exhibit healthy elephant behavior, with Prakriti Kali assuming the role of big sister to Hem Gaj.

A survey was conducted to track the behavior of the elephants toward the mahouts and drivers. Mahout compliance has not changed. Each elephant continues to respond favorably to mahouts and drivers—both inside and outside the corral—at the same high level as before being released from chains.

Photographic records are being kept to track foot health and bone and joint conditions.

Collectively, the elephants’ behavior represents a substantial improvement in natural activity and reduction in stress and stereotypical behavior.

CONCLUSION

The goal to eliminate stress from chaining and the resulting stereotypic behavior is realized. Adherence to the new feeding protocol ensures that both Prakriti Kali and Mel Kali do not engage in stereotypic, food anticipatory behavior. Since being introduced into the chain-free corral hattisar, all elephants engage in appropriate, beneficial, species-specific behavior; respond favorably to their mahouts; and appear to be calm and comfortable in their new environment, indications that the project is meeting its goals and objectives.

in the dark of night

A hauntingly familiar sound of clanking chains passed by my window, so close I thought perhaps my wall would be crushed. The clink clink clink of cold metal bracelets was unmistakable; an escapee was passing by my room in his effort to disappear into the freedom of the bordering National Park.

Switching off the lights to avoid attracting attention, I pushed open the screen door and stepped into the darkness.

The rattle of chains chilled me to the bone as a silhouette passed in front of me. First one and then a second, moving silently except for the clanging of the chain hobbles secured around the front ankles of the smaller elephant.

On this, the night before I leave Sauraha, I wondered why I was to witness another unbearable scene of captive elephant suffering.

The escapee had entered through the front gate at NTNC-BCC and slowed when he found himself fenced in. The second elephant, a koonkie, was being used to subdue and calm the young male, whose ivory glistened in the moonlight.

When the bull stopped, the mahout began to speak in a soft but firm tone. He told his elephant, the koonkie, to bite, which means to stretch out on her sternum. By assuming this vulnerable position, the elephant appeared to bring comfort to the escapee.

It was then that I saw a mahout precariously perched on top of the young bull, no doubt freighted half out of his wits, with nothing at all to secure himself.

As soon as the koonkie reclined, a command was given for the bull to recline, which he did without hesitation. The reality is that he was frightened and I believe the mahouts involved realized this. As soon as he reclined the mahouts switched elephants and the koonkie left silently.

A little more rattling of the chains and the hobbles were removed, and the young bull moved swiftly back from where he’d come–the government hattisar (elephant stable) next door.

Not willing to witness the brutal scene I assumed would follow, I called out into the night, no pita (don’t hit). No response. As the elephant and mahout passed my room I called out again, which was when I saw a flashlight-wielding man walking behind the elephant.

“Government center hattie (elephant)?” I asked.

“Yes, Raj, from the government center,” he politely replied.

“The elephant is afraid,” I said. ”Do not add to his misery by beating him.”

“You are foot trimming lady, right?” he asked. “You trimmed Raj a few days ago–he had a bad nail.”

“Be kind, Raj is a wild animal,” I said.

”No, not a wild elephant, government elephant,” was his reply.

“Yes, a government elephant and wild,” I said.

There we stood under a bright near-full moon discussing the fact that although these elephants are living in captivity they remain wild animals, never formally domesticated and always to remain wild. When I said they deserve to be treated with compassion because of their circumstances, the mahout nodded in polite agreement. He spoke surprisingly good English and appeared to understand what I was saying. In seconds he vanished into the darkness, leaving me to contemplate what I had just witnessed.

For some time I stood listening to hear if Raj would be brutalized for his attempted escape. But this night I would not have to be reminded of the elephant suffering that permeates this tourist destination in Nepal. The only sound that pierced the night air was the soft repetition of forest birds and chirping insects.

Feb E-newsletter

FEB E-Newsletter

A Blessing

Like another piece of discarded trash tossed to the side of the road, a young puppy lay prone, unnoticed. At first glance I thought she was dead but then I saw her labored breathing and heard her pitiful whimper.

Passers-by did just that–passed by without as much as a glance in her direction. Not until I sat down next to her did any human take notice. Sadly, it was not the dying puppy that caught their attention but the curious sight of a foreigner sitting on the ground comforting a dying dog.

I have come to accept that dogs do not hold a place in the hearts of many people. Unfortunately, at least one religion teaches that dogs are the incarnation of a person who in a former life did something unspeakable. As result, that soul reincarnates in the body of a dog, destined to spend a lifetime homeless, scavenging for food, and in many cases, brutalized by humans.

With the influence of western culture in Asia, some are beginning to see dogs in a bit of a different light. But for one little puppy it was almost too late.

While sitting with the puppy, paying homage by witnessing her passing, I watched the sea of people walk past. Some were curious, some smiled. The westerners showed concern, most Asians were repelled. I was appalled.

After a few minutes her breathing became shallow. She showed no sign of consciousness; she was comatose. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen and then thirty. Sensing the need for this pup to die in a quiet, peaceful place, I picked her up and carried her home. I wasn’t sure she would survive the short walk but I knew it was better than lying on the side of a gravel road surrounded by indifference.

Interestingly, many local Nepalese I passed on my way home expressed interest, even concern. They wanted to know what happened to the pup. When I said “pita”–someone hit her in the head with a rock–they were silent.

I prepared a soft bed with a thick winter coat and some towels and laid her lifeless body down on what I thought would be her deathbed. A dose of Arnica Montana seemed to slow her rapid breathing and helped ease her pain. She wasn’t able to see or hear me and I wonder if she even felt me. But I did my best to surround her with as much love as I could as she made her transition to the other side.

A few more doses of Arnica Montana and she started breathing normally and dropped into a deep sleep. And then to my surprise, she woke up. She was able to drink but barely able to stand without falling. Her forehead was swollen and painful. She seemed to have suffered some brain trauma because her motor skills, eyesight, sense of smell and hearing were all affected.

Quite by coincidence, a team of vets that was providing a rabies clinic in the area, found out about the pup and came by to examine her. They confirmed that a blow to the head caused a deep-seated injury resulting in brain trauma. Only time would tell if she would recover. She received medication to address possible infection and pain, and to reduce the swelling in her brain.

She rested a lot, ate and drank well, but found walking a bit challenging. Due to the trauma she kept walking in circles to the left.

It has been a week since I found “Little Girl” dying in the road and she is steadily recovering. Her circling to the left is nearly gone and her coordination is at about 90 percent. Her hearing, sight and smell are still affected but she is slowing regaining them as well.

This little street puppy has been an unexpected blessing, and now comes the greatest challenge: finding a good home for her in a culture not accustomed to caring for dogs, especially one with special needs.

While the search to find her a good home continues, Little Girl will live with me, recuperating and learning to play tug of war with a sock.

First came Tarra

There are some memories that are etched so deeply in my mind that I will never forget them. Among them are the first day I stepped on-grounds at the Sanctuary, and the last day I stepped off.

March 3^rd brings back a flood of emotionally charged memories so intense that my senses are overwhelmed. This is the day, back in 1995, when Tarra, Scott and I, along with my menagerie of dogs, birds and a single cat, moved to the Sanctuary.

Moving day was determined by the weather and the amount of rainfall during the previous 48 hours. The reason was that the entrance to the Sanctuary presented a challenge for Tarra’s rig.

Cane creek, a shallow, gravel bottom creek that crosses in front of Sanctuary property, usually swelled over its banks after a heavy spring rain.

The small wooden-plank bridge that crossed the creek was not sturdy enough to support the load of Tarra and her trailer. To accommodate larger, heavy vehicles, the local road maintenance crew leveled the embankment leading in and out of the creek, creating a bypass through the water. It was not paved and rumor is that many a driver had misjudged and ended up stuck in the soft gravel.

On this day the creek was very low and we were convinced–well, I should say I was — that we could drive Tarra’s rig through the creek without a problem.

With the engine screaming –RP’s through the roof, gravel crunching under tons of pachyderm weight and steel–we plunged into the shallow creek.

The soft creek bed felt like quicksand under our weight but I was determined not to spin the tires nor slow enough to get bogged down. A happy balance was required and apparently it was reached because after what seemed like an eternity, we came crawling out the other side of the creek. I am sure our new neighbors heard our victory cheer over the screaming engine.

My dream realized

When I delivered my precious cargo to the threshold of my realized dream, I could hardly contain my excitement.

Over the previous three months I spent many days at the Sanctuary preparing the property for Tarra’s arrival. I always wondered if she knew what was about to happen. She definitely had to sense something grand was about to unfold, something that she had inspired.

For close to ten years I meticulously built this Sanctuary in my mind’s eye: the landscape, forest thick with trees, ponds, hills and pastures wrapped around a secluded valley with a creek running through the middle. I saw this image in my mind many times over the years and now it was real, my dream come true.

With the truck safely through the creek and parked inside the gates of elephant heaven, I anticipated pure silence. But what I heard brought a smile to my heart.

The surrounding trees were teaming with flocks of boisterous birds, each determined to out-sing the others. Their voices filled the air with soft chirps, tweets and rowdy calls. It was heavenly. I closed my eyes and breathed in the joy and magnificence of this moment, this day, this new beginning.

By the time this day arrived, Tarra and I had already shared a lifetime together with our family of dogs, goats, cats and birds. In addition to being naturally social, Tarra is very precious. She thrived in her big family.

Now we were literally standing on the threshold of monumental change. The Sanctuary would finally enable to us to expand the family to include other elephants. I had to refrain from thinking about this too much for fear I would burst from excitement.

First came Tarra

Then it was Tarra’s turn to take her first breath of Sanctuary air, which she did with much gusto, starting with a mighty trumpet as she bounded out of her trailer. She always thrills me with her drama queen antics. And I mean drama queen in the best way. Her playful side is her only side. She takes fun to the limit, adventure to the outer limit and when her people and her dogs share the adventure she is over the top.

Chattering her signature “bark” and spinning in circles, making volleyball size divots in the grass, Tarra hesitated for a split second. Then it was all four legs pumping as fast as she could drive them, leaving us with a view of her beautiful buttocks as she raced into the pasture.

My cheeks hurt so bad from smiling as I ran after her, not wanting to miss a second of this, our latest adventure.

Tarra ran around the pasture, doing her best to keep me and the dogs engaged in her play. It worked–we thoroughly enjoyed the fun she created.

The following twelve months was spent preparing for our second pachyderm resident and the unfolding of the Camelot years at the Elephant Sanctuary in Tennessee.

Namaste Tarra, you inspired a vision like no other and continue to inspire me each and every day of my life.

ke garne…what to do?

I have held off writing this blog for weeks hoping that my experience was anecdotal. I also wondered if sharing my experience and expressing my concern could be beneficial or would simply broaden the already huge culture gap that divides humans who view all beings as sentient and those who do not. As the situation continues to repeat itself over and over again I realize—even though I am still unsure of the outcome—that an expression of my concern is required.

Over the past four months I have been immersed in creating a healthy environment for six captive held elephants in Nepal. The challenge to improve their welfare is relatively easy, their transition seemingly effortless. The problems we experience are not with the elephants, it’s with people.

Although the facility where I am working is a private NGO conducting wildlife conservation studies, the general public feels it is their right to enter the grounds and act in any manner they please, which at a minimum consists of invading the animals’ personal space to take photos—not of the animal but of themselves standing next to the animal. Sadly, the animal is insignificant; it is a photo of themselves that they wish to save for prosperity.

It has become increasingly distressing to witness the degree to which people disregard and abuse animals. Even authority figures are unable to protect captive held wildlife and wild animals from insidious abuse by humans.

This exasperating situation is repeated all over Asia, where wildlife, both captive and in-situ, find themselves harassed by frenzied mobs of non-empathetic humans.

Take, for example, the recent craze in Coimbatore forests in India, where crowds of people gather on a regular basis to incite wild elephants to become aggressive. Who has the power to change the mindset that gives people permission to harass wild animals on this grand scale? Where is common decency? And where does religion come into play in the cultural abuse of non-human animals?

It has been my observation that policing authorities have little influence on crowds of people unless batons and violence are employed. A seemingly docile crowd can erupt into an angry, violent mob in seconds. The trigger that transforms a crowd of people is simple: ask someone to stop doing what s/he is doing.

For example, request that a person not enter a private area and your request will be meet with a refusal, followed by immediate argument. All the while, the offender will continue to enter the premises, totally ignoring the request.

The problem is compounded if the person is not alone but accompanied by others, which is most often the case. Everyone will equally ignore the request and add their voice to the argument. The volume of verbal resistance increases until a confrontation ensues, with the offending crowd encircling the requester, yelling their refusal in an attempt to intimidate.

The offenders appear to cross all lines of common decency, causing stress and trauma to the wildlife, who have no other way to respond but to become aggressive to protect themselves. At this point the animal is viewed as the offender and made to suffer further for his/her response to the abusive crowd of unruly people.

Trying to stop the abuse

I wonder almost every day what can be done to prevent widespread, systematic animal abuse. Education is the most obvious, but until such time as a new generation can be sensitized to the pain and suffering of non-human animals, the question remains, what can be done to protect the innocent?

We have tried posting signs, which are torn down and spat upon. Placing an educator in key locations to speak with the public, both about the wildlife and the appropriate human behavior in the presence of wildlife, proved equally ineffective. The public argues, demands to be allowed past the barrier, pushes past, verbally abuses the educator and demands to touch, feed and have their photo taken touching the captive wildlife.

I witness crowds of people taunting wild animals and intentionally abusing domestic livestock and street dogs on a regular basis. The lack of empathy and even malice shown toward non-human animals is mirrored in the manner in which a rioting crowd responds to authority figures. On too many occasions I have witnessed a complete disregard and disrespect for a reasonable and legal request, such as “please do not feed, tease, hit or touch the animal.” Surprisingly, many people appear to view these activities as one of their inalienable rights.

It is not possible for me to turn my back and walk away when animals are being abused. As result, on too many occasions, I have become the focus of an enraged crowd of near-violent humans ready to bash my head in because I have told them to stop harassing the elephants, to not hit the dog or even to refrain from tormenting the baby rhino. Admittedly, nothing I have tried has worked to stop the violence except to stand between the tormentors and the animal they have targeted. But this approach is not sustainable. So then, what to do?

Fencing has been used to keep captive wildlife in. Until a new empathetic generation emerges it appears the same approach must be taken to keep the human wildlife out.

December 18, 2012 – E-Newsletter

I am back in Nepal. So much has happened during my first month here!

I accepted a kind offer from the National Trust for Nature Conservation’s Biodiversity Conservation Center to live on-grounds. It was a good decision. There is always something interesting going on, local and foreign students visiting and opportunities to learn about the work of the many conservationists on NTNC-BCC’s staff.

We have already trimmed feet at the two government Centers, NTNC and some private stables, but foot trimming has taken a back seat to other projects for now.

Expanding the chain-free corral in a big way

When I arrived, the first order of business was identifying a location for an additional chain-free corral at NTNC-BCC for Man Kali and her new calf. After I described my long-term aspirations for NTNC’s elephants, senior staff suggested that we petition to expand our chain-free corral pilot project to include the entire hattisar (elephant compound). I was deliriously happy with the idea that we might be given permission to convert the entire hattisar all at once.

Chitwan National Park’s chief warden and senior veterinarian, the Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation’s ecologist and NTNC’s officer-in-charge explored the idea and unanimously endorsed it. The project is scheduled to begin December 15^th.

The funds to build the expanded corral were donated by EAI’s dedicated supporters including a most generous and timely donation from the Harrison Sanford Jackson estate. This donation has come at the perfect time for EAI to make a serious impact on elephant welfare in Nepal with this chain-free hattisar, the first of its kind in the country.

Not only does the chain-free corral expansion mean that all six NTNC-BCC hattisar elephants will never again be shackled, the design enables them to socialize with each other.

Reuniting the family

Knowing the importance of the mother and calf bond, you can imagine how excited I was when Dr. Gairhe, Chitwan National Park’s senior government veterinarian, suggested that the family group at NTNC be allowed to live together in the same corral.

Even though Prakriti Kali and her mother both live in the same hattisar, they have not been allowed to socialize for four years, since Prakriti Kali was formally trained. This practice of separation is traditional, meant to break the mother/calf bond.

But onlookers can see that the bond between Prakriti Kali and her mother is still strong. On occasion when they are relatively close, Prakriti Kali rumbles, her mom responds and Prakriti Kali instantly assumes a posture that the mahouts refer to as “four feet together”: an awkward, stereotypical posture she exhibits when she appears to be soliciting comfort.

Dr. Gaihre’s recommendation and the blessing of PasPat, the mahout supervisor, means that Prakriti Kati will be reunited with her biological mother after four years of separation. She will also meet her baby brother Hem Gaj, for the very first time. Together the three will share a chain-free space designed specifically for them.

Anyone who has witnessed the reunion of Shirley and Jenny

in the award-winning documentary “The Urban Elephant” can imagine what this reunion will look and sound like. Elephant reunions–there is nothing more moving.

And be sure to watch this short video about our work in Nepal, and hear from Prakriti Kali aka Sweetie Kali’s mahout about the difference a chain-free corral has made in her life.

A life lost to herpes

Shortly after I arrived in Nepal, a two-year-old calf at the Government Breeding Center succumbed to the herpes virus. This insidious disease is relatively new to Nepal but has claimed the lives of many captive-born elephants in the US, where extensive research is being conducted.

The loss of any elephant is heart wrenching, but to lose a baby is particularly difficult. The mahouts were quite obviously grief stricken as they gathered in near-silence to bury one of the youngest members of their family. Incense was burned and prayers given as the mahouts dropped flowers into her grave. One of the young veterinarians in attendance said that the mahouts view the elephant as having personhood status. To them, losing this calf was the same as losing a family member.

Since herpes is a virus, there is no vaccination to guard against it. It appears and kills quickly, usually within days of the first signs (lethargy and dark spots on the tongue). The medication prescribed to help combat the disease has had mixed results and, as I found out, is not available in Nepal. Thankfully, our friends at Wildlife SOS-India came to our rescue. Dr. Yaduraj spent days locating the volume of drug required. After three shippers refused to ship to Nepal, he found one who was willing. There was one last delay—when the package was returned to Wildlife-SOS for additional address information—then it was finally sent on its way. Our sincerest thanks go to Dr. Yaduraj for his assistance purchasing and shipping the medication to us.

Getting accurate weights in case

All babies and their mothers at the breeding center were weighed. If any of the babies become ill, Dr. Gaihre will be able to prescribe an accurate dose of medicine.

If treatment is needed, the veterinarian must know the patient’s weight in order to prescribe the accurate dose of medication. It was decided that all the elephants should be weighed in the event another baby is stricken with the virus. There is a scale on-grounds but the elephants needed to be trained to step onto the platform. They all did great but the calves were especially fabulous. They all took their turn to step onto the platform. None showed a bit of fear; each of them walked confidently across the platform to receive a tasty treat.

Checking tongues

As an added precautionary measure, the babies were also trained for tongue examinations, a simple and painless procedure to detect the disease in its early stages.

The babies were willing participants in the Compassionate Elephant Care training method http://www.elephantaidinternational.org/CEM.php, which uses only positive reinforcement. Within three days all the calves were happily laying their trunk back across their forehead and sticking out their tongue for their reward: a juicy orange slice. With the trunk and tongue in this position mahouts can easily examine the calf’s tongue for abnormalities.

EAI paid for a shipment of medication used to combat herpes and worked with mahouts to show them how to train the babies for tongue examinations.

The mahouts are now checking the babies’ tongues twice a day–once in the morning before going to the forest and then again in the evening when they return. Hopefully the virus will not strike again but, if it does, the mahouts’ vigilance could make all the difference.

Still fighting for Mali

Efforts to move Mali from her solitary existence in a zoo in the Philippines to a sanctuary in Thailand continue. An op ed by Carol comparing Mali’s life to that of Tina, who came to live at The Elephant Sanctuary, appeared this summer in a paper in the Philippines . Since then, Carol’s op ed has also appeared in Sri Lanka’s Sunday Times and, most recently, the Bangkok Post

And now we are three

EAI will soon celebrate its third anniversary. It’s hard to believe we have come so far and accomplished so much in such a short period of time.

We have been able to do so much – and have such an impact – because you share our dream and continue to support the important work we do. With so many needy elephants in situations that, at times, are overwhelming, it is essential to know that you are backing our efforts to make life better for captive-held elephants in Asia.

It doesn’t matter if we are building chain-free corrals, teaching mahouts to handle their elephants in a gentler manner, providing pedicures to any elephant in need or stockpiling medicine to treat baby elephants infected with the herpes virus, you are always there to make sure that we are able to provide swift and humane assistance, one elephant at a time.

We cannot do it without you. At a time when elephants are fighting for their very existence across Asia and Africa, you help EAI make a real difference. I know you will remember these hardworking and many times neglected elephants in your year-end giving.

2013 promises to be another year of challenges and change for the better. I look forward to continuing our work together.

Happy Holidays and Namaste,

Carol

A precious soul lost

It’s been a pretty intense week. A two-year-old female calf at the breeding center was diagnosed with herpes. Even though she received treatment, she passed away two days later.

Herpes is near-epidemic among elephants in the US and recently reared its ugly head in Chitwan. Young calves between the ages of one and three seem to be most susceptible but there are records of juveniles and adults dying from the disease as well.

You’ll remember Bhadra, the fabulous flaming redhead we trained with positive reinforcement in Sauraha, Nepal. He died of the herpes virus last year, shortly before his second birthday. His mahout was so devastated that he left his job and returned to his home village.

Famciclovir, the treatment of choice for herpes, is not available in Nepal and must be imported from India. A small elephant can require as many as 1000 pills to fight the virus. The exorbitant cost—75 cents per pill—and large quantity needed, made stockpiling the medication impossible.

The calf was given available medication and was under treatment and constant surveillance as I arrange for a shipment of Famciclovir from friends at Wildlife SOS-India. Unfortunately, the drug did not arrive in time to save her. She died in the night with her mother stoically standing by. Records indicate that even with Famciclovir many calves do not survive.

I accompanied the team for the necropsy and somber burial; both were done with the utmost respect. All the mahouts were present and, for the first time in my observation, near silent. As Dr. Gaihre led the exploratory necropsy, examining and collecting tissue samples for lab work, the mahouts dug a grave. It was a sad and sobering experience. This calf had the classic symptoms of herpes–severe hemorrhaging–but otherwise was a very healthy elephant.

When it came time to lay her body to rest, I instinctively glanced around for wild flowers to place on her grave, just as we always did at the Sanctuary. After her precious body was covered with a sparkling clean white linen cloth, incense was lit and ceremonial red powder and flowers were sprinkled over her covered body. When the flowers I collected left my hand and floated down into her grave, a wave of gentle remembering engulfed my heart as I thought of the beloved elephants who had lived and died at the Sanctuary. At this moment we were all one, sharing the loss of a sacred soul.

The senior wildlife staff presided over the burial. Although the words spoken over her grave were in Nepalese and foreign to my ear, I knew exactly what the prayers were. It was the same ceremony, the same prayers uttered each time we buried another precious elephant at the Sanctuary. Like never before, I felt a connection with the mahouts who care as deeply for their elephants as we do ours.

Preparing for next time

The signs of herpes include dark spots on the tongue. By checking the tongue twice a day, the disease can be diagnosed in the early stages. In an effort to monitor the other three young calves at the breeding center, I was asked to train them for tongue examinations, a request that I was happy to fulfill.

The first day of training was a heart-lifting success. We were able to get the calves to place their trunks on their foreheads—for a tasty piece of banana—and took photos of their tongues.

Additionally, I ordered Famciclovir. Even though the drug may expire before it can be used, I feel strongly that having it on-hand whenever possible is important. We were not able to help one precious elephant but if the disease strikes again we will be better prepared.

A Google search for elephant herpes virus will result in a volume of information about this deadly disease. Help us prepare for the next time. If you wish to contribute to the cost of Famciclovir for calves at the Chitwan Elephant Breeding Center, please do so through our Chip-In.

Back in Sauraha, Chitwan, Nepal

Working in Asia the past two years I have learned a tremendous amount about how culture and tradition affect collaborative conservation efforts. Among the most important lessons is the need to ensure project sustainability. No matter how groundbreaking or beneficial the project promises to be, it must be sustainable to be successful.

Ways to sustain the project must be identified during the planning stage, otherwise the effort put into it will have been wasted. Sustainability determines success and people ensure sustainability.

Before returning to Chitwan, I wondered if our chain-free yard pilot project for Sweetie Kali, aka Prakriti Kali, would prove to be sustainable. Although I prepared myself for less, I hoped the mahouts had truly embraced this welfare project. Success hinged on their acceptance of this approach to elephant care, which is nearly the polar opposite to their tradition.

As I approached the elephant stables I saw Sweetie Kali foraging in her personal forest. The dense scrubs were a faint memory but the mature trees were standing tall, providing shade and enrichment, just as they had when we built the yard last May.

I was pleased and honestly a bit relieved to see that the chain-free fence was in pristine condition. The staff, under the direction of Chiran Pokheral, the officer in charge, did a fabulous job of ensuring the success of our pilot project.

It’s my nature to push headlong into the next project forgetting to take a moment to bask in the glow of a collaborative project well done. It is too easy to get swept away in the excitement of something new and forget to thank the people responsible for making everything happen.

In addition to Paspat and the mahouts, who were completely receptive to the changes in their routine that a chain-free yard required, many other individuals, including Chiran Pokheral, Dr. Gairhe, Ram Kumar, Babu Ram, Nandu, Vishnu and Dibyendu and his crew, made this project possible. Without their support and assistance, this project would never have come to fruition, much less become sustainable.

Special thanks goes to Chiran Pokheral who, after securing the required clearances, made sure I had access to plumbers, electricians and day laborers, and the cooperation of everyone needed to complete the project. Without Chiran we would still be dreaming about a chain-free yard instead of watching Prakriti Kali thrive in it.

Dr. Gairhe, the senior government veterinarian, also played a key role in the project’s success. A true conservationist, Dr. Gairhe’s endorsement and oversight of the project provided the much-needed assurance at the government level.

Now that I am back in Sauraha, it’s time to identify a location for the second chain-free yard. This yard will be for Man Kali and her three-and-a-half month old calf Hem Gaj. Once again we turn to Chiran Sir, Dr. Gairhe and the NTNC staff to lead us in our effort to improve elephant welfare in Nepal.

Bahabur’s surgery

Oct 17^{th – Warning!, gruesome photos included in this post}

My first morning in Assam, I awoke to learn there was an elephant emergency.

Thirty-five-year-old, Bahabur, a skilled koonkie (elephants trained to assist mahouts in the capture, training and management of wild elephants) who only days before successfully pulled a wild rhino from a mud bog nearly lost his right ear in a fight with a wild bull elephant.

Bahabur is intimately familiar with both captive and wild elephants. He lives with a non-related herd of koonkie elephants whose job it is to assist their wild kin by participating in human-elephant conflict mitigation.

When wild elephants emerge from the forest in search of food and water, they raid crops and create havoc. In an effort to protect both elephants and humans, Bahabur and his herd, guided by their mahouts, becomes a formidable barrier between wild elephants and trouble, literally saving the wild elephants’ lives.

Many elephants are killed as result of crop raiding–poisoned, shot, electrocuted, their mouths blown apart by bomb-laden food. These koonkies are the front line of protection for their brethren and the villagers whose encroachment and farming activity create such a dangerous situation for everyone involved.

Bahabur stood motionless, his right ear ripped in half, dangling painfully under its own weight. The cartilage was ripped apart at the top ridge of his ear. The flesh that covered the back of his ear was torn from the ear, creating a huge gaping pocket between the skin and cartilage. It was a seriously gruesome sight and no doubt painful.

The attacked had happened eight to 12 hours before, after Bahabur, just coming into his annual musth season, had uprooted his tether tree and headed straight into trouble.

Mahouts tracked Bahabur and received no resistance when they instructed him to return home.

The expert mahout staff managed Bahabur while Drs. Bhupen Sarma and Anjan Talukdar assessed the injury. In a natural self-medicating fashion, Bahabur had packed the gaping wound with dirt, which needed to be removed before surgery could begin.

Without complaint Bahabur reclined in a half-sitting position, giving the veterinarians access to the wound. No one yelled, hit or in any way badgered Bahabur. Instead they spoke calmly and confidently, patiently waiting for Bahabur to respond to their commands and get comfortably situated.

In soft tones, treatment instructions were given. The wound was cleaned, flushed out with clean water and Betadine.

The veterinarians and mahouts worked seamlessly together, voices low as they repaired the half-severed ear of this full-grown bull elephant.

From time to time Bahabur needed to stand in order to readjust and, I believe, to distract himself from the pain. After a few seconds standing he would once again respond to the patient command given by his mahout to recline.

With only a local anesthetic to deaden the pain in the area to be sutured, Bahabur’s ear was expertly reconstructed; the torn cartilage stitched together with sutures and ripped flesh reconnected. The result was amazing.

Bahabur is a mesmerizing example of this highly evolved, profoundly intelligent species, who for so long has captured my respect and awe.

in the dark of night

Feb E-newsletter

A Blessing

First came Tarra

ke garne…what to do?

December 18, 2012 – E-Newsletter

A precious soul lost

Back in Sauraha, Chitwan, Nepal

Bahabur’s surgery

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