Episode 21: Pat Craig, the Wild Animal Sanctuary, and the Power of Compassionate Empathy

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast.

On today’s episode we’re going to hear the story of Pat Craig and the Wild Animal Sanctuary. Did you know over 30,000 acres in the state of Colorado is home to over 950 lions, tigers, bears, and other exotic animals? We’ll find out how this came to be, what the captive wildlife crisis is, and how compassionate empathy can change the world.

Check out the Wild Animal Sanctuary here: https://www.wildanimalsanctuary.org/.

Don't forget to vote for Mayor of the Carousel – voting ends May 25!

• Learn more about the Mayor Election and the perks of voting! (https://carouselofhappiness.org/mayor-of-the-carousel/) 
• Ready to cast your vote? Here's the link to the ballot. (https://carouselofhappiness.org/mayor-ballot/)

The Carousel of Happiness is a nonprofit arts & culture organization dedicated to inspiring happiness, well-being, and service to others through stories and experiences.

If you enjoy the podcast, please consider visiting the Carousel of Happiness online (https://carouselofhappiness.org/), on social media (https://www.facebook.com/carouselofhappiness), or in real life; or consider donating (https://carouselofhappiness.app.neoncrm.com/forms/general-donation) to keep the carousel and its message alive and spinning 'round and 'round.

If you have a story to share, please reach out to Allie Wagner at outreach@carouselofhappiness.org

Special thanks to songwriter, performer, and friend of the carousel, Darryl Purpose (https://darrylpurpose.com/), for sharing his song, "Next Time Around," as our theme song.

Transcript

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast. I’m your host, Allie Wagner. 

It is our final week of the mayoral campaign. Can you believe it? That’s right, in less than seven days we will know who the next Mayor of the Carousel of Happiness will be. Can you feel the suspense?

And the plot thickens this final week of the election season because up until recently, Lion was the mane man, holding a commanding lead over both Dragon and Pig. 

But, an exciting development changed everything. Larry and Jane McGrath, the pig’s adopters, wanted to give our sweet little pig a fighting chance to win and are sponsoring a donation match this week. That means, if you vote for Pig between now and May 25th your vote will be doubled. 

And, as a result, Pig is now in the lead with 1,077 votes. Can you believe it? Lion is in second place with 557 votes and Dragon is holding on tight with their talons at 364 votes. 

But there’s still time. If you are a fan of Lion or Dragon, it is not too late to show your support. Each vote is $1 and is 100% tax deductible. You can vote online or in-person anytime between now and May 25th.

Remember this is an opportunity for you to show your support for the carousel, regardless of who you vote for. Every dollar we collect during this election season goes right back into the carousel to keep us spinning.

Big shoutout to Jess Osborne of the Tail of Two Cities Animal Sanctuary who became a Campaign Partner for Pig at the $250 level this week. That means she’ll get a free 15th anniversary t-shirt and a free copy of Scott Harrison’s new coffee table book, Carousel Soul. 

If $250 feels like a bit much, you can become a Campaign Partner for any of the candidates at the $100 level and get a free 15th anniversary t-shirt. These are special editions and you get to choose what animal is featured on the t-shirt. We’ve got Moose, Pig, Cheetah, and Zebra as options or you can write in your favorite animal. If we get at least 10 others to choose the same animal, we’ll print those too. This is something you’ve all wanted for a long time, but we haven’t been able to do until now. Don’t delay, vote today.

On last week’s episode…well there was no episode. As you know, dear listener, I went on a solo camping trip and reset my batteries for summer. I rode my mountain bike, I soaked in the hot springs, I finished books that have been sitting on my nightstand for months. And while I’m delighted to be back, I must admit, after spending a week in the desert, I did not appreciate the snow on the ground when I returned. Any of you dreaming of moving to the mountains, take note. Summer takes a while to get here.

On today’s episode we’re going to hear the story of Pat Craig and the Wild Animal Sanctuary. Did you know over 30,000 acres in the state of Colorado is home to over 950 lions, tigers, bears, and other exotic animals? Yeah, I didn’t either. We’ll find out how this came to be, what the captive wildlife crisis is, and how compassionate empathy can change the world.

Let us begin with today’s story.

GONG

Imagine for a moment, a place with sprawling savannas and rolling grasslands. A place with towering rock formations and running creeks. A place where the breeze blows on your skin and blades of grass wiggle in between your toes. Imagine having space to run, room to jump, friends to play with, and regular, healthy meals. Imagine having access to medical treatment when you need it and using your voice when you feel compelled.

Sounds pretty lovely, right?

Now imagine you’re a tiger. You weigh between 200 and 350 pounds as adult. But, long ago, before you can even remember, someone bought you as a cub on the black market. You were taken from your mother, just two days after you were born. You were bought because someone thought you were cute. You were bought because someone thought they could make some money off of you. You were bought because someone wanted to prove they could.

And, in this new home, traveling families piled out of station wagons to take pictures with you. At a roadside zoo in South Dakota or a mall in Iowa, or a circus in Mexico. Perhaps you were trained to do stunts. To dazzle the human beings in front of you. Bright camera flashes in your face, in your eyes. Constantly. Loud noises all around you. Relentlessly. Day after day. Night after night. And something about this feels off to you. You sense something isn’t right, something isn’t fair, but what do you know? This life. It’s all that you’ve ever known. 

And after the show, after the families head home, you return to your home. A cage the size of 77 square feet. Smaller than the square footage of your average vehicle. You’re surrounded by metal bars. Icy concrete under your feet. You’re alone. You haven’t seen a single tiger your entire life. And maybe you’re fed. But maybe you’re not. Because, as it turns out, adult tigers eat a whole lot more than cubs and the person who bought you just didn’t think that far ahead.

Now imagine, one day, when a team of human beings in orange polo shirts show up at your cage door. They feed you some food. They soothe you with kind words. They want you to come with them. They promise, this time, it will be different. 

And you’re scared. They seem nice and all, but this life is all you’ve ever known. You want nothing more than to leave this terrible existence, but it’s familiar. You’re not sure if you can trust humans. Ever again.

But the chicken they feed you is really, really good, and they all seem really nice and kind. And you can sense the energy is different. You can sense these humans are different.

So you go with them. Walk into a transfer cage that was built specifically for you and your size. In fact, it’s actually bigger than your home. And the transfer cage is put on a truck or loaded onto a massive C-130 until one day…you arrive.

At that place. With the sprawling savannas and rolling grasslands. And sure, you’re not China or Southeast Asia where you belong, but you’re in Colorado. At the Wild Animal Refuge in Springfield. There, you’re fed. You receive medical treatment. You’re treated with loving kindness and empathy. You’re seen and loved for being the wild, majestic being you are. 

And slowly you start to heal. You stop self-mutilating. You meet other tigers for the first time. You feel different. You feel alive.

And there’s this moment. This beautiful moment. When, after passing medical checks and acclimating to the resident pack of tigers, the cage door finally opens for the last time. And you walk out into the great wide open, feeling grass under your feet, feeling the breeze blowing in your fur. Now, you have room to jump and run and be wild. 

For the very first time in your entire life.

And the refuge isn’t a roadside zoo. It’s not a circus. It’s not a cage at a gas station. It is a wild, sprawling 10,000 acres in Eastern Colorado. Just in case you don’t want to do the math, that’s 435.6 million square feet. Not 77 square feet. And while it doesn’t entirely belong to you, 16 acres expansive acres do. And, now, for the rest of your days, you can be a tiger. You can build a den or find a mate. You can play or you can snooze. And you’re not alone anymore. You’ve got four other tigers to be tiger-y with. No one has a camera in your face. No one expects you to sing or dance for your supper. And no one is going to put you back in that cage.

Finally, you are free.

And the reason you are free, the reason the refuge you now call home exists is because of one man. Pat Craig. Who, 46 years ago, saw a need and took action. And 46 years later, there are 950 lions, tigers, bears, wolves, jaguars, cheetahs, leopards, mountain lions, camels, mustangs, and so many more whose lives were saved.

What started as a personal mission – a personal calling – has developed into the largest and oldest animal sanctuary in the world. A multimillion dollar organization with a network of three locations in Colorado spanning over 30,000 acres of land. The Wild Animal Refuge in Eastern Colorado, the Wild Animal Sanctuary in Keenesburg, Colorado (just 30 minutes from Denver, by the way), and the newly acquired Wild Horse Refuge in Craig, Colorado. 

How did this happen? Why did this need to happen? That’s what we’ll talk about today.

In 1979, Colorado-native Pat Craig was in college at CU Boulder. He grew up on a farm just outside Boulder where there were cows and horses and chickens. And while he doesn’t consider himself to be an animal whisperer at all, he always had a connection with animals. He always seemed to know how they were feeling. As a young person he knew he wanted to work with animals, he just didn’t know how.

And one day, he visited a friend who was working at North Carolina zoo. And as his friend was giving him a tour, Pat noticed there were several big cats in small cages in the back. When he asked his friend about it, he was told they were what’s called “surplus animals.” Animals who were at one time in the limelight, but were now being held in the back, hidden from public view. 

When asked, Pat’s friend told him they weren’t old, they weren’t sick, but their utility at the zoo had expired. You see, human beings love baby animals. Baby animals are what sells tickets. So, when these animals were no longer cute and cuddly they were sent to small cages in the back. Not to be seen. And likely to be euthanized soon. 

When Pat returned to Colorado he couldn’t stop thinking about those big cats he saw in the back. It was something in their eyes, he thought. They weren’t scary. They weren’t ferocious. They were scared. And they needed help.

In that moment Pat asked the question of himself, “How many people think like I do & aren’t doing anything about it?” How many people working at that zoo knew how terrible the treatment was, but instead looked away. Because it was easier. Because it was convenient.

So, Pat did the opposite. He returned home to Boulder and started writing letters. He called the Denver Zoo and asked them if they could take the surplus animals.

They couldn’t. In fact, the Denver Zoo had 7 surplus tigers of their own.

So, Pat called state and federal law enforcement. He notified them of the fact that wild animals were being held in small cages hidden from the public. Couldn’t they do something? 

Their response, if Pat wanted to, he could save the cats on his own. If he got the right animal handling certifications, he himself could build the bigger cages he thought best for the animals, but, at the time, that was his only recourse. 

He was 18 years old at the time.

Pat sent out 75 letters to zoos around the country asking if they had surplus animals who needed homes. He received 300 responses. Of surplus lions, tigers, bears, chimpanzees, elephants, alligators, and so many more.

Pat was overwhelmed. There was no way he could help every single one of the animals. 

But he couldn’t stop thinking about them. What it was like to be them. In small cages. Never having felt grass before. Destined to die. Not because they were old or were sick, but because they didn’t serve the needs of humans anymore. He couldn’t shake it. 

He decided helping one animal was better than helping none. And helping two animals was better than helping one. So he built the cages on his family’s 15-acre farm outside Boulder. He got the animal handling certificates. And started, one by one, rescuing large carnivores and keeping them on his farm. 

He had no experience. He had no manual. He had no team.

In 1980, at the age of 19, Pat rescued his first animal. A baby jaguar named Freckles who was born in captivity in South Carolina and used as a roadside attraction. 

Not having any equipment or experience, Pat picked her up and brought her home in a cat carrier. When asked, he told airline officials she was a special type of housecat.

And, for the longest time, the rescue operation was just Pat. No employees. No volunteers. No coffers. Pat eventually dropped out of college to earn money to pay for caging, food, and other supplies.

The first ten years were a learning experience for Pat. And some of those lessons took the form of broken ribs or lacerations. He almost had an arm removed once. Not because the animals were aggressive, but because they were strong. Because they were wild.

And what started out as an effort to support surplus animals in zoos took a different turn when Pat started getting calls from law enforcement. They were starting to find tigers in basements and lions in garages. And they knew of Pat and his work, so they’d call him. And say, “take the animal tomorrow or we’ll shoot it.”

Pat’s first law enforcement rescue was of 13 big cats. And he was entirely on his own.

*

What Pat was starting to learn was that there was a huge captive wildlife crisis in the world. In fact, as recently as the early 2000s, there were over 20,000 exotic animals being held illegally in the United States alone. Exotic animal trafficking is the third most profitable transnational crime in the world, behind only drug trafficking and arms trafficking. 

Remember those surplus zoo animals? Well, sometimes zoos were so eager to get rid of them that they’d turn a blind eye and sell them to whomever they could regardless of the purchaser’s ability or intent to properly care for them. 

And, at some point, breeding in captivity became all the rage. Remember, humans love animal babies. And animal babies sell tickets. Plus, many zoos thought successful breeding efforts demonstrated their prowess in captive wildlife management. It was something to celebrate.

Until those animals grew up. And zoos didn’t have space for them, so they started being sold and bred on the black market. By people like Joe Exotic, the “Tiger King” from Oklahoma. In fact, over 140 lions, tigers, and bears from his roadside zoo now have their forever home at the Wild Animal Sanctuary in Colorado.

Eventually, after four or five years, Pat’s family farm was full. There was no more room for any more animals. Pat needed to decide. Stay where he was, and give those animals the best life possible, or buy some land to help others.

Right around this time, volunteer started showing up on the farm. A friend would build a cage or dig a trench. And pretty soon, people he didn’t know started volunteering their time and donating their money. 

Initially he thought it was crazy. He thought, “this is my dumb idea, I don’t want to get anyone else involved.” 

But when he saw that his work was impacting others he decided to grow. He bought a big chunk of land surrounded by wheat fields in Keenesburg, Colorado, just 30 minutes from Denver. Immediately, he noticed a difference in the animals’ behavior. They were thriving.

And what many people don’t know is that Pat is largely responsible for the idea of captive animals living in habitats rather than cages. Early on, on his family farm, he started letting animals roam in a fenced-in area one at a time. This was previously unheard of because zookeepers feared the animals would escape. But what Pat found was that the animals would naturally, on their own, in the evening, return to their cages. That was their home, after all. 

This decision eventually resulted in nationwide legislative change and is now considered best practice for captive wildlife populations.

Eventually, the 1,400 acre facility in Keenesburg became landlocked as well, which led Pat and his now thriving nonprofit organization to purchase a 10,000 acre property in Springfield, followed by an over 20,000 acre facility for solely for wild Colorado mustangs just outside Craig, Colorado.

*

Pat’s first and only priority has been the animals. When forced to make a decision, he always chooses what’s best for them. Unlike a zoo, which caters to human ticket holders, the sanctuary now and forever prioritizes the needs of its animals over humans every single time.

And, for that reason, Pat was reluctant to open the Keenesburg facility to the public. He wanted his sanctuary to be a place where previously captive animals could live out the rest of their days in peace and quiet away from the human beings who had treated them so poorly.

But he also knew how important education was. Particularly, for making people aware of the captive wildlife crisis. Remember, Pat had been doing this work for over 30 years when the Netflix “Tiger King” documentary was released. While the show was shocking for many of us, it was not new for Pat.

So, eventually he relented and opened the Keenesburg facility up to the public. But he did so in a very different way. What Pat had noticed at zoos was that the animals were really calm first thing in the morning, but as soon as the facility opened they started displaying symptoms of distress. You see, animals are territorial. And as soon as visitors would arrive, the animals felt the need to protect their territory, protect their home.

But, as Pat had learned, animals do not register anything above them as a threat. The air is not considered territory for animals in the same way as the land is. So, Pat and his team built a 1.5-mile long elevated walkway that would allow visitors to experience the animals and learn about the captive wildlife crisis, without upsetting them at all.

It’s now considered best practice in the industry, but Pat wasn’t thinking about that at the time. He only wanted to do it because it was what was best for the animals. The way he sees it, animals are living beings equal to humans. What is best for the animals is what’s best for humans; it is not mutually exclusive like some previously thought.

Now, Pat and his team are world renown in the animal rescue world. They rescued animals from the Puerto Rico National Zoo after Hurricanes Irma and Maria. They rescued lions from the Ukrainian zoo that was impacted by the war. And, yes, they rescued almost 150 animals from Tiger King Park in Oklahoma. Each of the 950 animals living in the sanctuary has their own story. Their own “before” and their own “after.”

*

There’s so much to say about Pat and the Wild Animal Sanctuary. Like Scott with the carousel, Pat is a visionary. A person who saw what is possible in the face of what is. A person who didn’t train or plan for their purpose, but embraced it when it unfolded before them. A person who decided to “do the thing” rather than talk about the thing. A person who made a choice to run toward the discomfort rather than away from it. A person who relentlessly clung to a vision and took sometimes tiny, sometimes massive steps in the direction of its fulfillment.

But for me, the story of Pat and the Wild Animal Sanctuary is one of radical empathy. When he was 18 years old, and his friends were partying on the Hill, Pat couldn’t shake the image of those surplus cats at the zoo in North Carolina. He couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to be them. How it would feel. 

And it’s that empathy – that human superpower – that led him to make a series of bold choices that changed not only his life, but the lives of over 950 animals. Not to mention the visitors, donors, volunteers, and employees who signed up to join the effort.

Researchers have defined three types of empathy – cognitive empathy, called “perspective taking” which allows us to understand someone else’s thoughts and emotions at an intellectual level; emotional empathy, called “affective empathy,” which involves sharing the feelings of another person; and compassionate empathy, known as “empathetic concern,” which goes one step further than the other two types. 

Compassionate empathy involves not only understanding and sharing someone’s feelings, but also being moved to help, if needed. This form of empathy motivates altruistic behavior and drives us to take action to relieve another being’s suffering.

And that’s what I think Pat’s story is about. Not only in his original desire to do something for those first surplus zoo animals in the first place, but also his ability to motivate and inspire others to take action on behalf of them. To donate money. To volunteer their time. To stop scrolling on their phones for a second and do something.

The truth is, we have access to so much information these days. And, a lot of it is difficult to behold. War, famine, injustice, racism, sexism – the Internet allows us access to the pain and suffering of so many, in places both near and far.

And, I’m not going to lie, this episode was really hard for me to do. I watched video after video, read article after article, about animal mistreatment and abuse. In fact, if my voice sounds a little funny today it’s because I’ve been crying. A lot. It is hard to know how much pain can be inflicted on other living beings. It is hard to know how unkind humans can be. It is hard to watch footage of emaciated polar bears or wounded mountain lions.

In many ways, I wanted to turn my empathy off. In many ways, I wanted to look away. But if Pat’s story is any guide, I know that the change we seek in this world requires us to dig in. It requires us to, not just watch the sad video on YouTube, but do something about it. 

And what I’ve learned from Pat, and from working at the carousel, is that there’s always a way for you to help. Exactly as you are. You don’t need to have more skills or more cash, there is a way for you, right now, to make a difference in a life. 

And the best outcomes come when you’re aligned with your passion. Maybe lions aren’t your thing, but reducing child poverty is. Maybe you’re passionate about bringing art to seniors or meals to the homeless. 

Whatever lights you up, go do it. Feel the injustice for a minute, but don’t allow it to take you under. Don’t wallow. Put down the phone, pause the YouTube videos, and make a decision to “do the thing.” Whatever you can do, big or small, right now is enough.

And if you want to support the Wild Animal Sanctuary, the facility in Keenesburg is open 7 days a week. Or perhaps, you can drive over to Craig and watch mustangs run wild. Maybe you tell a friend or two. Maybe you share this podcast. Perhaps, you feel inspired to send a donation. 

Running a 30,000+ acre organization isn’t cheap. The sanctuary goes through 100,000 pounds of food a week. While a large food retailer donates this food (which is still in date and undamaged), the organization has to employ 5 full-time drivers to drive to 113 retail stores all over the state of Colorado to pick up the food twice a week. Saving animals ain’t cheap.

Whatever you do, do something! When we watch sad videos on the internet without taking action we can be left with a feeling of helplessness. But, if we choose to engage in compassionate empathy and motivate ourselves to act, we can discharge those feelings, and change a life or two in the process.

In the meantime, take care. Be well. And, as we like to say at the Carousel of Happiness, “don’t delay joy.” And we’ll see you next time around.