hello tweets,

an obituary about the "father" of many of our whooping cranes
alive today.

regards,

Devorah A. N. Bennu, PhD
email:nyneve at amnh.org or nyneve at myUW.net
work page http://research.amnh.org/ornithology/personnel/bennu.htm
personal pages http://research.amnh.org/users/nyneve/

---------- Forwarded message ----------
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A40701-2003Jan24.html



Whooping Crane Progenitor Canus Dies
One-Winged Bird at Patuxent Refuge Helped Restore Threatened Species

By Anita Huslin
Washington Post Staff Write
Saturday, January 25, 2003; Page B03


Toward the end, his back was stiffened with arthritis and his
plumage dulled with age, but he carried himself with spirit and a
characteristic cantankerousness. His was a life owed to an
unprecedented treaty between two nations and dedicated to saving
an endangered species.

Over the past four decades, Canus sired more offspring in captivity
than any other bird of his kind in U.S.-Canadian history. But the
Secretariat of whooping cranes was also Mr. Mom, teaching his
progeny to eat their food pellets, catch grasshoppers and hunt
voles and mice.

In the process, he helped scientists save a species that a half
century ago teetered on the brink of extinction, with 17 left in
the world.

Last week, the one-winged forebear of many of the 400-plus whooping
cranes in existence today died in his pen at a wildlife refuge in
Laurel. He was just shy of 39, a ripe age for the regal white birds
that can grow five feet tall with an eight-foot wingspan and wings
powerful enough to fend off most predators.

He is survived by his mate, Mrs. C., to whom he was introduced
nearly 20 years ago by the keepers at the Patuxent National Wildlife
Refuge. Together they are responsible for dozens, if not hundreds,
of whooping cranes, including Lucky, the first whooping crane to be
born and fly after his captive-raised parents were released into the
wild.

"He was more than just a bird," said B.H. Powell, a spokesman for
the U.S. Geological Survey, whose captive breeding program helped
raise Canus in concert with a host of other groups, including the
International Crane Foundation and the Canadian government.

"He was like a person," Powell said. "He had a personality."

Canus's personality was based on his protective instinct, which
prompted him -- like many whooping cranes -- to challenge anyone who
came into his pen by puffing his feathers and strutting aggressively
toward the intruder. Canus quickly taught his keepers to either bring
him a treat when they came calling -- a tasty smelt, for example --
or face his wrath.

But he was gentle with his mate -- Mrs. C actually came after his
first partner died -- and a very good parent. "He and Mrs. C would
raise a lot of chicks even when they didn't have any of their own,"
said Kathleen O'Malley, animal care foreman for the research center.

The parenting instinct is strong in whooping cranes, in part because
they sometimes don't begin to mate until they are 15 years old and
have only one offspring a year. They nest on the frozen plains of
northern Canada and produce on average two eggs -- only one of which
usually survives.

They fly with their young every year to the Gulf of Mexico, where
they feast on crabs, marine worms, fish and other food.

Canus was found on the Canadian tundra in 1964, where scientists on
an aerial survey spotted him hopping around with a broken wing.
Realizing that the bird would never make the flight south, the
scientists quickly conferred with Canadian colleagues, and a deal
was struck.

They landed on the plain, gave chase to the five-foot-tall bird,
caught him and brought him to the United States, where they named
him Canus -- a tribute to the cooperation of the two nations. The
year-old bird was one of only 42 whooping cranes in existence.

His wing had to be amputated, and when researchers tried breeding
him, they realized that his handicap was an impediment to the
process. So they started experimenting and, with assistance from
the University of Maryland's agricultural research center in
Beltsville, began the world's first whooping crane artificial
insemination program.

It worked beautifully, and Canus, who was the oldest male bird they
had, proved to be a consistent winner. Breeding pairs began
producing six or eight eggs -- far more than any parents in the wild.

A few years ago, as his seed became less potent, Canus retired from
the stud business. But he and Mrs. C continued to help raise their
grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Last week, in the midst of the cold snap, Canus's handlers found
him lying on his side in the pen he and Mrs. C shared.

A heater had been placed in a small shelter in the pen a few years
ago to help his arthritic back. He was rushed to the center's
veterinary hospital, and staff began pumping fluids and steroids
into his system.

"He picked up his head, looked around and at one point tried to
stand up, but he wasn't strong enough so we encouraged him to
stay . . . in a reclining position," O'Malley said.

For two hours, the staff continued giving him fluids while they
consulted by phone with his veterinarian, who was in Sacramento at
a whooping crane convention. Last Saturday, at 10 a.m., Canus gave
up the fight.

Outside, Mrs. C looks skyward from time to time and calls in the
way that whooping cranes do to locate their mates.