"I guess I was like a lot of kids -- and adults," says Duncan Bourne, an animal care supervisor. "I knew I enjoyed domestic animals and always had pets, including gerbils and tortoises. I knew I wanted to get involved with animals all my life."
Talk to any zookeeper and this is the common thread linking them: a deep and abiding love of animals, the small and large, the domestic and the exotic.
Born in England, Bourne lived in Australia for a few years before coming to North America in 1972. His zoo experience outside of North America included a stint at a wild animal park in Bristol, England, dealing with small European and British animals (such as spiny hedgehogs), and then a job at the Jersey Zoo.
Don Adams is a zookeeper, manager of operations and curator of a zoological center. Adams is a one-man dynamo, working all over the park in just about every capacity. In fact, depending on what time of day it is, he might be the cashier and the janitor.
When he was younger, Adams loved animals and wanted to be a bird expert, studying aviculture. His life took a dramatic turn when, surprisingly, he became a policeman. But even when he was a cop, he says, he "always got the animal-related jobs."
In the early '70s, Adams answered an ad in the newspaper looking to fill a position at the SPCA. In 1971, he became a local manager for SPCA operations. Having retired from the police force, Adams must have gained a reputation in the "animal world," because in 1980 he was asked to design an aviary.
Shortly after that project, the zoo in Tacoma, Washington, asked Adams to design a new area in the park.
After retiring for two years of rest and relaxation, Adams was coaxed out of retirement by the owners of a game farm, now the zoological center where he works.
This tourist attraction had been purchased in its entirety by new immigrants -- who believed they were buying a company that manufactured games -- and they needed Adams's expertise to revamp the park.
"It was a total disaster," he says. "The owners had no idea when they bought it what they were getting into. But the park is where it is today because of a real commitment by the owners and a lot of hard work. We have gone from earning $90,000 two years ago to earning $200,000 last year.
"The zoo business is probably the worst job I have ever had for conditions," says Adams. "You're cleaning up manure droppings all day long, seven days a week. You have people who are against you, who don't like the whole idea of what you're doing, and they make their intentions known. And it's the poorest paid job in the country. But you do it because you want to do it, not because you have to do it."
Louise Hill is a general curator for a zoological park in Virginia. She describes a zookeeper's day in simple terms.
"The day starts by checking on the animals, making sure they're all alive and well. Then there's feeding and cleaning. That takes up the morning. In the afternoon, you might have meetings to go to or special projects to work on. Then it's time for the afternoon feedings, and by then it's time for closing up."
Even with this bare-bones description, there is plenty of room for variation. "No two days are the same," says Hill.
While she agrees that no one is going to get rich working as a keeper, Hill knows that the people working in zoos aren't there for the money. The highs and lows of the job offer their own kinds of rewards.
"The downside of the job is having to work in rain, snow or in heat," she says. "It's a job you have 365 days a year, 24 hours a day. You have to take care of your animals.
"But there are a lot of rewards. There are animals being born, there are new species coming into the zoo. Just making sure and knowing that all your animals are happy and healthy is great."