Jack Thornton

In 1984, Ricky, a 3-year-old male white rhinoceros, was acquired from a zoo by the Olympic Game Farm. A very sturdy large wooden corral with closely spaced posts and very thick rails was built in hopes it would contain him.

Accustomed as Ricky was to captivity, it wasn't much of a gamble; but weighing more than 4,000 pounds, if he chose to charge, would it hold?

Twenty-five years later he still resides within the comfort of his compound.

Fortunately Ricky had no medical problems, but by the mid-1990s his horn had grown to about 4 feet long, jutting forward incongruously parallel to the ground. Eventually about a foot of its tip broke off and for a while just hung there.

Although this caused Ricky no pain or noticeable discomfort, tourists began to complain about it. Lloyd Beebe asked me to help him with a solution but because of Ricky's body mass and unpredictability, chemical restraint was the only solution.

I used to watch Marlin Perkins dart rhinos and elephants on television's "Wild Kingdom" with a drug called M-99. This narcotic agent is considered so powerful that a trace amount could be fatal to a human; hence, elaborate regulations surround its acquisition.

A veterinarian from the San Antonio Zoo had knocked down about 40 rhinos with M-99 and calculated a 10-percent mortality rate from the drug but public outcry had become so loud, Lloyd elected to take the risk.

We decided to enlist two veterinarians from Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle to come over and administer the drug via a tranquilizer gun. A woman veterinarian to whom I spoke on the phone asked me to line up someone "good with a lariat." Having been dragged around wet pastures on the end of a rope by 300- to 400-pound calves, I smiled to myself as I imagined water skiing behind a Seattle ferry.

The two vets from Seattle along with several local veterinarians, a newspaper photographer and a handful of game farm employees gathered to witness the occasion, which was accomplished without complication. Ricky's horn was cut off using a chain saw, leaving a normal length. An antidote was used to reverse the M-99, and Ricky stood up somewhat shaky but alive.

As the press and other observers began to wander off, those of us remaining were given a handful of chain saw shavings from Ricky's horn with the understanding that wild rhinos were being killed to acquire the horn for its alleged medicinal and aphrodisiac properties.

I've never had the courage to experiment with my sample, but it was obvious that the entire incident certainly rendered Ricky a lot less horny.



Jack Thornton is a semiretired veterinarian. Reach him at columnists@sequim gazette.com.