ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SATURDAY, January 4, 1992                   TAG: 9201040204
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: E-2   EDITION: METRO  
SOURCE: MARGARET CAMP THE WASHINGTON POST
DATELINE: WASHINGTON                                LENGTH: Long


ZOO'S LOVING HANDS HELP REJECTED KANGAROO SURVIVE

Nobody knows why Rufus's mother rejected him. It may have been the stress of captivity, a lack of milk for her little firstborn or her own immaturity.

But six months ago, when a zoo visitor watched in horror as Rufus got the boot, even the National Zoo's veterinarians had little hope for the 6-inch, hairless joey, whose ears lay flat on his head and whose big black eyes showed no iris.

"I thought there was no way he was going to make it," zoo keeper Tammy Zaluzney said of that hot May day when Jan Lowstuter, who oversees the zoo's marsupial herd, rushed into the grassy pen, wrapped the squirming 3-month-old in her T-shirt and carried him to safety in the zoo's small veterinary clinic.

"Things that come up here are either very sick or very young," Zaluzney said of the hospital facility. "You have the choice between euthanizing them or trying to save them." In this case the zoo had no official policy, but no kangaroo had ever been hand-reared at the zoo.

Today, Rufus is a healthy 18 inches tall with every chance of maturing into a functioning adult in the zoo's herd of nine red kangaroos.

His survival is a remarkable story of commitment and love by four handlers who beat the odds with round-the-clock feedings and laundry loads as well as a daily ritual of kangaroo antics that literally upended their lives and households.

With a portable incubator set at 90 degrees and a batch of 12-by-18-inch cotton pouches left over from when the zoo saved two wallabies several years ago, the four women set to work to raise the hand-sized Rufus, who weighed 28 ounces.

To prevent infection of his limited immune system, the women wore fresh gowns, gloves and masks to handle him and washed and bleached his pouches after every feeding. To keep up with his demand for formula every two hours day and night, they took turns taking Rufus and his incubator home after work.

"We are lucky. It's a wonderful opportunity that I don't think any of us would trade for anything. But oh my gosh, it's been a lot of sleepless nights," said zoo keeper Jamie Bojan.

That, she would learn, was only the half of it.

The demanding part came a couple of times each day, when between the regimen of their normal jobs one handler would have to make time to hold Rufus in a cotton pouch and hop around the hospital, mimicking the movements he was supposed to be receiving from his mother. The stimulation is crucial to both the circulation and digestion of a young kangaroo.

"It felt very silly. We would do this little rain dance, hopping around and then dip to the left and right," Bojan said.

And if all this weren't enough, the team also had to worry about kangaroo stress, a real problem in marsupial babies, who are prone to life-threatening stomach ulcers.

The susceptibility put a damper on disciplining Rufus for such antics as chewing on Theresa Cummings's antique mahogany dining table and escaping from his covered playpen.

It also led to some interesting sleeping arrangements:

"The dogs would be in their room, the cats in another room and Rufus would be in a spare bedroom," Lowstuter said.

To comfort him, Cummings said, "I would sleep all night with him in the guest room. My husband and the dog would be in the master bedroom."

The problem is that kangaroos are diurnal, which means they are most active at dusk and dawn. Being naturally curious and a terrific jumper, Rufus ascended most of the furniture, to the shocked surprise of household pets and visitors.

By late July, the special care and tolerance appeared to be paying off, until suddenly Rufus came down with bacterial pneumonia, and his lungs filled with fluid that even heavy doses of antibiotics were hard-pressed to shake.

Treatment required intravenous fluids and a nebulizer attached to the incubator, as well as 24-hour monitoring as Rufus hovered near death.

But soon Rufus was back to himself, downing his usual hefty portions of alfalfa pellets and fruit and vegetables, including carrots, grapes, sweet potatoes and kale, and looking to his human mamas for care and company.

Adult kangaroos, Cummings explained, can be dangerous. Although speed is their main defense (they can hop 20 mph), they sometimes will stand and fight with their powerful back feet and can rip open a person with a slice of their toe.

But at 11 months of age, Rufus loves to play and act up. His favorite maneuver is to hop forward and kick both feet to the side, which his handlers have dubbed his "Toyota kick." Another is to run and careen into a somersault.

It could be another six months before Rufus is ready to join the other kangaroos, including a young female about his age, in the grassy pen. After a few months there, he soon will forget the humans who worked so hard to save his life.

Even today, in the presence of a reporter, Rufus appears to have had enough of the Homo sapiens in his midst. After an hour out and about, he turns away from his visitors and runs back to his pouch - suspended from a door to imitate mom - and in one continuous movement, he grabs the edge with both front paws, takes a wild leap and dives in headfirst.



by Archana Subramaniam by CNB