Death of Bobo the giraffe makes us wonder what we are doing with animals in captivity
Bobo, seen in June 2023 at the Long Island Game Farm, was the second giraffe to die on Long Island last year. Credit: Tom Lambui
The death last year of Bobo the giraffe was a sad affair.
That feeling was rekindled when the story reemerged this past week with a U.S. Department of Agriculture report about Bobo's cause of death, and with the pushback on those findings from the Long Island Game Farm in Manorville, Bobo's home during warmer months and the place where he passed away in October.
The contretemps are over details, and while those are not insignificant, Bobo's passing should spark a larger question.
Giraffes on Long Island?
Bobo was beloved, to be sure, but his presence here seemed about as natural as a polar bear in the Amazon.
And it makes one wonder once again what we humans think we are doing with all the magnificent creatures in our captivity.
The first public displays of exotic animals were the menageries that served as demonstrations of the power and wealth of the rulers whose armies had captured them. They later became a way for colonial powers to showcase the strength and breadth of their conquests.
Now, we hear lots of talk about the importance of these captive creatures for conservation and education, which probably is needed given the negative impact humans are having on animals in their natural habitats. On the one hand we destroy, on the other we try to save. Perhaps we should call it collective penance for our collective guilt.
Which means the unfortunate specimens in captivity are sacrifices for the rest of their species. We take them from their brethren so we can learn how to preserve their brethren and, if all goes badly out there, to repopulate their brethren.
As time marches on, I find it progressively harder to feel good about this equation. But if we sincerely believe in the value of this mission and we are going to lock up these wonderful creatures for this righteous cause, we owe it to them and our own sense of self-worth to treat them with the utmost of care, dignity and respect. And that's not easy.
Bobo, as it turns out, was the second giraffe to die on Long Island last year. His demise followed the February 2023 death of an 8-year-old female at White Post Animal Farm in Melville whose head reportedly got caught in a rope barrier. A White Post representative told Newsday that the farm's giraffes live in a 10,000-square-foot habitat.
That's a big number and it sounds good, until you do the math. Ten thousand square feet is an area of 100 feet by 100 feet, the size of the suburban plot on which my modest single-family house stands. That serves as home for giraffes whose actual home range can be about 33 square miles in wetter areas where vegetation is plentiful and 580 square miles in drier areas.
The same math haunts the enclosures of zoos, game farms, aquariums, safari parks, theme parks, aviaries, reptile centers, petting zoos, and other animal exhibitions across the country, and indeed the world. In the U.S. alone, there are hundreds upon hundreds of these facilities.
We go to them, with regularity, our children and grandchildren in tow. We know that for the little ones there is little else that compares with animals as a source of imagery — in books, movies, music, toys, pajamas … and real life.
Those of us of a certain age bring with us dark memories of cages with cement floors and iron bars, and while we thankfully see little of that these days, we still note the tight boundaries and faux settings.
But last month, I also noted the wonder in the eyes of my grandson, not quite 2, as he watched the hippos swimming underwater at the aquarium in Camden, New Jersey, and the monkeys cavorting in the treetops at the Philadelphia zoo.
Saddened or amazed, we shed tears for Bobo and all the rest.
Columnist Michael Dobie's opinions are his own.
Michael Dobie is a member of the Newsday editorial board.
