THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, September 21, 1995 TAG: 9509210411
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Guy Friddell
LENGTH: Medium: 87 lines
Two sister Siberian tigresses ventured Wednesday morning into a brave new world and, satisfied after a thorough exploration, rolled in lush green grass and waved and kicked their huge paws.
Shere and Shaka Khan were home. At last.
They had waited three years in makeshift quarters in the Virginia Zoo in Norfolk at 3500 Granby St. while the Tidewater community raised $500,000 to fund the shaping of the 8,000-square-foot habitat, a virtual garden, God wot.
A waterway winds by trees and vines and dumps into a pool where tigers may play on a hot, humid day. At the back, a waterfall spills down a monumental rock cliff.
Saturday, from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m., the Virginia Zoological Society will fling a fun-filled party with music, kiddie rides, puppet and magic shows, costumed cartoon characters, dancers and talks about the animals.
Admission to the zoo is $2 for adults, $1 for children 2 to 11. Those younger than 2 are free. Shows, talks and festivities are free. Kiddie rides require a fee.
In 1992, U.S. Fish & Wildlife agents confiscated the two cubs from illegal dealers and sent them over to the Virginia Zoo for temporary care. Bob Young Jr., a zoo board member, enlisted his fellow Hampton Roads Exxon retailers to spearhead the drive for $250,000 to keep the pair in Hampton Roads.
The Exxon company gave $27,000 to top the goal. The Norfolk City Council matched the total.
Tuesday the big cats were tranquilized and moved on litters into the rock-faced den, off exhibit, where they can be separated from each other and from keepers by doors with remote controls.
The dens are antiseptic clean.
How fulfilling it would be to sleep there with one's head pillowed on a tiger's orange flank!
Wednesday morning, animal Supervisor Louise Hill and keepers Betty Schmitt and Vicki Hulett studied their charges, who seemed relaxed but alert.
When the door slid open between the two sisters, each went to examine the other's quarters, as if to see who had the better. Then Shere returned to butt her huge head against Shaka's in a tigerish caress.
All seemed well. The three women chatted with the two tigresses as if they were in a sewing circle.
A door slid open to the green and gold world where three dozen employees awaited the tigers' entry into the sun. Expectation was that Shaka, braver of the two in encountering something new, would come out first. But Shere tends to be the more curious one.
A half-hour passed. Shere's fierce face appeared at the hole in a crevice of the rock wall. Shouts encouraged her to come out. She did, in cautious steps, so dainty, so slow-motion that the very tip of the pad of each clawed paw seemed to curl like a ballerina's toe as she placed it fastidiously on the ground.
From within, Shaka watched Shere proceed to inspect the outdoors with the intensity of a tabby checking out a strange house.
The great cat studied the waterway, put a paw toward it and suddenly, gathering her sinews, she leaped, quick as a snapping rat trap, across the stream.
Behind barriers, human watchers gasped. A vast viewing window had been laced with shaving cream to alert the cats that it was a shield, not open space. Yellow bows were tied to nearly invisible, tightly strung stainless steel wires that enable feline and human kind to come close to each other safely.
Shere rolled over, displaying snow white, black striped underparts. She reared head high, and then, sensing that her sister was leaving the lair, craned her neck around in a great arc to greet her with a chuffing purr.
Coming in measured stride, her long length, tail-tip to nose, in profile framed in space, Shaka seemed larger than ever, an immense black and orange striped moving wall.
Observing her majesty, zoo Superintendent Gary Ochsenbein murmured, ``There are only 300 Siberian tigers remaining in the wild and only 357 in zoos and wildlife preserves worldwide.''
Bob Young was grinning. Pat McGlynn, Exxon's Tidewater manager, gave out decals bearing a big cat's face, proclaiming in bold black letters: ``I SAW THE TIGERS.'' They are among novelties to be distributed free Saturday.
He better order some more. ILLUSTRATION: Color staff photo by Paul Aiken
[Tiger in her new home]
[head shot of tiger]
by CNB