I was an animal trainer at the San Diego Zoo. For eight years I worked at Wegeforth Bowl, an open-air theater that features shows highlighting animal behavior and natural history. It was my pleasure and privilege to work with a wide variety of animal species; I cared for them, fed them, cleaned up after them, trained them and presented them to the public for educational purposes. It was literally the career experience dreams are made of.

I wanted to train animals from the time I was a little girl. I would watch nature programs and visit zoos, drinking in everything I could. I used to stage little shows at home with my pets; dogs, cats, birds, snakes, you name it. Then, I got to live my dream, train exotic animals professionally in a zoo and do my own part to help educate the general public about the beauty and wonder of the animal world. It was a slice of heaven.

Let me introduce you now to one of the animals I worked with and tell you a little bit about how marine mammals are trained.

Corky was a harbor seal who lived at Wegeforth Bowl (named for Dr. Harry Wegeforth, the Zoo's founder) at the San Diego Zoo. He was one of the first really large exotic animals I worked with, mostly because he was an older animal when I was hired. This means that he was well-acclimated to working with people. He was a reliable and consistent animal ambassador for the Zoo, as well as a reliable animal to train new trainers on.

Corky's early life, how he came to live at the Zoo and some of his adventures as a young seal are beautifully told in the children's book The True Story of Corky The Blind Seal by Georgeanne Irvine. Corky was an abandoned pup, brought to the San Diego Zoo by Department of Fish and Game officers after being found on a San Diego beach. He was raised and trained at Wegeforth Bowl, and performed in shows. He travelled far and wide, making appearances on tv shows. Corky was not born blind, but developed cataracts over the years. Surgery was not an option, so his trainers retrained his cues and signals from visual to voice and touch. Corky transitioned smoothly like the pro he was and was soon back in shows educating people while entertaining them. He was a well-known star of the San Diego Zoo.

Corky was blind by the time I met him, and well-accustomed to his blindness. I remember the first day I worked him, my first day working a marine mammal. I was nearly dancing with happiness. I had fulfilled a goal I'd had for a long time; I was an animal trainer! I had been working for a few months already, learning the daily routine at Wegeforth, or Weg Bowl as we called it, but up until this point I had only watched training sessions and shows. It was the start of a long and satisfying career, and I was loving every second of it, but I was anxious and ready to get some animal time, hands-on training. In those days I would bounce out of bed, eager to get to work. How often does anybody get to say that?

The first time I worked with Corky he cooperated beautifully. Sooner or later though, when a seasoned trained animal is handled by a novice animal trainer, the animal figures out that this person doesn't know all the rules. And then the testing starts. This is in fact an important step to becoming a competent animal trainer and everyone goes through it. In this and in all cases, the animal is learning to trust you.

Corky had to learn that not only did I know his behavioral cues, he had to learn that I was going to take care of him. Animal ambassadors in zoos are hard-working and are taken into situations that the average wild animal would not tolerate. This is a theme you will hear more from me about, but briefly, the animals are gradually desensitized to accept being in novel situations such as large, noisy crowds and in close proximity to the public. You can easily imagine that taking any large, wild animal such as a seal, sea lion, a wolf a tiger or even something smaller, like a parrot out to where the general public is so close that they can literally touch the animal involves a certain amount of risk. It was all the trainers responsibility to teach the animals to accept being out and about reliably and safely in very public areas. A large degree of their reliability in these situations depends on their close, trusting relationship with the trainer. My early sessions with Corky were focused on building this relationship and showing Corky that I would keep him safe in all situations. I can't emphasize this enough: safety for all was paramount, animal, trainer and public.

How is this relationship built? Time, patience and consistency. With Corky in particular, it started very simply. My first sessions consisted of me walking into his pen, calling his name to get his attention, then bridging and feeding him for his attention. A bridge is a signal that tells the animal he's done a behavior correctly, it's followed quickly by reinforcement (FOOD!). We used clickers, but it can be anything: a whistle, a word (okay is often used in dog training), a touch, so long as it's use is consistent. The animal quickly associates the bridge signal with food and by association, the desired behavior. With Corky (and all the animals I worked with) I had to build up a history of positive encounters before I could hope to present him in a show. And it started with just standing at the edge of his pool, and saying "Corky!" in a loud, distinct voice.

Corky's head swiveled instantly toward me and my supervisor, observing and coaching me quietly said "Bridge." Meaning I was to click the clicker. I was already too late, but I clicked anyway and gave Corky a fish. With a sighted animal you can throw a fish and they will catch and swallow it; with Corky I had to wipe the fish up from the bottom of his chin to his nose, across his mouth and whiskers. This let him know that a fish was there, ready for him and he eagerly opened up. I dropped the fish in and it was gone in a single gulp. Seals and sea lions have teeth, but they are for grabbing and tearing off chunks of fish. If it's small enough it goes down whole.

Over the course of the ensuing weeks I progressed to walking back and forth along the edge of Corky's pool, bridging and reinforcing him when he followed me. This led to calling him out of the water and putting him back in, then to calling him to follow me across the deck. All of these sessions, and I had yet to take him out of his pen. I was teaching Corky that although I was new person, I was going to interact with him just like all his familiar trainers. He was learning that although I smelled different, and my voice was new he could trust that I knew what I was doing and trust me to keep him safe. I had to learn how to be consistent with my cues and vocal inflections to match his established trainers. I can well remember practicing calling Corky's name, saying his vocal cues to get it just right.

It didn't always go smoothly. If I was nervous or stressed it would come out in my voice and Corky wouldn't work for me. Why would he want to come out of his nice, safe pool to work for someone who sounded tightly wrapped? Who likes working with stressed people? Why was I stressed? In the early stages of learning something new who doesn't have some level of anxiety? I wanted to get it right, I wanted to do well, this was my dream career, oh my god I have to do it just perfect. Yeah, we all know those feelings. I had no worries about my safety, it was all the internal pressure I put on myself to get it right. So I practiced, I watched the more experienced trainers, I asked questions, paid attention to their feedback, observed the animals behavior during sessions and while they were relaxing in their pools and ... learned. And Corky learned that I did indeed know the rules of working Corky, I could be trusted and he and I developed a working relationship that spanned years.

To some all these beginning steps might seem unnecessary. I was often asked by visitors if "just anybody" could step up and give signals to an animal and have it respond. In short, no, but there are special circumstances where that exact situation does happen. But, to get to the point where I could call Corky out of his pen, have him follow me from there all the way out to stage and then do a 10 minute show segment we had to start with the basics: pay attention to me, follow me, get in and out of the water when I ask. Otherwise, we were going nowhere.

Remember I said things didn't always go smoothly, and Corky wouldn't always work for me? Do you know what happens when a two-hundred pound harbor seal decides to quit working for you, or not even start a session? He swims away. Just that, but then if you're out on stage, in the middle of a show, how do you get him back? You wait. I have encountered from time to time people who have the misconception that the animals are somehow forced to perform. They never saw the shows where Corky or a sea lion decided they were done doing their part in a particular show, swam off and that was the end of the show. I cannot speak to the training methods of every zoo, aquarium or circus, I have only my own personal experiences to draw from, but I can speak with authority in respect to this Zoo and these animals. There was never any forcing involved. When Corky swam away, he swam until he was good and ready to come back and pay attention. It served no purpose to stand at the edge of the pool endlessly calling his name if he was 4 feet underwater cruising upside down. He was perfectly able to hear me, but he would have absolutely no intention of popping to the surface to pay attention again. He would be blowing me off completely. I had about as much chance of 'forcing' him out of the water as the proverbial snowball in nefarious realms.

To get Corky back though, that was the challenge; one I and every other trainer had to overcome. Repeatedly. The reasons why Corky (or any of the sea lions) would quit working for a trainer are many. In my case, in the early days, it was lack of confidence in me. For what ever reason at individual times he would decide, Nope, not feeling like it today and off he'd go. As a fledgling animal trainer, it was my job to figure out why and to get Corky's confidence back.

This is an important step in progressing as a professional exotic animal trainer. Because it is a given that at some point, for whatever reason, an animal is going to quit on you, especially early in your career. Professional exotic animal trainers learn their animals behavior, they learn their animals precursors to quitting, how to redirect the animal's attention to prevent it from quitting and how to get their animal working again when they do quit. Being able to do all of the above serves to build the animal's trust in you, resulting in a solid working relationship and successful training sessions and shows. As an animal trainer progresses in proficiency, the incidences of animals quitting on you decreases and the number of successful sessions increases. This is how you, the public, are able to enjoy live animal shows in zoos and aquariums; the trainers work continuously to build and maintain a strong trusting relationship with every animal. This trust, this bond that is crafted so carefully is what enables us to make it look effortless on stage.

I have to credit much of my success as a professional exotic animal trainer to my fellow trainers. They were a bottomless resource of information for a newbie, always willing to answer my questions, coach me through sessions and help me learn to read and work with all the animals under our care. Their helpful critiques and feedback from sessions I worked with the various animals helped me to develop my own skills and expertise.  I am still proud to say I was a member of that team.

And being a team player is the only way to have a successful animal training career. No one, let me repeat, no one, knows everything there is to know about animals or animal training. If someone says they do, or hints they do, they're lying. There are lots of experts, who know more than you and me combined. But being able to see things from a fresh perspective, to be able to listen to, take in and process constructive feedback is essential no matter what your level of experience.

The best teams to work on are those where there is a high level of open communication and respect. It is essential to be able to set aside emotion, think objectively and listen to other's observations of your sessions.  It's great to get the praise and pats on the back, but it's is crucial to be able to take constructive criticism.  Mistakes will be made, this is understood, this is how we learn.  But some of my best "A HA!" moments came from making mistakes and having one of my fellow trainers constructively point out to me something I'd missed.  A behavioral cue I hadn't noticed, a bridge too late, or too early.  I used the information given in previous sessions to improve my performance next time I found myself in a similar situation.

Corky was a harbor seal, a member of thriving marine mammal species. They are not listed as an endangered species and in fact are one of the more common seal species. Harbor seals are pinnipeds; the term comes from the Latin words meaning 'winged foot.' Pinnipeds are marine mammals adapted for partial life on land; the group includes seals, sea lions and walruses.

The word seal and sea lion are frequently used interchangeably by the general public but they are in fact quite different animals with many diverse species belonging to each type. Seal species in general are characterized by a fusiform body. They can be easily differentiated from sea lions in that seals lack external ear pinnae (or, ear flaps) that the sea lion has. Look at a seal's head and you will only see a small hole that is the ear opening. The seal can close this hole when he dives under water. Seal's pelvic bones are fused and the seal cannot rotate his flippers underneath him to walk or run as a sea lion can. While the seal is a graceful and powerful swimmer, on land he is slow, crawling and inching his way along the ground.

Harbor seals are found in temperate waters north to arctic zones in both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. They range in size from 1.2 to 2.0 meters in length and weigh anywhere from 50 to 170 kilograms. There is no significant difference is size, shape or coloration between males and females.

Their coat is unique to each seal and the patternings as individual as your own fingerprint. Coloration is typically medium to dark grey with light beige or white rings or spots or light grey and silver with dark rings and spots.

More information can be found on harbor seals and marine life at the following:

Puget Sound Shorelines (Dept. of Ecology)

Harbor Seal Fact Sheet

Harbor Seals

Wikipedia-Harbor Seals

Corky and I built a strong working relationship, and he was a large part of my life at Wegeforth Bowl. He was the first marine mammal I worked with and he helped shape my career and life as much as I helped shape his. Together we helped educate people about seals and their natural history. Corky brought to them, in his own unforgettable way, a little slice of the ocean world, a world rarely seen. He helped people understand why conservation and preservation of animals and the environment is vital not only their survival, but our own.

You're still wondering though, how did I get Corky back when he would quit on me?  Briefly, I would wait until he showed me he was ready to pay attention by looking around for me.  Of course 'looking' isn't accurate, he would stop swimming under water, poke his head above the surface and swing his head back and forth, listening and smelling for a trainer.  I would then step up to the edge of the pool, call his name and go from there.

If you're interested in more details about marine mammal training, I'll be publishing a Hub on just that topic shortly.