#ericknova

Hey there, hippie-viking!

I’ve got some early input while talking about your question to some of my co-workers that happened to be waiting in line at the on-site Starbucks (with a cheeky plesiosaur in the place of the siren mascot…you’ve gotta see it for yourself).

How do you breed the Stegosaurus?Intern: “Not yet.”

How does that mating work?Jameson: “Very…very carefully.”

They’re…not wrong. We’re not looking to particularly encourage breeding between our three Stegosaurus. It’d be a lovely surprise to have a random clutch of steg eggs in the barn, but it’s not exactly a must-do goal for our husbandry team (at least, not yet). They seem pretty happy in their own little triad, in addition to the Kentrosaurus that also live in their enclosure.

But, animals do tend to show colorful behaviors as they mature. To keep things simple…eh, just read under the cut.

Warning: Graphic content/sexual anatomy.

Some people (and by “some people,” I mean exclusively my mother) have been wondering, “Where on Earth has he been?” Yes, yes. I have been working sixteen-hour shifts for the past… Uh… Well, I’m not too sure how long it’s been, to be perfectly honest. When you’ve got a zoo full of wonders, laughter, and horrors, you just kinda forget about that funny thing called time.

For our long-distance guests (yes, YOU!), you’ll all be happy to learn the park and her inhabitants been doing wonderfully – flourishing, even. It’s a little strange, actually. Some days I wonder what’d happen if we just killed all the barriers and let the animals roam amongst themselves… It’d be an expensive science project, indeed. Even with our mile-long laundry list, I think our animals have all pretty much fallen into the swing of things. They’re celebrities. And, like every celebrity, all circumstantial events and planning revolves around them. Satiated for the time being, I do believe it’s time to shed some light on what we’ve been working so hard on planning and integrating:

Our spinosaurid enclosures – Deadly Shores – and the Campanian Plains (hadrosaurs…hadrosaurs everywhere – and a random ceratopsid) are ready to receive visitors this weekend!

Some may wonder – “Your first dinosaur was a Suchomimus. Why on Earth did it take so long to put these things on display?” To which, I respond: “Ever try to make a Suchomimus and a Spinosaurus play nice?” The logistics of housing so many large theropods (that are not a family unit) in such close quarters had our engineers and behaviorists scratching their heads. Original plans called for a loosely-partitioned wetland. Some in upper management wanted full integration between all the spinosaurs. Back and forth, back and forth. We’ve come to a lovely middle ground that I think you’ll all appreciate!

As for the Campanian Plains, our experimental guest-to-animal interaction technology has finally been greenlit by our behaviorists! Callboxes on tall observation decks will allow our visitors to “talk” to the chatty Parasaurolophus!

Aren’t they handsome?

One of our biggest issues was sorting out the meaning behind every para call we’ve cataloged for this project (can you imagine what’d happen if every honk in our callboxes caused a stampede?). For months, I’ve been sitting with other ornithodira handlers watching candid footage of our parasaurs filmed from drones, security cameras, and what have you to see which behaviors followed each call. Many cups of coffee and greasy boxes of pizza were consumed.

Thank you so much for giving us such wonderful feedback and comments! I heard we’ve broken the 500-follower mark.

And by that, I mean I was the one who had to tackle the kulinda carrying the banner.

Hello, anon!

It’s a balancing act, really. There are a few “must have”s, y’know? What’s a paleozoo without a Triceratops, Tyrannosaurus, and friends? At the same time, we wanted to introduce a slew of organisms not quite in the public eye. For instance, ask any bloke on the street what a Boluochia is, or a Shuvuuia? They’d probably think those are exotic foods (and illegal to harvest!).

At the same time, we needed to be thoughtful of logistics. The first thing: location. We’re located in a tropical/temperate artificial extension of the Australian coast. It’s pretty warm here, most the time! This is why only a handful of our enclosures (aquarium withheld) are indoors, and all of our outdoor animals are flourishing or have acclimated comfortably.

We’ve also purposely avoided creating the largest prehistoric animals to be mindful of our current space limitations and available food. Animals (whose genomes still exist somewhere in our archives, I’m sure) that were axed from the list early were Argentinosaurus, Livyatan (and, by extension, all extinct cetaceans), and so on. Brachiosaurus, Spinosaurus, Mosasaurus, and C. megalodon were all hotly contended for this reason, as well (many PowerPoint presentations were made and shared during board meetings).

There are many, many more things that come into play when considering an animal for de-extinction! But, I think you get the general idea.

Thanks again!

I might be a little biased, but the parasaurs have been a challenge for me to deal with. They’re so loud. All of the animals have their quirks (Big Blue likes to bump against boats, the Pteranodon love to projectile-vomit on the glass and acrylic, etc.), but only the parasaurs have given me physical headaches

I ended up having to carry a pair of earplugs whenever I had to get into the plains to sort things out (water cannon, anyone?).

We’ve been getting a lot of asks and comments about escaped animals. Truth be told, we haven’t had much happen during our open sessions. During the zoo’s construction, we’d get the occasional slip-up. Nothing major. A kulinda here, a dodo here, a plesiosaur pup in the duck pond... All things considered, we’ve done a pretty good job of keeping all the animals where they’re supposed to be. This morning, however, was the first time that I actually felt...scared.

I was running some routine maintenance with some other handlers at the raptor complex -- camera adjustments, making sure the locking mechanisms on the doors worked, vending machine restocking, food chute cleaning -- that kind of stuff. We reconvened in the control room to talk about changes made and yadayadayada, employee stuff. Someplace, somewhere, one of the main power lines had a little bit of a problem. And, well, by a little bit, I mean we were left in pitch darkness inside the compound control room. 

“What was that?”

“Power’s gone. We’re...uncomfortably close to the raptors, too.”

“I could’ve sworn I’ve seen this before.”

“Nova?”

“Yeah, I’ll check it out.”

I was intending on leaving the building to see if this was a facility-wide power issue. My phone was out.

I made a perfect 180 right back into the control room. As the kids say, “Nope.”

Clearly, we all made it out. The auxiliary power came back on within the next few minutes, and we had an ops team coerce the domaeosaur (it was a Deinonychus, I think) back into its enclosure. The power surge left one of the food dispensers open, which let the animal scurry up the chute into the animal maintenance/security compound. I’ll have a word with management soon.

In the meantime, I’m thinking of taking up martial arts. Maybe firearm training. Joining the military?

Hey, anon!

Cetaceans are…tricky. I don’t know if there are any plans in the near or distant future to add a stock of cetaceans to our growing menagerie, but I’m leaning more towards “no.” The amount of dedication and research put into caring our extinct aquatic life is incredible. Now, add the social stimulation needed for a psychologically healthy family of cetaceans, and that’s a headache for the record books!

If any new developments come through – clearance for more space, even better refined husbandry practices, etc. – we’ll be sure to let you all know.

“Jensen, how much sauropod feed have we got left in storage? The ranger depot’s running low.”

“Negative five tonnes.”

“…negative five tonnes?”

“We had to dip into the other species’ reserves to keep up with demand.”

This is a discussion that we have regularly around these parts. There’s a reason why we have so few of the larger animals. Their dining bills are through the roof, and they don’t even tip us. They don’t have opposable thumbs, nor the ability to read, and therefore cannot circle the varying amounts of 10, 15, 18, and 20 percent. If they could, I also assume they wouldn’t. They’d be those customers.

Work on Vista View’s final installment – The Conway Trail – has completed. I took a picture of Loretta, one of my interns, with one of our two brachs in the background on the aforementioned trail (I can’t tell which one -- their head crests have different markings, but it’s very difficult to see in this shot). With the pathway’s finalization, the gigantic enclosure has completed all phases of construction (maintenance withheld). And for those of you who are worried that the brachs, camarasaurs, or brontosaurs will squash any guests -- fear not! Low-frequency soundboxes built along the trail deter them from getting too close.

My work isn’t over, however, as I have to begin overseeing the final touches and facilitate the introduction of animals in several other soon-to-be-revealed attractions. Hold onto your hats, folks. It’s going to be a fun time.

The Huxley Paleozoo will never be finished. If anyone ever declares this place “finished,” consider it under new management. The fauna and flora here require constant care and attention, and as our first wave of construction and fine-tuning concludes, you can always expect even just the slightest bit more.