Butcherman, the three-legged former alpha male of the Delta Pride in Murchison Falls National Park (MFNP), and I parted ways at about the same time. I headed for the United States to seek my graduate education in the RECaP Lab at Michigan State University. Butcherman, on the other hand,… well…no one really knows what happened to Butcherman. The only thing that we understand is that he vanished after his alpha male position was taken by the brotherly tandem of Rafael and Ricki.

Since my return to MFNP I have been desperately searching for the old boy. Why have I been consumed by this preoccupation of finding Butcherman? Why have I found this to be an emotional pursuit? These are good questions that I have been pondering as my ability to locate Butcherman has waned. The answer is pretty simple: Butcherman and I came up at about the same time.

Butcherman is now somewhere in the vicinity of 9-years old (very much an adult in lion years), but when he challenged for the alpha male position in the Delta Pride all those years ago he was better defined as an impressionable young male. Pretty similar to the position that I found myself at that time. I was just a kid trying to realize my dream of becoming a wildlife biologist seeing the amazing MFNP landscape for the first time. My bosses tasked me with following the Delta Pride taking diligent notes on what they did, where they went. Essentially, my responsibility was to describe how Delta Pride made their living. And so, I got to know Butcherman pretty well. Looking back, I realize that Butcherman and I became better acquainted than he and I would have liked.
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You see, I was part of the first response team that found Butcherman, an alpha for just 7 months at that point, in the snare which claimed his lower left leg. I was part of the team that brought his excruciating agony to an end when we conducted that amputation. I was part of the team that enabled Butcherman to make a fantastic recovery where he somehow managed to rule over the Delta Pride for a further 3 years post-surgery. To put it succinctly: Butcherman would not have been… without the small contribution that I provided. But to be honest with you, Butcherman played much the same role for me. I would not be me without Butcherman.

This animal taught me what it was like to be a biologist. He was patient with me as I struggled to keep up with the movements of the Delta Pride. He allowed me to study every aspect of his life and to document every movement, however painful on three limbs, he made. And so searching for this majestic creature, this legendary animal, this three-legged beast born more out of myth than reality has been my fixation.

​Do I think we will find Butcherman? Part of me confidently says ‘yes.’ And we intend to continue the search. Sophia Jingo, RECaP research assistant, has agreed to keep up the search for Butcherman as I resume my studies in the states. But a big part of me is coming to the conclusion that Butcherman is most likely lost. How could a three-legged lion hunt? When he was alpha, Butcherman had a harem of females that would conduct the hunts and then vocalize to him so that he could find the kill and maintain his fitness. The only hope for Butcherman is if he was able to convince one of the females to abandon the comfort of the pride. That is exactly what Sophia thinks has happened. 

​Sophia thinks that Butcherman has found himself a lady and that the two of them have decided to enjoy retirement in the outskirts of the park north of an area maintained by the Oil Pride of lions. It is there that Butcherman could conceivably avoid detection from defensive lions and inquisitive biologists alike. This region lies north of Paraa and east of the borassus forest. There has not been much activity in the oil region since July last year. The oil region has areas near the Albert Nile river bank that are not occupied by any lion prides. So it is there that Sophia will center her efforts. She will head to the oil pride and then venture north scanning the myriad of animal tracks in the dirt looking for that distinctive three-legged hobble of Butcherman. 

Sophia has worked in MFNP forever and is well suited to guide rangers to the most probable search sites. But I am starting to realize that finding Butcherman might be a smokescreen for the fundamental underlying need that we have in MFNP. We must find a way to reduce the devastating and indiscriminate effects of snaring on the wildlife in this landscape. During his reign Butcherman stood as a symbol of that need. Biologists at conferences in comfortable hotels used to say things like, “Did you hear that there is an alpha male in Murchison with three legs! In what place could there be a disabled alpha male lion?” Butcherman was an anomaly, a miracle. Maybe that is also why I need to find him. Because I was others to share that disbelief and be motivated to make a difference by supporting anti-snaring initiatives. But hasn’t Butcherman, if he is still with us, deserved the right to decide for himself if he wants to be visible? Maybe he doesn’t want to be found? Maybe he would prefer to live the remainder of his life as a recluse. Who couldn’t relate to that, given what he has been through? And if that is the case, then I will cheer him on. But regardless, I will always be Butcherman’s champion.

At RECaP we are officially launching our “Snares to Wares” initiative. For the past 7 years I have been working with Lost Boys, those individuals recruited into the poaching trade at very impressionable ages, to find alternative ways to make a living. I have been working to convert these boys from Lost Boys to Crafts Boys centered in the village of Pakwatch. Prioritizing the targeted removal of snares from MFNP via the most cutting-edge science, we supply these craftsmakers with disused wire snare which they capably convert to wares for sale in the market. We are launching this initiative with brand new spirit. The UWA rangers and other senior staff as well as the local hoteliers are ready to participate in this effort to get snares our of MFNP region for good.

This trip has also awakened in me the need to have a long-term and uninterrupted lion monitoring project in the MFNP so as to quickly determine threats to lions and devise mitigation measures. How else can we determine whether our Snares to Wares initiative is being successful? The lost boys of Pakwach mentioned of need to establish a steady market for their wares. We need to get these wire sculptures of lions, giraffes, and elephants in front of people who would like to buy them. Without a market for the wares, we will have failed to complete the circle in the conversion of a deadly snare into art. In this way art may be imitating life, but life is dependent upon art. Also, the initiative would then provide alternative income to the reformed boys, giving value to the conservation of wildlife via wire snare removal, and reducing the likelihood that these wires would be used to capture wildlife.  
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I return to East Lansing to share with the rest of Spartan Nation the challenges of wildlife conservation in this iconic African national park. Spartans Will! Snaring is but one of the challenges that Spartans are best suited to confront. I am therefore confident that my next trip to Uganda (starting in May of this year) will involve the application of practical solutions that will enable me to not only tell my children bed time stories of Butcherman, but to show them what Butcherman’s sons, daughters, and grandchildren are now getting up to in Murchison Falls National Park: my own backyard.  

The 2016 chapter of Operation Twiga is coming to a close and what an honor it has been for me to learn from professionals committed to securing the future of an endangered population of giraffes in Murchison Falls National Park (MFNP), Uganda. During the past two weeks, I have worked with veterinarians, rangers, and ecologists from across the world, who have given everything that they have for giraffe conservation. They have expended every ounce of energy in chasing down, roping, monitoring, loading, and translocating giraffes to a new and hopefully better home. Operation Twiga has had its ups and downs, which is part of the emotional roller coaster that seems to accompany every field season. For instance, the story of Melman and his successful translocation was a high point; a very fruitful experience for everyone involved in Operation Twiga. Not every capture was as successful. For instance, last week we captured an adult female giraffe. While we were collecting data on her, one of the vets noticed that she was lactating. This irrefutably identified that this female had recently given birth and was caring for a dependent calf. The vets advised to free her so that she could attend to her calf. Before release, we also noticed that the giraffe was suffering from a skin disease on her neck. We applied an antiseptic spray on the lesion in the hopes that the treatment would help her heal. Then we freed her so that she could be reconnected with her doting calf. We all know just how difficult it is to capture an adult giraffe and translocate the animal to another region. Every part of the journey is one that is associated with anxiety and stress. We care for these animals. We want their population to expand. We want them to be successful. Looking around into the eyes of my colleagues I saw no disappointment at the fact that we had to release this female. Instead, I saw satisfaction. We had not realized that the female had a calf when we captured her. But we would be sure that the female and her offspring were not separated for one minute longer than that had to be. Every member of Operation Twiga has shared one unifying mission: to devote their energies to helping these precious animals. And every animal counts. With just 1,250 Rothschild’s giraffes in MFNP, the conservation of one life matters tremendously. 

So why is this population of giraffes having a difficult time expanding? There are a number of reasons, but snaring is a major contributor to the decline of giraffes and other wildlife in MFNP. Earlier in the day, we came across two animals that had been victims of snaring. The first one was a giraffe. We found only the remains of this animal, with a snare around its hind leg sealing its fate. The second animal was a male buffalo who had somehow managed to free itself from a snare around its head, as evidenced by a large scar on its neck. We were all left to wonder how the animal could have survived a snare around its neck. There are several human settlements around MFNP and poachers use snares mainly for bushmeat to capture animals such as kob, hartebeests, and oribis. However, snares are indiscriminate and lead to severe injuries in larger animals as evidenced by the case of Butcherman, the famous lion that Tutilo, my colleague at RECaP, has been tracking. In most cases, snares lead to the death of the trapped animals, but in so many of these cases, death is neither swift nor immediate. Snares are particularly problematic for elephants, because the trunk is almost invariably the part of the animal that is caught. Even if an elephant could survive a snare, to have a damaged trunk is a death sentence. The bottom of an elephant’s trunk is an extremely dexterous area (essentially the lips of the animal) where food items can be manipulated with great care and brought into the mouth. It is almost impossible to sustain oneself without an intact trunk. Not only is the trunk crucial for breathing, feeding and drinking, it also plays important roles in cleaning and cooling down the animal, and also in self-defense. Today, Uganda Wildlife Authority (UWA) received a tip that an elephant was caught in a snare and they used all of their efforts to locate the animal. Unfortunately, they did not find the elephant in time. When arriving on the scene we saw a horrific sight. A horribly-maimed and emaciated elephant takes one’s breath away. It is hard to process what you are seeing. How could a giant of the animal world be reduced to this by an indiscriminant snare? Uganda Wildlife Authority buried the elephant in an undisclosed location. It was truly a sad day for everyone involved in the search and even though not every animal can be saved, losing even one is very painful. 

​Encountering such animals cemented the importance, in my mind, of Operation Twiga. The giraffe population in the northern sector of MFNP is the largest wild-living population of Rothschild’s giraffe. The southern bank of MFNP, across the River Nile, is larger than the northern sector and in this region, where the giraffes are further away from sources of human disturbance, these animals have a great opportunity to be successful. In the area where we translocated the giraffes, the vegetation is dense with fewer predators. It is our hope that with a series of subsequent future translocations, the giraffe population in the south will steadily grow. Having giraffes in the southern bank of MFNP will also increase biodiversity in the area and boost the tourism industry. Most of the tourism activities are concentrated in the northern area of the park and more tourism ventures in the southern bank will increase revenue for UWA, benefiting both the people in the area and the giraffe population. Now, the next step is to monitor Melman and the other members of the new southern population. The monitoring will be carried out by UWA and we hope that the population will grow to ensure that the Rothschild’s giraffe will persist for generations to come.

There is a mysterious allure to nature. There is the sense that things are hidden, layered. You see a tree, you call it by its common name, “maple”. You don’t see the seed it once was, smaller than a penny, or the gust of wind that brought that seed to just the right place on the ground, a place with an ideal mixture of sun, water, soil acidity and temperature – the delicate conditions that enabled the inconsequential seed to become an 8,000 pound giant, towering over you with mighty arms spread to the sky, now a bastion for birds and a source of colorful inspiration for humans each autumn. The tree exemplifies nature’s hidden layers: we tend to view things as they appear, but a simple poke at the surface reveals a new world underneath the nature in front of our perceptions.

As an ecological researcher, I like to poke at the surface of things. I look for the rabbit holes – both real and metaphorical – that lead into the invisible infrastructure that undergirds nature. Once there, I ask questions: Why does the animal dig out a den here and not there? What do the communities of critters do in the dark of night? How do ecosystems change as winter snow gives way to spring sunshine? Investigating these questions reveals astonishing beauty, and answering them enables us to conserve our natural resources so that all creatures, humans and wildlife alike, can flourish.

To this end, I study the secret lives of carnivores. A city-dweller my whole life, I am fascinated by those carnivores that make a living among us, carving out a niche between the humans going about their daily business: raccoons and skunks and coyotes and foxes and, yes, the occasional bobcat. Despite sharing our cities with them, we know precious little about these species. The central theme of my PhD dissertation research in the RECaP Laboratory is to describe and predict the factors associated with the decision-making of these elusive urban carnivores.

But there is a problem: urban carnivores are among the most hidden of all nature’s beasts. They make their living on being shy and sly and cunning. So how can we learn about them?
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Enter technology. I am part of a wonderful team of collaborators that relies on the latest cutting-edge technologies to peer into the layered world of carnivores. We at RECaP work together with the Cleveland Metroparks in Cleveland, Ohio, and one of our go-to technologies for studying urban wildlife is the camera-trap.

The camera-trap looks rugged on the outside, but on the inside contains a constellation of delicate computer connections. It is delightfully sensitive – built specifically to detect our furtive wildlife friends. Camera traps sense changes in heat and movement from over 100 feet away. When something is detected, the camera snaps a picture in a mere tenth of a second. Even during a moonless winter night, our camera-traps document the secret lives of animals with brilliant clarity thanks to an array of infrared LEDs –  the camera gets a crisp picture and the animals are not bothered by the infrared flash. 

​This morning, our research team is heading out into the field to place three dozen camera-traps throughout the expansive Cleveland Metroparks system, which covers a massive 23,000 acres of urbanity. We gather at 7:00am in a decidedly unnatural place: a storage garage cram-packed full of field equipment. Cleveland Metroparks Wildlife Ecologist Jon Cepek provides us with instructions: “Alright, each team has an equipment set all ready to go – GPS units, datasheets, a cordless drill, bolts, an iPad, cablelocks, and, of course, cameras. Double-check everything and get geared up.” We assemble into our two-person teams, grab our equipment and load into trucks. The iPad, another crucial piece of technology, directs us to the locations throughout the Metroparks where we will place cameras in the landscape. 

We head out. The next few hours are a blur of excitement. Cameras out of the box. Settings checked and re-checked (there are lots of them: time, date, shutter speed, flash intensity, megapixels, GPS coordinates). Cameras and SD storage cards labeled. Notes taken. Gear into backpacks. In and out of the truck. Navigating to research sites. Troubleshooting unanticipated situations (we have to climb up that?). Sites found. More checking. More notes taken. Finally, at each site, once we become satisfied with our work we leave our trusty camera-trap to keep watch over nature in our absence: sentinels out in the urban wild that will give us a glimpse into what that coyote is doing, where she is going and why she might be going there. 

So what does our camera-trap have to say about that beautiful coyote with dark eyes at the top of this blog post? What was she up to? It seems she was looking for dinner. On this occasion, our camera-trap network reveals her success. Tonight she will dine on a squirrel that she carries in her mouth, abating her hunger for at least one more winter night. Perhaps she will take it back to a den, eat it alone under a starry sky. Perhaps she will gobble it down while on the move, looking for a mate in this January breeding season. We will likely never be able to peel back all the layers of nature or know the full stories of these wonderful urban creatures. But, what a view we can get! We peer into the window of their world through the lens of our camera-traps. Some questions we answer, and a multitude of others emerge. With modern science, we will stitch together the stories of wildlife using not only camera traps, but the other technological innovations that we possess in RECaP. I, for one, feel privileged to take these glimpses, and I am filled with anticipation to see the other wonders our camera-traps will reveal over the course of this fascinating research project.