Bison dung is the heaviest thing I’ve ever dealt with, and there’s a lot. We pulled in a trash can and began the process of shoveling things inside the open barn floor of the barn. As it was summer, the sweltering heat of the barn mixed with the smell of manure made the stench even stronger. My arm muscles ached from shoveling shovels in the trash, and sweat ran down my eyes. It was a tiring task.
Once the warehouse was clean, we took half of the hay bales from the truck and loaded them inside. Sherry used a knife to cut the strips holding the bales together, and we each carried stacks of food to the bison feeder. Sherry also provides them with a supplement called herbivore pellets. Now that all the cleaning and food preparation is done, we just need to move the animals into the cage so we can clean up their outdoor area. First, we leave the barn and lock the door on our side, then Sherry pulls the second rope to reopen the barn door on their side. When the door opened, she shouted for them and banged on the wall of the food box.
In a herd of bison, the females—called “cows”—are the leaders. In this herd, the leader is the oldest female, and her name is Diana, which at first I thought was a silly name for a bison, but then again, Diana in god myth is the goddess of wildlife, so I decided it was a bison. a pretty respectable name after all. Diana trotted toward the barn ahead of her companions, and they all followed seriously. It was a strange sight to see them run towards us and then into the barn. They are huge and very beautiful, and they remind me of Native Americans and the wild west.
When we thought they were all in the barn, Sherry turned to me, “Before entering their yard, we need to make sure they’re out of the cage.” I turned to the yard to have a look, but Sherry explained, “No, we don’t check by looking at the yard, we check by looking at the barn. It’s easy to miss a ball in the yard, and that’s not a mistake you want to make. Don’t rely on what you can’t see, always count on what you can see!”
She walked to the barn window, and I followed. I counted each one silently as she counted out loud. One two three four five. We locked them in the barn.
As we entered their courtyard gate and started walking past the barn, that was the first time I noticed how large their space was—their yard was huge. As a visitor to the zoo on previous occasions, I could barely see them through their enclosure. Now that I was inside, I could see how far it had receded – almost to the entrance of the water. Considering that bison are essentially herbivores, I’m glad they have room to move around, but despite their size, they’ve scavenged most of their turf. In the wild, bison are vagrants—meaning they cover much of the ground, grazing as they move. Any area of the zoo would be too restrictive.
Sherry moved her rake to the right while I moved to the left, positioning myself under a canopy to help alleviate the summer heat. As I was scratching, I was just thinking about a beautiful day when Sherry yelled, “Hey Jeanie, find your way out!”
Startled, I turned around and asked, “Looking for what?”
“Whenever you work with these types of animals, you have to have an escape plan. If something happened, and the warehouse door was open, where would you go?” She stared at me with a stern look on her face.
I waited, hoping she would tell me.
“Look at the edge of the field. Right in front of the fence, there’s a big ditch and an electric fence,” she pointed, and I turned around and could see what I hadn’t noticed before, the electric fence running along the perimeter of the yard. .
“Oh, I see,” I said.
“That fence keeps the bison in, but there’s a lot of space under the bottom rope for humans to fit in,” she continued. “So be alert and aware of your surroundings, and always know the location of the nearest ditch. If you see a bison, don’t wait, run,” she said in a very serious voice. “Walk under the rope and fall right into the ditch, and they won’t be able to reach you there.”
“Okay, I will.” I paused, then asked, “Has that ever happened to you? Are bison kicked out of the barn?”
“ARE NOT. . .” “But there is always a first,” she said, returning to her task.
We worked together, and I felt like I was on high alert waiting for a bison to burst out of the barn. I try to relax and enjoy the beauty of the day, but I am conscious that I have just been taught to value these animals.
After raking and shoveling the manure, we went to the pickup truck to collect the remaining hay and started hauling the bales into the yard. We went out into the yard and checked three times to make sure the gate was closed and locked, then Sherry went to the left side of the barn and used the zipper to open the yard side door. Now the bison is free
wander.
taken from The Age of Spider Monkeys: And Other Revelations From Behind the Zoo.
Image of WikiImages from Pixabay
