It just isn't natural

by David Grand
October 23, 2003

Now, it's all right to "put a tiger in your tank," as that gas company's clever slogan urges you to do for added mileage. Or for fans of the Cincinnati Bengals (who chewed up the ugly Ravens last Sunday) to paint their faces to resemble a tiger, and for its players to wear helmets adorned with tiger stripes as a symbol of their ferocity. But to put a live one in your home, an apartment, a cage in the backyard or in an animal act, is as unnatural and fraught with danger as tourists would be traveling on foot, unarmed, in Africa's wildlife preserves.

And to think they can be domesticated like dogs and cats were thousands of years ago, and kept as pets, is as delusional as challenging a school of piranhas to a game of water polo. Moreover, while they may appear to be as tame and gentle as a pussycat most of the time (especially when their tummies are full), their mood can change as abruptly as a summer rainstorm, lashing out with extended claws and bared teeth at whoever is within reach.

Two recent instances of their unpredictability were: when a 425-lb. tiger in a fifth-floor apartment in Harlem bit his owner, as he was trying to stop him from devouring a small house cat; and in a highly publicized case, when a Las Vegas superstar Roy Horn was bitten so badly by a 600-lb. white tiger during a performance that he still remains at death's door. His last words before being hauled-off the stage in a stretcher were "don't harm the tiger." I'm not sure I could be that magnanimous, if any critter went for my jugular.

There are two sides on the question as to what prompted that tiger, who'd performed on stage hundreds of times before without incident, to maul his trainer within an inch of his life. His partner Siegfried Fischbacher contends that he didn't really mean to attack Horn, but thought he was in trouble when he slipped on the stage, and "used a little excessive force in helping out a buddy." (Supposedly, a woman in the front row with a bright red, beehive hairdo, resembling a baboon's rump, may have startled him, thinking it looked like an easy meal.)

Not so, however, say animal-behavior experts, who believe that it wasn't an accidental mauling, that it was a typical killing bite; and that while Siegfried claiming Roy was only bitten by accident "makes for a beautiful story, it just doesn't wash."

It should be noted, that there's as many as 10,000 tigers in private hands in the U.S. (twice the number left in the wild), not including countless lions and panthers; that no federal law stops anyone from having one as a pet; that only 20 states forbid big-cat ownership (although many cities do have local bans); and that even though a pending bill in Congress would prohibit interstate and foreign commerce in big cats, except for zoos, circuses and wildlife sanctuaries, it would not preclude private ownership.

Personally, I'd ban individuals owning them altogether, more for the animal's sake than for their owners or others, if they escape from their cages. Yes, I'm aware from TV shows I've seen how much many owners love them dearly (while some abuse them terribly). But even the strongest love for a wild animal has its limits.

And those who enjoy seeing them up close should be satisfied with visiting a zoo or shelter, albeit they often become, after years of confinement, as stressed-out and claustrophobic as a prisoner serving a life term, instead of being able to run freely in a huge range, as millions of years of evolution has conditioned them to do.

Looking back in time, I put much of the blame for starting the growing trend among people wanting to possess a wild animal on Frank "Bring 'em back Alive" Buck. For despite his being depicted in the newsreels in the 1930s as a great safari hunter, he never captured one animal himself, purchasing them in Africa, Asia, Australia and South America to sell to zoos and circuses. And to think that phony was my hero when I was a kid. But so was Tarzan, who killed scores of tigers and lions with a knife or his bare hands, without ever getting bitten or clawed. No doubt they were trained not to, or didn't like how he smelled.