Refuge for the Wild

Riza Falk

Twenty-three-year-old Honey used to hang out at an El Paso, Texas, gas station with her passle of kids and her boyfriend, Irwin.

She lived in a small concrete shelter and, in order to keep her manager happy, sometimes had to send the kids off with the

strangers who would stop for gas. Despite weighing hundreds of pounds and having razor-sharp teeth, Honey was a captive

and had no choice.

Honey, Irwin and their kids are just a few of the 15,000 tigers being kept privately outside of zoo systems in the United States

today. They are bred to be sold as pets, bred for the movie industry and used as money-making attractions. Most of these end

up malnourished, mistreated and then abandoned when the fact that they are, by nature, wild animals becomes impossible to ignore.

The cute, cuddly cubs grow into strong, willful cats that are not trainable.

Luckily for the tigers, as well as the bears, African lions, mountain lions, leopards, jaguars and bobcats that are in similar situations,

places exist like the Wild Animal Sanctuary outside of Keenesburg. One of a handful of such places throughout the country, the

sanctuary takes in these animals, rebuilds their confidence and health, and lets them live out their lives as naturally as possible.

Honey and Irwin came to the sanctuary in 2003, and Honey is now the oldest tiger living there.

Pat Craig was inspired to start the sanctuary for unwanted, captive-raised wildlife in 1980, after learning about the surplus animals

at zoos that are often euthanized. Today, the 160-acre facility houses 150 animals: 70 tigers, 30 bears, 14 mountain lions, nine lions,

nine leopards, four wolves, five bobcats, two servals and seven coati mundi. A staff of six, and a volunteer corps of 45 care for the

animals. A 501(c)3 non-profit, the sanctuary receives no government funding and its annual budget of $1.2 million come mostly

from small, individual donations.

While that budget may sound very large, feeding 113 large carnivores is not cheap. Nearly $600,000 a year is spent on their diet.

"We don't have an advertising budget, we have a meat budget," says development director Toni Scalera, with a laugh.

(Greeley Tribune, November 28, 2007)