Need a part-time job for a little extra cash? Need to gain more exotic animal husbandry experience? Have another job or school or kids and need flexible scheduling? If you are an experienced zookeeper, vet tech, rehabber or animal caretaker, then consider joining our animal care team! We have a rare opening in our animal keeper schedule and are seeking an experienced individual for part-time work on Sundays. Here are all the details:

PART-TIME ANIMAL KEEPER, NW DALLAS, NEEDED FOR SUNDAY SHIFT, 3-4 hrs per day, flexible scheduling

Zooniversity LLC, a Dallas-based wildlife education company, seeks a reliable, self-motivated, responsible individual for the position of part-time animal keeper. Work 3-4 hours per day, NEEDED FOR SUNDAYS; hours are flexible to work around your other job, school or family commitments. Relief keeper days also available, as needed by other keepers. NOTE: this position is strictly husbandry duties – no public speaking (so, wanna-be educators shouldn’t expect additional opportunities).

Must have experience in the care of multiple species as a zookeeper, veterinary technician, rehabber or animal caretaker. You must be willing to handle arthropods, amphibians, reptiles, birds and small mammals.

Daily duties include:

- Maintenance and cleaning of animal cages and surrounding areas

- Daily diet preparation

- Inventory and pick-up of food and supplies i.e. produce, feed & bedding

- Washing/disinfecting of animal dishes and laundry

- Conduct "rounds" to ensure enclosures are secured & animals have fresh water and food

- Administer medications or treatments

- Monitor health and behavior of animals

- Construct and provide behavioral enrichment

It takes more than a love of animals. It takes a solid respect of animal boundaries and behaviors and an ability to follow directions. Candidates must be at least 21 years old, have a high school diploma and valid driver’s license, be able to lift 25 pounds, and have a strong work ethic. Must work well on your own and be responsible, reliable, punctual, and committed. Additional hours available for the right individual. Pay is commensurate with experience. Training time is paid. Located in North Dallas, near Hwy 635/LBJ and Marsh Lane.

Learn more about us at www.zooniversity.org. Send inquiries and resume to Allison at allison@zooniversity.org.

UPDATE: The position has been filled — thank you to all those who applied!

We will be forever indebted to all of you. We owe Colby’s life to our two amazing avian veterinarians — Dr. Anna Osofsky and her medical team at West Carrollton Pet Hospital, who saw Colby through the first critical 48-hours, and to Dr. Hugh Hayes and his amazing team of technicians at Summertree Animal Clinic, Dallas, who painstakingly nursed Colby through three weeks of intensive care. Our love and thanks to all the family, friends, and facebook fans who prayed and sent those powerful positive, healing energies to her every day. Hugs and kisses to our St. Thomas Aquinas Zoo School students, who added Colby to their nightly bedtime prayers. Without your medical expertise, without your unwavering love and your heartfelt pleas, this little feathered teacher wouldn’t still be with us.

What happened? One tiny cut. One microscopic bacterium. That’s all it took to take a robust, high energy, applause-motivated parrot to the brink of death. One Sunday, three weeks ago, Colby looked a little fluffed-up, so we gave her the day off. "Rest, little one." The next morning at 6 am, she was unresponsive and mouth breathing. At 7 am, we were at the avian veternarian for emergency care. At 9 am, we were told she had little chance of surviving. Twice more in three weeks, we got that same phone call. "We wouldn’t be doing our duty if we didn’t tell you that Colby is critically ill, she may not make it. You should come visit." Septicemia. Nasty, blood-borne bacteria that used to be called "blood poisoning." One cut, one bacterium, that’s all it took to devistate this outwardly hearty, but secretly delicate, creature. It took nearly super-human medical intervention to keep her going — three strong antibiotics, anti-inflamatories, narcotics, detoxifiers, tube feeding, subcutaneous fluid therapy, probiotics – all administered with care, two to three times a day, for three long, arduous weeks. There she laid, on the floor of an incubator, looking helpless. You can read the progress reports on Zooniversity’s facebook page, but you’ll have to read between the lines to sense the real angst that Zooniversity’s educators and keepers felt each day. Our hearts were breaking as we dealt with the roller-coaster daily reports. A final plea was posted for prayers and healing on a particularly bad day during the second week. By that same evening, Colby had rallied, she fought back. You can’t tell us that prayer and positive energy doesn’t work! It’s been an exhausting lesson, but one that every wildlife person has to learn — every life is fragile, every life can end when you least expect it, every life is precious and worth saving, no matter what it takes.

Colby still needs more time to fully recuperate, so it’ll be a while before she can travel, show off, and bask in applause again – but she’s still here! Colby obviously has many more students to teach and many more people to inspire — she has a reason to be here. "Good bird, Colby." And, please keep those well wishes coming her way, as we’ve learned you never know when they’ll be needed. With our sincere gratitude — thank you, everyone.

.

Monday, March 9, 2009

6:15 AM: Alarm goes off. Hit snooze button two times before getting up to let the dog out. Make 8 cups of black coffee and check calendar for today’s bookings. Unload animal feeding bowls from dishwasher. Pile another load of animal laundry into washer.

6:45 AM: Still in pajamas, take coffee to do morning rounds in the animal facilities (yes, they are on our property). Eye each cage, reply to animal greetings, note any food bowels that haven’t been finished, turn on the parrot’s TV, give post-surgical ferret morning meds, mist down the chameleon and the bullfrog to simulate morning dew. Take extra time to cuddle with those who have come out to greet me. Make notes on the message board for the zookeeper who’s scheduled.

7:15 AM: Pour 4th cup of coffee and check for new e-mail. Reply to 3 new inquiries that appeared overnight. Hit the shower and put on Zooniversity uniform. Wish my husband a good day at work.

8:00 AM: Pack for first client, a preschool that books every year. Transfer five “Springtime” animals into their travel carriers. Load all into the Zooniversity vehicle (you’ve seen it, the one with giant lizards on each side) and prep to leave. Packing interrupted by two phone call inquiries. Answer the first, let the second one go to voice mail. No time to answer now.

9:00 AM: Leave on schedule with animals, an energy drink, and a protein bar (no time to eat a real breakfast). Say morning prayers while driving.

9:45 AM: Arrive in Arlington on schedule. Make two trips to hand carry all crates into the classroom. Sound system set-up and checked. Remind client that no children under the age of 3 years may attend. Fifty 3-5 year olds try to enter as quietly as possible, sitting “criss-cross applesauce” with “bubbles in their mouths.” Kids try their best to follow the safety rules (thank goodness for microphones).

10:30 AM: Show #1 complete. Reload the car and head back to Zooniversity. Return trip slowed down by two phone calls that turned into bookings—needed to pull-over to get all the details.

12:00 Noon: Have 30-minutes to unpack animals, clean travel carriers, grab a lunch of left-overs, and repack for Rockwall Zoo School (a weekly class for home schoolers). Glance at new emails. No time to call them back now.

12:30 PM: Back in the car and aiming for Rockwall. Detour around a stopped LBJ Freeway and lose 20 minutes. Answer a call from my college-student son and got all his news updates from the weekend while driving.

1:30 PM: Arrive behind schedule. Set-up classroom and animals just as the first of 26 students arrive.

2:00 PM: Teach Zoo School Unit 2: Arachnids to an inquisitive group of K-4th graders (GREAT kids). Only a few squeals at the tarantula and scorpion.

3:15 PM: Show #2 complete. Repack and back on the road. Three missed calls. Try to figure out when there’ll be time to return calls and messages, not now.

4:00 PM: Unload again. Greet the evening-shift zookeeper and brief him on special needs today. Ask him to force-feed an anorexic chameleon while I move the post-surgical ferret and one of the fennec foxes into travel carriers and head to the veterinarian’s office. My high-school daughter joins me to catch me up on her day’s news.

4:30 PM: At vet’s office. Ferret sutures are removed (partial pancreaectomy due to insulinoma) and blood sugar is checked. Too low, put back on medication. Fox’s leg is examined. Vet also suspects the worst—a nasty looking tumor has started on her leg. Surgery is scheduled for the following Wednesday. Dang, not good. Stay hopeful.

5:15 PM: Quick stop at the Farmers Market to restock animal food: sweet potatoes, Spring mix, apples and oranges. Grab a few ripe melons and mangoes. Forget to buy human food, oh well.

5:45 PM: Unload and reload for the night’s show—6 rainforest animals for a PTA meeting in Flower Mound. No time for dinner, grab another protein bar.

6:45 PM: Arrive ahead of schedule despite rush hour traffic and sit in the car to return 5 phone calls, connect with three of them and book reservations.

7:00 PM: Set-up for show and wait while the PTA meeting drags on beyond our scheduled start time. Start 20 minutes later than planned. The natives are rather restless, but left with the client happy.

8:30 PM: Show #3 complete. Repack and back in the car. Swing through Wendy’s drive-thru and eat dinner in the parking lot.

9:15 PM: Back at Zooniversity to unpack animals, clean travel carriers and check for any new zookeeper’s notes. One last animal walk-around. Lots of nighttime greetings and cuddles for the nocturnal animals. Give the last of the day’s medications. Lights-out for all non-human creatures.

10:00 PM: Sit down at computer to check email. Generate email confirmations and invoices for the new bookings. Realize that my website needs updating, add it to my to-do list my day-off next week.

12:00 AM: Stare at tomorrow’s schedule to figure-out what wake-up time is needed. Lights out for all human creatures.

Presenter: "This big green iguana is not green right now, he’s orange. That’s because he’s a boy, and boy iguanas think they are more attractive to the females when they wear orange."  Birthday Boy: "My Daddy LOVES to wear orange."

Presenter: "We are now going to meet a rare rainforest creature (pause)…a kinkajou." Student: "God bless you!"

Presenter: "See how this tiny opossum can hang upside down by his tail to reach his dinner."  Student: "Teacher, what are those purple things? There, right there under his tail. They look like two big blueberries."

Presenter: "The hedgehog has 7,000 tiny hairs that he can stick straight up in the air—like 7,000 tiny needles." Birthday Girl: "Just like my Daddy after his hair transplant."

Presenter: "Now, we’re going to meet my daughter’s favorite animal." Student: "Daughter? You look too old to have a daughter."

Presenter: "This unusual lizard has two large expansion joints that run down the sides of his body. So, if he has a large meal, they can expand to let him eat two times more food at one sitting." Birthday Boy: "Wow, my grandma REALLY needed those at Thanksgiving."

Presenter: "Look at the hedgehog you’re holding—he’s sniffing for bugs. You don’t have any bugs, do you?" Birthday Boy: "Not any more. Mommy cut my hair off and took me to the doctor, so they’re all gone now."

Problem Adults

The Animal-Hugger – The grown-up that ooohs and aaaahs at every animal and incessantly begs to hold it. Once you concede, they snuggle it so tightly, you’re sure the animal can’t breath. One significantly inebriated adult birthday girl had to have 3 friends insist she release our fennec fox from her loving, Margarita-inspired, death grip, before she turned the animal loose.

The Know-It-All – These folks like to interject, at evenly spaced intervals in your program, lengthy comments (cleverly disguised as questions) for the sole purpose of impressing the other adults in the room with their knowledge of the animal kingdom. "Isn’t it true that the tarantula’s exoskeleton is soft and delicate immediately after a shed?" Uh, yep.

The Socialite – The adults, usually women, who treat the party performer as if we were invisible. They never look at the lowly hired help, but ooze hugs and air kisses for the other well-coiffed guests. The Socialites tend to lose track of their children at the party, never hear our clearly announced safety rules, and their cell phones usually ring in the middle of the program — which they answer in a loud voice, since they can’t hear the caller over the trivial wildlife program that’s going on.

The Heckler – Usually a man. He likes to whip-out a clever quip whenever we ask the children an animal question. "Look at this snake’s back, do you see the tree trunk pattern?" "Looks like a pair of boots to me!" he’ll chortle, looking to the other parents for some laughs and back slaps.

The Chatterers – Can be clusters of men or women, but they tend to huddle in the kitchen or in the immediate perimeter of the kid’s party circle where the show is going on. They chatter, non-stop, never quietly, forcing the wildlife educator to speak louder and louder. It becomes a battle of volume to see who can top the other.

Problem Kids

The Questioner – When you only have 30 or 45-minutes to complete an entire wildlife program and still stay on schedule, there’s only time for a few poignant audience questions. Yet, there’s always the one child who asks incessant questions about the animals — of course, the answers were already presented in the show, had they been listening.

The Squeezer – We have a "one finger touch" rule, to avoid undo stress (and potential injury) to the program animal. But, there’s always the one child who just can’t resist. They raise the one-finger up to touch with the greatest self-restraint, and as the animal approaches for a gentle touch, they just can’t control the urge one more second, and reach out and squeeze the animal with their whole hand. Good wildlife educators must know the phrase "one finger" in at least three languages, and repeat it again, and again, and again.

The Fidget – Poor child just can’t stay seated or quiet no matter how many times they are reminded. And, their parent (usually "The Socialite" or "The Chatterer") is too busy to notice their struggle or to come to their aid.

The Sneaky Kid – You can see their little wheels turning… "she’s not looking, now’s my chance, I’ll just sneak a quick peek at what’s in that cage, she’ll never know, here I go…dang!" Nabbed again.

• 40 lbs. fresh Spring Mix (that expensive salad and herb stuff served at elegant eateries—only the best for our animals)
• 60 lbs. fresh seasonal vegetables
• 40 lbs. sweet potatoes
• 24 lbs. bananas



• 30 lbs. fresh seasonal fruit (especially mangoes, papayas and seasonal berries—these guys eat better than we do)
• 25 lbs. parrot pellets
• 4,000 live crickets
• 500 live wax worms
• 500 live superworms



• 4 jumbo rats, 8 medium rats, 32 adult mice, 32 pinkie rats and 40 pinkie mice (no, not alive—pre-killed, frozen and delivered by the FedEx man—bet he doesn’t know what’s in the box)
• 50 lbs. of timothy hay (shipped from Missouri, where it’s the freshest and tastiest)
• 60 gallons dechlorinated/filtered/ozonated water
• 32 rolls paper towels
• 150 lbs. wood shavings
• detergent and bleach for 30 large loads of laundry
• 2 liters hand sanitizer
• 60 45-gallon plastic yard bags

And, this doesn’t include any of the specialty zoological dry and canned diets that are custom ordered and shipped for each of our special animal ambassadors—each one has their own labeled and sealed feed bin. What, kangaroo formula and prairie dog pellets aren’t on your current shopping list? Not a problem, they’re standing items on ours.

#10 - "Do you have any storks? I thought it’d be cool to have one walking around my baby shower."

#9 – "Hello. I’d like to rent an elephant for a wedding."

#8 – "I’m having a party for 3-year olds at a facility that won’t let you bring your animals onto their property, so could you do a show without animals?"

#7 - "I need a cheetah for a movie opening so people can pet it."

#6 – "I’m doing a Curious George party for my 3-year old. Do you have some kind of small monkey, like a chimpanzee?"

#5 – "I’ve read all your safety rules on your website, but I’m calling to see how many of them are negotiable."

#4 – "I’m looking for a vulture, an owl and a dragon for a Harry Potter party. And, can you dress-up like Hagrid?"

#3 – "I want a special party picture of each guest with a snake wrapped around their neck."

#2 – "But, my 2-year old REALLY wants a lion at her party."

And, drum roll please…the #1 most ridiculous request:

#1 – "I don’t want a whole party, just 20 minutes or so…and maybe 10 minutes or so when everybody gets to snuggle with the animals…oh, it’s at a play gym, some kids can play if they don’t want to listen to you…I’ve rented a cotton candy machine too…all the kids are 2-3 years old…I’ve only invited 30 of her friends…on a Sunday night…oh, and I want to pay half price because it’s a shorter party on a Sunday night…what do you mean you don’t want to do the party…what else have you got to do?"

When you are a wildlife educator, you can do hundreds of shows each year. You can meet thousands of adults and tens-of-thousands of children each year. Year, after year, after year. The numbers can be staggering. But, there is always one show, one kid, that you vividly remember…and not for good reasons. My nightmare: THAT show at the Country Club and THAT kid.

Now, I do wildlife shows in Dallas-Fort Worth and we have dozens of country clubs and I’ve taught at almost all of them. And, mostly, they have respectful audiences, appreciative parents and well-behaved children. Except for one country club. It shall remain nameless for fear of never being hired by any of their members again. I am certain, that I will never accept a reservation to speak there again.

Imagine this scenario. An empty ballroom, classically decorated, with a staging area. Nice. Peacefully and quietly you set-up for a show, safely tucking animal carriers in a row under a table, hiding them them with a decorative, protective drape. You set the microphone and do a sound check. Perfect. You take a deep breath and tell the hostess that you are ready when they are and instruct her to have their members enter quietly and sit on the floor. You wait for the expectant country club guests to politely fill the room.

Nightmare begins. Doors fly open and crash against the walls. Children in wet bathing suits flood the room. They’ll stop at the edge of the stage, right? Wrong. Thrashing, shoving children leap onto the stage platform. Aghast, you try to corral them back off the stage. A scream. You twist around to see a dozen kids flipping over the table drape and pulling out carriers. A wildlife educator’s worst nightmare comes to life. You rush to the animals’ aid and verbally discipline the out-of-control chlorine-dripping herd of wild beasts and push them (maybe not so gently) off of the stage. You scan the room, not one adult anywhere in sight. Loudspeaker, quick! Give stern instructions. Request quiet. Have them “catch bubbles” in their mouths (an elementary school teacher trick). Little, by little, you regain decorum. You regain audience control. Almost.

One young boy, maybe 7 years old grins at you from the front row center. It’s not a sweet grin, it’s a devilish smirk. Hmmm, what next. He reaches forward with a hand and out shoots a stream of bright red liquid…ketchup. That kid, that devil’s-spawn, has ketchup packets in both hands and squeezes them until they squirt their contents across the front of the stage and down your pant leg. Squeals of joy. Deafening, shrill, pre-adolescent, peels of ear-piercing laughter. THAT show at the county club. THAT kid.

It’s been years now, maybe two or three, since that scene. The image was neatly filed away in memory, nearly forgotten…until this week. Another birthday party, another beautiful home, another group of curious party guests, another beaming birthday boy. The program begins and all is well with the world. Until the patio door flies open. In bursts a ruddy-faced, tousle-haired boy who interrupts by blurting out, “Hey, I know you. I saw you at the ______ Country Club!” The moment of recognition. THAT show at the Country Club. THAT kid.