https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/2019/11/tigers-in-the-united-states-outnumber-those-in-the-wild-feature/#close
WE HEARD THEM before we saw them.
Their squawks echoed from inside the neat, ranch-style home, sounding more like parrots than tiger cubs. Then James Garretson carried Hulk into the living room, where the McCabe family waited on the couch. The kids giggled as he placed the squirming cub on nine-year-old Ariel’s lap and pushed a baby bottle into its mouth. “Hold the bottle, just like that. You got it?” She nodded.
Everyone beamed, fondling Hulk’s rough, striped fur as Garretson hovered nearby. The 12-week-old, cocker spaniel-size cat clutched the bottle in his oversize paws, sucking with wild enthusiasm. When the bottle was empty, the cub wandered onto the coffee table and swatted our photo gear.
Garretson lured him back with another bottle to give Ariel’s five-year-old brother, James, a turn. Then the rambunctious cub leaped off the sofa, grabbed me from behind, gripped my legs with surprising strength, and tore five-inch scratches into my thighs. He sank his claws in and held on. Garretson peeled him off, and all made light of it with nervous laughs. Playful. Just acting like a kitten.
We met two more tiger cubs in a back room at the Ringling Animal Care Center in Oklahoma (which has no connection to the famous circus). Outside, we watched six adult tigers lounge in their pools or stalk one another, overweight but seemingly happy and living in clean enclosures.
Bhagavan “Doc” Antle (far right) poses with his staff (left to right), Kody Antle, Moksha Bybee, and China York, in a pool used in his tiger show at Myrtle Beach Safari in South Carolina. Young cubs are a big part of the business; packages for playing and having photos taken with them run from $339 to $689 a person. At about 12 weeks old, cubs are considered too big and dangerous for tourists to pet.
That was in September 2018.
I later learned that seven tigers under Garretson’s care at another facility had killed a woman in 2003. Court documents noted the cats were “extraordinarily hungry” and had reached through flimsy cattle fencing to rip Lynda Brackett’s arm off “in a feeding-like frenzy.” The 35-year-old, who worked there as a volunteer, bled to death. The U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) fined Garretson $32,560 and ordered him to never again exhibit, breed, buy, or sell animals that required U.S. federal licensing—including tigers. But by 2017 he was working at the Ringling center with new cats. The center was operating under a USDA license held by his girlfriend, Brittany Medina.
Four months after my visit, Garretson was evicted from the property, which was leased in his name. A team from Turpentine Creek Wildlife Refuge drove from Arkansas to rescue the six adult tigers. One, named Diesel, was too ill to stand. He died four days later of a treatable bacterial blood infection thought to be carried by fleas and ticks, says veterinarian Kellyn Sweeley, who treated him. Hulk and the two other cubs had disappeared.
My visit to the Ringling center with photographer Steve Winter was just one stop during a two-year investigation into why there are likely more tigers living in cages in the U.S. than remain in the wild. We wanted to find out who owned them, what their living conditions are, how lax regulation has allowed them to proliferate, and how they’re traded around the country.
Among other things, we found that most tigers in this country live in small zoos and animal attractions—known generally in the industry as “roadside” zoos—where care standards can vary widely, in some cases endangering the animals in them and the humans who visit them.
Tigers are in crisis. At the turn of the 20th century, when Rudyard Kipling penned The Jungle Book, about 100,000 of the majestic cats roamed across Asia. They were wiped out by trophy hunts in India, the 1960s fashion craze for fur in the United States and Europe, the cats’ shrinking habitat, conflicts with people, and poaching. Today perhaps 3,900 remain in the wild. Tigers hover closer to extinction than any other big cat.
After years of reporting on the illegal wildlife trade in Asia, I decided to look into tigers in America when I heard a talk by Carson Barylak, a policy specialist with the International Fund for Animal Welfare.
She said there may be 5,000 to 10,000 captive tigers in the United States. No one, including government officials, knows exactly how many there are, and there is no overarching federal law regulating big cat ownership.
Barylak showed a multicolored map illustrating a random patchwork of state laws. Some states ban private ownership. Others require a permit. Four have no statewide laws at all. In some places, it’s easier to buy a tiger than to adopt a kitten from a local animal shelter.
You can get a USDA license to exhibit or breed gerbils—and then exhibit or breed any animal you want, including big cats. Entertainment drives the breeding and trading of tigers in the U.S., specifically attractions that allow customers to pet, feed, and pose with tiger cubs. Commercial breeders provide a constant supply of babies. Within some states, such commercial activities are legal if properly licensed by the USDA, which is tasked with enforcing minimum care standards for animals under the Animal Welfare Act. But we found mistreatment of animals and a range of illicit activities, including illegal wildlife trafficking, at many facilities we visited.
Tiger cubs are a gold mine, especially white ones. Tourists hug, bottle-feed, and snap pictures with adorable babies at roadside zoos, county fairs, and safari parks. A quick photo op or five-minute cuddle runs $10 to $100. A three-hour zoo tour with cub handling can run $700 a person. Guests often are told they’re helping to save wild tigers. They leave happy and post selfies on social media.
ALL THE REST: