Even "Good" Weather Can Be Toxic to the Depressed

I'm struggling today.

To be perfectly truthful I've been struggling a lot, off and on this winter and early spring. I have heard from a lot of friends in similar situations who have also struggled this winter. I am certain this has a great deal to do with the weather; at least, it does if you live in our area of North America. I know a lot of people out there likely can't comprehend how the mildest winter (in Toronto) in many, many years could possibly have a negative effect on anyone. Let me try to explain it, at least as I feel it.

My depression keeps me in a more or less constant state of struggling to find peace and balance; meaningfulness in my daily activities; order and structure and consistency among the chaos. It's difficult enough to find these things in situations where I have at least some semblance of control; when things are absolutely beyond my control – such as the weather – I have to rely on expected patterns to emerge and remain relatively constant. As I get stronger (it's not yet been two years since I sought help) the bumps and hiccoughs in life become ever smoother, in part because these, too, eventually form a pattern of recurrence that I can refer to when I am feeling anxious. But no matter how strong I eventually do get, my life's story has made me keenly aware that the best I can do is keep my depression in "remission" for as long as possible and that it's vitally important to stay on top of any dips that last just a bit too long.

How this is impacted by the weather (for me, at least) is actually quite simple. Even in Toronto, where locals know the lines between seasons are anything but crisp and well-defined, a winter like we've just had is exceptionally unusual. I've read that the El Niño effect this year was the strongest ever recorded. It might be easy for many people to look at the mild temperatures we had and be thankful we didn't get down to the extended record lows of just one year ago. But my depression won't let me take that attitude. I can't see the long periods of warmth as a blessing of any kind; rather, I have spent huge chunks of the past winter waiting for the other shoe to drop. Winter never really hit – not in any meaningful, Canadian way – and that made it impossible for me to get on any kind of a mental schedule. On top of that, every time we had a prolonged period of spring-like weather, it was inevitably followed by a drop in temperature and a series of dismal days that, had they occurred in a natural pattern, would have been tolerable. But they didn't...and they weren't. It felt like the whole winter was one long February. It felt like I was on a leash and every time I was able to see some progress being made, something yanked on the other end of it and pulled me back toward darkness. You see, when you're depressed a succession of good days is not what you notice, but rather a series of what feel like crushing blows. And this winter, for all its good days for many people, had a very long series of crushing blows.

Today in Toronto we woke up to a big dumping of snow overnight. And it's April the 4th. Do we often get one last dumping in Toronto in April? Yes, we do. But then it ordinarily follows a winter of normal weather patterns. If we're not going to have snow for Christmas; if I can have my shorts on in my home (with the heater off) for much of February and March; if we can hear red-winged blackbirds before St. Patrick's Day; well, then a snowfall in April is just a slap in the face. No thank you, Mother Nature. Bring winter on time, or just skip it altogether. Ain't nobody got time for that, indeed.

I did manage to keep my streak alive by going out first thing this morning and driving Sarah to the subway, which was a good idea since I've had zero interest in going back out into the world since I got back home. At least that very small pressure was removed.

My Nature Bright 10,000-lux lamp

Many of you reading this post have known me long enough to realize that complaining about winter weather is very unusual for me. I love snow. I prefer cold days to hot. Last February when Toronto broke records for consecutive days of frigid temperatures, I was in my glory because it was sunny, sunny, sunny all the time. It was just about the easiest February I have ever had. I far prefer weather I can anticipate, but especially if it comes with brilliant sunshine. I have a light therapy lamp which I make use of regularly and it is a huge help with my Seasonal Affective Disorder. I am supposed to use it for 30 minutes every day; I realized back in January that I hadn't been doing so and I really noticed a difference once I got back on track. If you are in the same situation as me, I can't recommend highly enough that you go out and get one of these lamps for yourself. If you click on the photo on the right, it will take you to the amazon.ca page for this item.

It's not all been about the weather for me, of course. There have been a trilogy of court cases in the past couple of months that have come to very disappointing conclusions. There is the ongoing debacle of the GOP race in the States, impossible to escape even in Canada. There was the sudden re-insertion of the Ford family in the daily news cycle. There was the struggle to find an accommodation with the Zoo that would allow me to Volunteer through the winter months. There has been an ongoing trial with an amphetamine to see if it will help combat my lifelong ADHD. All of these have been, of course, major factors in the tough slogging I've found this year so far. But the weather yo-yo has been far and away the biggest culprit, borne out by the fact that so many others I know are finding this to be a very difficult year and virtually all of them have faced none of the other things I mentioned in this paragraph.

However.

Even after having written all of that – which I hope helped to shed some sort of light on my own situation – I want to make this clear: this post, cathartic as it may be, was not created for me. I hope those of you who are struggling right now and have been following my own amazing progress with my depression and anxiety will read this and understand that it's not a perfect recovery. That there are going to be struggles that will make you wonder if you're slipping back into despair.

You're not.

If you are feeling out of sorts right now and you have no real mitigating factor you can pin it on – illness, family woes, job loss, etc. – don't assume the worst. Consider outside factors that might not be on your radar, Think about when you had your worst days this year and see if you can remember (or look up) what the weather was doing those days.

It's been easy for me to post about all of my obvious successes over the past 24 months. Those are fun to read about and even more fun to write about. But I also consider today a "success", ironically. I am struggling. Scuffling hard. And I have felt more than once like going to bed, pulling the covers over my head, and sleeping this day away. I've felt like pouring myself a tumbler full of whisky and getting lost in it. I've felt like throwing up my hands and allowing the hopelessness and despair to wash over me. But I've battled through it, because I am very much aware that that is precisely what depression wants you to do. It is a liar and a bastard. And it's a tenacious opponent. And struggling is still one hell of a lot better than not struggling, which I have spent several years doing. Or not doing, I suppose. If you're feeling the same way: keep at it. Remember to breathe, Find some light and sit in it. Read more posts like this one. Write a post like this one, even if you show it to nobody. And if you can't do any of those things, please remember this:

It's not your fault.

2016 Connecting with Animals Calendar – April Story

Jupiter (L) and Venus during an enrichment session

Dora. Or maybe Vera. Hmm. 

One of the biomes at the Toronto Zoo is the "Tundra". The path through it – known as the "Tundra Trek" – is probably about a kilometre or so long as it meanders past animals of the far north of our country and offers insights into the lodgings and medicines and overall lifestyles of the hardy aboriginals (the Inuit) who co-inhabit this harsh habitat with those animals; It's quite a nice little stroll even now, but it has recently become sadly quite lacking in quantity (if not quality) of the animals on display. As you begin the "Trek" counter-clockwise from next to the Tundra zip line ride, you first encounter the domain of the Arctic wolves. For the better part of 15 years this area was populated by a rather large pack; as age took its toll they began to die off until there was one solitary male left named Loki. At that time, Loki was "retired" down to the Canadian Domain and we brought up a young triumverate of Chinook (male) and Dora and Vera (females who, I believe, are sisters) in the hopes that they will breed and begin their own large pack. For now there are just the three, but they are quite spry and lively and really very beautiful.

Juno showing a stick what's what

At the next stop on your tour you will find what is easily the signature animal of the tundra: the polar bear. At the moment the huge enclosure houses four bears: Aurora and Nikita, twin sisters who came to the Zoo as orphans 15 years ago; Inukshuk, who also arrived as an orphan but two years after the girls; and Juno, the newest creation of the Inukshuk-Aurora pairing, who was born on November 11 of last year (hence her name). Juno has two full brothers – Hudson and Humphrey – who are now living it up in a gorgeous exhibit called "The Journey to Churchill" at the Assiniboine Park Zoo in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Juno is the first female polar bear cub at the Toronto Zoo since her mom and aunt arrived in early 2001. She is every bit as full of life as her two older siblings and, after a slow start, has nearly caught up to them in size and agility. She's pretty adorable, all in all.

But from there the pickings become rather slim.We have one snowy owl who has been on his own for quite some time now. There is one caribou left from the herd that was formerly split up to populate both the Tundra and Eurasia walkthroughs. There is nothing where the snow geese used to be and the geese themselves have been moved to a location farther along the trail. They now inhabit the last exhibit before you reach the end. The exhibit that used to display the Arctic foxes. Because we have none left, at the moment. And that makes me quite sad.

Cody

When I first started at the Zoo there were two Arctic foxes, one male and one female. The male (pictured here) was Cody; I don't recall the female's name but she wasn't around for long after I came on board. Some time in late 2013, we acquired two very young females to be companions for Cody, but he had already begun a steep decline himself and passed away that winter. The girls – Jupiter and Venus – occupied the exhibit together for a while after that, but you might notice something a bit "off" about the photo at the top of this page. I took that shot in late July of 2014 when both girls should have been the cookie-brown that Jupiter is displaying; for some reason, Venus never molted to the point where she fully changed colour that spring. Arctic foxes are not at the top of their food chain, so they need to rely somewhat on camouflage for protection against predators. In the winter they are the whitest white you will ever see, matching the snow-covered environment around them. When the snow melts in the brief Arctic summer, the foxes change to a brown-and-white combination (heavy on the brown) to blend in with the sedge and shrub coverage of the landscape. Wolves don't need to use this trick, so they just shed their thick winter coat but remain white all year round. So by the thickest heat of a Toronto summer, both Venus and Jupiter should have had very little white fur remaining. The fact that Venus still had most of hers was cause for concern. However, it makes for a pretty incredible (and rare) photo: two Arctic foxes, side-by-side, coloured completely differently from each other. That's the main reason I chose this photo for the 2016 calendar, even though neither girl is still with us. Something is amiss in that exhibit, it seems, and I can't get a clear answer as to what that is. It's possible it hasn't even been figured out yet. One thing seems certain, though: it's doubtful we'll see any more of this adorable species on our Tundra Trek until we can be sure they'll not suffer the same fate as the last three (at least).


The day I captured the image of Jupiter and Venus and that red ball was during "Zookeeper Week" and the foxes were receiving a special enrichment session that particular day. The ball was full of crickets! There were also several of the chirping bugs scattered about the tall grass of the exhibit and I managed to take some other really cute photos of the girls. Here is the "Bonus Material" for April. I hope you enjoy it!!

S-T-R-E-E-E-E-T-C-H!! Venus is awake!

Jupiter does a target session

Venus hears a cricket....

....and POUNCES!!

Listening for more snacks

Venus attentively watching her keeper leave

I hope that, in the near future, the Tundra Trek becomes a fulfilling and worthwhile walk again. When it was full of life – wolves, bears, owls, caribous, geese, foxes – it was just about my favourite place to hang out in the whole Zoo. In the meantime, I am exceedingly grateful I happened to be there with friends on the day these two gorgeous creatures got some special treats. I will always treasure these photos. 

Tune in again next month for some Fun with Flightless Feathered Friends! 

2016 Connecting with Animals Calendar – March Story

Er Shun in her "Mona Lisa" pose

Last month I posted some "bonus material" of the white lion cubs that were born last fall. This set off quite a "Baby Boom" at the Toronto Zoo and the next to appear were two tiny but adorable giant panda cubs, born in the early morning hours of October 13, 2015, to the beautiful 8-year-old Er Shun, this month's "featured animal", It's especially good timing that I chose March as her month because those same bundles of cute – the first ever born in Canada – will make their official public debut on March 12th. Of course, by then they will already have been viewed in their exhibit by Zoo staff, volunteers, members, friends of members, and anyone watching one of presumably several dinner-hour newscasts on March 7th, the day the media and "VIPs" get to see them. This is known in the biz as a "soft open" (and all of those other viewings will take place in March as well). But "officially"? March 12th, the first Saturday of March Break here in Toronto. And now, about this photo above....

Da Mao out for a stroll in the snow

I try very hard (and for the most part have succeeded) not to include any fencing or wires or such distracting items of "containment" in my calendar photos. This photo (left) of Da Mao which I took a couple of years ago is a good example. It's not always easy and in some cases requires some adjustment in "post-production", but in the case of March's photo I thought the shot was so strong in and of itself that the fence behind Er Shun's exhibit just sort of fades into the background. And it's easily the best shot I have ever taken of her, in my opinion. I took several shots of her on this January afternoon, a day warm enough that she chose to spend time outside in her "front yard" rather than stay inside her day room. As is the norm for both of our giant pandas, in most of the pictures she is eating or selecting her food, because pandas have to eat for about 14-16 hours a day just to sustain basic bodily functions (and they sleep for the other 8-10 hours). Panda bears have a diet which consists of bamboo virtually exclusively; however, they lack the proper herbivore's digestive system to extract the maximum nutrition and energy from their food. They have adapted in many ways to this diet, but they still must eat or forage for nearly every waking hour of their lives. They also poop up to 40 times a day, a fact which causes much amusement to pretty much every school group I have ever led through the Panda Interpretive Centre.

So it's very rare for me to capture an image of them in which they are looking directly at the camera. It's rarer still for Er Shun to do this while sitting outside on her wooden climbing apparatus, in full view of the wonderful picture window that the Zoo installed a few months after their arrival, replacing the screen that made it exceptionally difficult to take a clear, crisp photo of this beautiful lady. And when you take all of that rarity into consideration and mix it with an imitation of La Gioconda's enigmatic little grin, well....you get the image you see above. I am exceptionally pleased with this shot!

Here are a couple of other "finalists" for the honour of "Requisite Panda Photo" in this year's calendar:

Er Shun, looking like a Ken Do warrior

Da Mao happily snoozing in his beloved snow

Another eye-contact shot of Er Shun; this time she's eating!

Now. About those cubs.....

Day 1: the boy is on the left, girl on the right

Week 6: "twin-swapping", one cub with mom at a time

Week 16: Play time!

These photos (and many, many others) can be found on the Toronto Zoo's website. There are videos there, too, including this one, narrated by Maria Franke, which is currently being shown in the Panda Interpretive Centre:

As I write this, in late February, there is still a naming contest going on...but it will be over by the time this posts. Sometime in March we will learn which names were chosen. And then we'll all finally get to see them live and in person. Which will be pretty awesome, I'm not going to lie to you, but...I'm waiting for my first glimpse of our brand-new baby Indian rhino boy.

But then, if you've been following this blog, you already knew all about that.... :)

Ashakiran – "Ray of Hope"

Ashakiran's smile

In November of 2012, I began my 10-week training course in order to become a Year-Round Volunteer at the Toronto Zoo. Our class met every Friday – the day I chose to stick with as my "regular shift" – for an intensive eight-hour session which included many opportunities to practice what we were learning. In the middle of those 10 weeks (in December) we broke from our studies for two weeks of "shadowing" a veteran Volunteer to watch how he or she ran a tour. This was followed by a three-week break for Christmas, but we were encouraged to do more shadowing if we wished to gain as much experience as possible. My mentor, Glen, was another Friday Volunteer and, after the two required weeks, I asked if he had any more tours scheduled for the next week, December 21, and would he mind if I accompanied him one more time? He looked into it and discovered he was leading a very special tour: a behind-the-scenes visit for a Grade 8 class. I had to get special permission from my amazing Volunteer Coordinator, Karen, to be allowed to tag along, as it was extremely likely that nobody else in my class of approximately 30 trainees would have the same opportunity. I did receive that permission, with the proviso that I simply watch and listen and not get in the way of the students' experience, as they had paid a lot of extra money to be allowed this chance. As the big day approached, we learned that one half of the class would be visiting the giraffes in the morning and the camels in the afternoon, while the other half would see the Indian rhinos followed by the giraffes. As luck would have it, Glen and I led the group which went to the rhino house. I didn't know it at the time, but this twist of fate would change my life forever.

This, then, is the story of how I met Ashakiran for the first time. 

Amanda feeding Asha some of her favourite treats

We were greeted at the rhino house by John Armstrong, a keeper who began his career at the Toronto Zoo almost exactly one month after it opened in 1974. I took an instant shine to his manner and character, and was looking forward to the opportunity to learn from him. Glen and I brought up the rear of the line of students and teachers as we passed through the fence gate and headed for the back of the building, entering into the big kitchen. John had prepared a bucket of carrots, each cut into two pieces, and began to hand them out to the students while talking about the rhinos and preparing the kids for the encounter they were about to have. I tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible – as had been requested of me – but John was having none of this. He tossed carrots at Glen and me and insisted we have a chance to get involved in the feeding as well. The group of us headed out of the kitchen and into a kind of "runway" along the wire fence (similar in style to the one in the photo here) at the north end of the paddock where we all spread out and stood a bit awkwardly, holding our carrots, while John called out to Ashakiran, who was strolling around the grass on this unseasonably warm December day. She turned to look at him, took note of the smell of the delicious goodies, and ambled over slowly and magnificently. She was an impressive beast up close, to be sure.

Grumpy P at the polar bear table with his red winter coat

One by one the young lads and lasses were encouraged to approach the fence and feed Asha. John repeatedly and forcefully reminded all of us of the importance of being absolutely sure we kept our arms above the third "rail" when we fed her, as passing a limb through the more inviting second gap could result in instant loss of said limb should Asha suddenly raise up her enormous head for any reason. Each person feeding her was instructed to hold out the carrot on an open palm and let Asha stick out her semi-prehensile upper lip (see the photo above) to grab the treat and pull it (and, usually, the hand) into her mouth. While I found this experience to be positively exhilarating – and took the opportunity to rub Asha on and around her nubby horn after she took the carrot from me – several of the younger folk were a bit "grossed out" by the sensation and began to look for a place to wipe the saliva off of their hands. I let a few of them use the hem of my well-worn knee-length red coat (seen in this photo) and that seemed to do the trick. There were more carrot pieces than attendees, so John let a few of us feed Asha multiple times if we wished. I fed her at least twice more, because I really couldn't get enough of her gentleness and the sensation of that upper lip caressing my palm. After a while, we were out of carrots and John moved to the far end of the runway, near the outdoor hay "dispenser", and the class moved down there while he continued to talk about the rhinos and his work at the Zoo. Ashakiran followed them all to that end while I stayed behind, my back against the wall of the other end, trying to process the events that had just taken place. 

Ashakiran on a breeding day (Vishnu in background)

At some point Asha realized that there were no more carrots forthcoming and became bored with the wait. She turned around and headed back to where I was standing, which was a thrilling sight. When she reached me she sniffed loudly and then stuck her head into the lowest gap in the fence, extended her upper lip as far as it could go, and proceeded to pull the hem of my (no doubt yummy-smelling) winter coat into her mouth. Having already interacted with this huge beast, I thought nothing of gently tugging back on my coat until I had retrieved it from her, all the while murmuring "No, Asha, no," and rubbing her on top of her horn and along her right cheek. Once I had my coat back I straightened up a little and focused again on the class and the lesson, but continued to rub and "scritch" Asha absent-mindedly. After a little while I suddenly realized what I was doing and brought my hand away with a start, thinking "Oh my goodness, I'm patting a rhinoceros!" Asha, of course, was considerably less impressed by this idea, so she opened her right eye, looked at me, and brought her head closer to the fence so I would be encouraged to go right on with my rubbing. I was over the moon and I continued to do her bidding until it was time for all of us to depart the area. We thanked John profusely and walked across the Zoo to the old giraffe house for our next encounter. Along the way, I noticed that not only was I lost in thought but the entire class was silently contemplating the incredible experience they had just shared. 

Rhino love

Most of you reading this will know of my ongoing struggle with depression and anxiety. I've spoken of it at great length on social media, encouraging others to break through the stigma of mental health issues. When I began my training at the Zoo, I was just on the cusp of a major "dip" in my own depressive cycle. The encounter I had that day with Ashakiran was a life-altering experience without even a hint of hyperbole. After that I knew without a doubt that I was destined to spend my time left on this planet focusing on the plight of animals and their habitats, and trying to encourage children to share this passion. While there are myriad species of animals I adore – both at the Zoo and elsewhere – it is this 11-year-old greater one-horned rhinoceros who is my absolute individual favourite of all time. I do not for a second think it's a coincidence or a surprise that her name, translated from Sanskrit, means "Ray of Hope."

Playing "hard to get"?

On some of my darkest days I would be sure to drop in to see if I could spend some time with my sweetie, whether inside the house or in the yard. I have spent many hours just quietly standing and watching her go about her business, and many's the time that I have converted friends and other Zoo guests to the belief that she is one of the most beautiful creatures on the planet. And for several consecutive "cycles" she had (which only occur every 56 days or so) it seemed I was on hand to witness the breeding process. It got to the point where one of the rhino keepers dubbed me the "breeder-whisperer." But for all the hanky-panky that went on, it seemed to be very difficult for Ashakiran to become pregnant again; she had miscarried a calf in, I believe, 2011 and many of us – John especially – were very anxious for her to have another chance. In the summer of 2014 it looked like she might finally be on her way, as she missed a cycle, but later that year I saw her and Vishnu back out together and I knew what that meant. It was upsetting enough that I stopped asking the keepers if she was pregnant from that point through the winter and into the spring of last year. Little did I know, however, that the last time I saw them breeding was the magic moment.

That sweet, sweet face

Last April, as I was gazing out at Asha in her paddock, John came up behind me and asked, "Does she look bigger to you?" I spun around with a huge grin and said, "Are you kidding me??" He wasn't. Asha was well on her way this time, having carried a pregnancy through the winter. I kept this information to myself at his request for a week or so, until the beans were spilled at a Volunteer meeting later in the month on a day where it had been learned that she had reached the progesterone spike they had been waiting for. From then on, with the help of an oral progesterone supplement suggested by the Cincinnati Zoo, it looked more and more promising for all concerned. The target date was sometime in February of this year (the gestation period of an Indian rhino is about 16 months) with many people saying the math suggested February 5th but John (who retired last fall) insisting it would be around the 17th. So, for probably the first time in my life, I actively wished for February to hurry up and arrive. And when it did, I visited Asha every single day but one for the first 16 days. I watched her get bigger and bigger; I watched her grow more uncomfortable; I watched the maintenance crew put up a fence in the front of her indoor enclosure so that a newborn would not wander off and fall into the pool. And I got more and more excited every day. And then, on the afternoon of February 17th, I went into the rhino house to find Vishnu sleeping by the keeper door. I waited there a short time and then I heard a strange sound coming from the back pens: a kind of lowing sound that I had never heard before but could only be coming from Asha. Then she smashed into the metal door, over and over, apparently with her horn. Once she stopped doing that for a while, the lowing began again. Labour had clearly begun. I went home super-excited, knowing that it could still take a couple of days, but also fully aware that John had predicted the 17th – that very day – all along. So it was really no surprise when I heard from a keeper the next day at noon that Ashakiran had given birth to a healthy calf – a son – at 9:42 the night before. And I was thrilled when Dr. Bill Rapley told everyone at the Volunteer meeting that evening about the birth, so I didn't have to keep it a secret any longer. 

And then the next day, the Toronto Zoo posted this picture on social media:

Ashakiran and son

And I could no longer hold it in. I wept openly for quite a while, because of everything this little baby  – and his beautiful mother – means to me. There has been a hell of a baby boom at the Zoo recently. The lion cubs are adorable. The panda cubs defy description and will be on display in a couple of weeks. I have had a couple of chances to see the unfairly cute polar bear cub, Juno, and have already made impactful eye contact with her. All of these pale in comparison, though, to this one birth. And honestly: has there been a more beautiful photo of any mother and baby at our Zoo in the past many years than the one above, taken by Matt (another rhino keeper)?

I love all the other seven babies (and there are more to come). But this one? This one brings me peace. This one brings me hope. This one brings me a new "happy place."

And I could not possibly be prouder of any animal than I am of Ashakiran. Ray of Hope? More than she'll ever know.

2016 Connecting with Animals Calendar – February Story

Lindy (L) and Jerroh – true brotherly love

If you're reading this post, congratulations: you've survived January 2016! What a month that was. Aside from all the stunning deaths in the entertainment world, it seemed to me that virtually everyone in my quite-extended circle of friends had periods of varying length where they were going through really rough times. In my own case, the month began with wicked colds that knocked Sarah and me off of our feet for a few days; once I had more or less recovered, I had a few days of peace and then a crash into near-depression seemingly out of nowhere. Maybe there's something to this "Mercury retrograde" thing after all.

....nah. It's just January, typically the "bluest" month of the year in the upper northern hemisphere. There's a reason Bell's "Let's Talk" day comes in January.

But that was last month. It's over. You made it. And this month? Well, this month features my favourite image of the 13 included in this year's calendar. 

You can be forgiven if you think the beautiful tawny lions in February's photo are a loving, mixed-gender couple. In fact, I kind of counted on that possibility when I chose to place this picture opposite the month of Valentine's Day. But the truth is they are 15-year-old brothers, born at the Toronto Zoo on July 14, 2000. They were the second and third cubs for dad Rowdy and mom Nokanda; older brother Simba had already been transferred to Parc Safari in Quebec where he has been a fairly prolific father himself. Lindy and Jerroh were the most recent cubs to have been born at the Toronto Zoo prior to the arrival of our four little white bundles of joy last September. Rowdy was a much-beloved lad who lived to the ripe old age of 20; he passed away in 2011 only two months after his adoring partner Nokanda died in August of the same year. And, as you can see from the above-left photo, Nokanda was a beautiful white lioness. 

Because there isn't nearly as much demand for male lions in Zoos across North America as there is for females – and because Lindy and Jerroh were the second and third of an incredible seven male cubs born in Toronto this millennium (with nary a girl in sight) – the decision was made to keep the happy family together as a unit. This necessitated the neutering of the two boys so they would not grow up to "challenge" their father. I have received conflicting information as to whether Lindy's castration was slightly too late to completely ward off puberty, or whether it didn't "take" 100%, or if there is some other reason, but Lindy managed to grow a "mini-mane" before its progress ceased. It's not nearly as magnificent as his dad's (nor, for that matter, the Zoo's current white lion patriarch, Fintan) but it's clearly enough to be able to tell the two boys apart. They grew up to be quite large for their species and have always been very close to each other, by all accounts.

Ever since the young white lion pride arrived in 2012, Lindy and Jerroh have shared time with them in the public exhibit, The "cuteness factor" gave the whites prime-time exposure for the most part; on the infrequent occasions I have seen these two old boys on display I seem to have kept my camera at my hip, as I can't find very many shots of them in my collection. On this particular sunny January afternoon last year, as Sarah and I entertained our young cousin at the Zoo and showed her around the African savanna mostly for the exercise, I wasn't sure we'd see any of the magnificent big cats in our lion collection. It seemed especially unlikely once we had approached the front of the exhibit and found the heated den to be devoid of any feline presence. I am fairly certain we assumed at that point that they were all in the "house", or perhaps in transition from one grouping to the other. We briefly scanned the visible area and then moved on through the tunnel that splits the exhibit, toward the rest of the savanna. I hadn't even taken my camera out of its sling bag, which is....well, let's just say I really should know better. As we passed through the tunnel I suddenly spied a burst of beautiful golden fur through one of the windows on my right. I took in my breath as I looked more closely and saw the two brothers sitting up high on the hill behind their den – but not high enough as to be seen from the front viewing platform – cuddled up together with a glorious blue sky behind them. I cursed my unpreparedness under my breath, hoped against hope that they would not move from that spot while I fumbled through my sling bag and changed lenses to my zoom, pressed my camera up against the window, and began to shoot.

Most of my best photos are gathered by what I like to call "brute force photography". There are many camera enthusiasts out there who are much more technically proficient than I am – many of them in my peer group, actually – but where I think my main talent lies is in patience and sensing what an animal might do next from many hours of observation. You'll read a lot more about that in later months; however, for all the times I need long hours and diligence to get the shot I really want, every now and then a chance will come along where a classic shot will just fall into my lap, with absolutely no preparation or work on my part, through nothing but dumb luck. This was one of those times. From the time I spotted the pair until my last squeeze of the shutter release I'd be very surprised if four minutes passed, including the time it took for me to get my sh—er, "kit" together to shoot the scene. And when I had taken the last photo, I looked down at the screen on the back of my camera, reviewed what I had fallen backwards into, and declared to Sarah, "Well, that's February taken care of for next year. Just need 11 more shots and a cover." It was obvious to me in that instant that I wasn't going to find a better photo for February in the next 10 months. And I never did. When it came time to choose the pictures for this year's calendar (back in September), I put the photo at the top of this page in the February slot and never touched it again. That's just the way it goes, sometimes. Some very, very lucky times.

If you bought the calendar, I thank you once again. Either way, if you enjoy these stories of the process of putting it together – with all the extra photos – please check back on the first of each month. I will do my very best to have a new post ready to go to coincide with the turning of each page!

BONUS MATERIAL FOLLOWS! 

I mentioned our "four little white bundles of joy" earlier in this post. On September 26/27, 2015, our white lioness Makali gave birth to four male cubs (two late on the 26th, two more early on the 27th). There are lots of amazing and heart-melting photos and videos of their early days on the Zoo's website, but this is far and away my favourite to date. In mid-December, Staff and Volunteers finally got a chance to see them in person; on December 19th, they made their public debut on a cold and windy Saturday. Makali has been an unbelievably patient mom to this point, especially as this is her first litter and four boys must be a handful for any parent at one time. Rumour has it that we're hoping for a March Break "unveiling" of the whole happy family (including dad Fintan and perhaps even Auntie Lemon) in the actual exhibit itself. Up to this point, the as-yet-unnamed cubs have only been viewable in the outdoor area of their barn, which had been set up with a radiating heater and special windows for the occasion. The windows/fencing combination – coupled with the lack of depth to the play area (meaning the cubs are always fairly near to the fence) – has made for some less than brilliant photo ops. but I've added a couple of shots here just for fun anyhow. Enjoy!