4/29/2020

The Story of Gus

Photo by Chelsea Ross

Gus was a South American king vulture, hatched at the Los Angeles Zoo on May 22, 1983.

He didn’t develop normally and was diagnosed with a metabolic protein absorption disorder. His wings drooped; he couldn’t fly. 

There are different roles a bird can fill in a zoo, and Gus proved he wasn’t cut out for any of them. He was unsuitable for breeding because they thought his growth disorder might be genetically passed to his offspring. He chewed his own feathers out and was too ragged and bloody to display in an exhibit. He was aggressive to other birds and people. He refused to be trained for a part in the bird show. Soon there was nothing the zoo could do with him and he sat behind the scenes, hurling himself upon any keeper entering his enclosure to clean or feed him. The zoo had his best interests at heart, though. On October 1, 1983, the Zoo allowed a kind-hearted bird keeper named Cathy Christel to take him home with her on loan, and in 2008 the Zoo granted her permanent ownership for $1.

Cathy kept Gus secretly for about 29 years. She must have taken very good care of him because king vultures are only supposed to live 20. Cathy led a quiet life with many animals. Little is known of the years Gus spent with her.

I inherited Gus in 2013 when Cathy died of an inoperable brain tumor. I had some experience rescuing emus, and happened to work at the zoo in the Education / Graphics Division, but I had never even seen a vulture up close. Gus was very unhappy, perhaps because he was grieving Cathy, or maybe because he was still stuck in his aggressive behaviors from the zoo. He attacked me whenever I approached. But I could tell from the sadness in his eyes that he needed a friend.

Photo by Marie Calleja

I read books on training raptors and spoke to people who kept vultures. Many of their techniques seemed too harsh. I followed my intuition instead and treated Gus more as an equal in our relationship. I approached him slowly several times a day and petted him gingerly, then retreated, respecting his wild pride. Slowly the figurative wall he had erected to shield his ego began to fall. I let him out of his enclosure every day so he could explore the garden while I cleaned his cage. I hid treats to stimulate his mind. We played tug-of war with toys and I stuffed his food into different containers for him to figure out. We became closer. 

Gus’s enclosure was right outside my work-at-home office windows. He couldn’t jump or stand on a perch so I built a series of ramps and ledges for him to climb around the aviary. He sunned himself by my window as I worked, and he tapped on the window with his beak if he wanted to be scratched on his head. I discovered he liked his tongue rubbed. I had to gather up all my courage to stick my finger in his beak though; he still bit me on occasion.

He became very protective of me if any animals or people approached, and sometimes I had problems curbing his jealousy. He was extremely loyal. There were several visitors who got chased away.

Gus shifted into his role of animal ambassador as more people came to my bungalow to see him. Nearly every day, a new person would knock on my door and ask to meet the vulture. Neighborhood children brought their friends to stand in my office and look at him through the window. Once, a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses brought their entire congregation in a convoy of cars, with their spouses and children, to meet Gus. Another time a girls’ baseball team named themselves the Vultures and came for a photo shoot with Gus in my kitchen. Gus stood on a high chair while the girls posed behind him. He loved the visitors and the attention. Sometimes he even allowed people to caress him, but he was still dangerously unpredictable so I asked guests to keep some distance.

Photo by Michael Earley

Gus subsequently tried to lay eggs. One of the eggs was too large and she became eggbound. Another egg, stuck behind the large one, slid backwards into her abdominal cavity and became entangled in her intestines. Michael Clark, at the L.A. Zoo, was instrumental in diagnosing Gus’s problem. 

Gus saw several veterinarians before Dr. Attila Molnar saved her life by performing surgery to remove the eggs.

She was much more docile and demonstrative of her love to me afterwards.

The next year I developed cancer and Gus spent much of her time staying with an exotic animal rescue organization called Conservation Ambassadors / Zoo To You. She was brought to fundraisers and educational events by Gabe Kerschner to teach people about her species. Fortunately, Gus loved traveling in her dog carrier. As the only privately-owned king vulture in the United States, she became a celebrity. She traveled in first class on airplanes to New York to be a guest on The Today Show on Halloween in 2018, and to Los Angeles to make an appearance on The Late Late Show With James Corden in 2019.

After my course of treatment was completed, Gus moved back in with me. We were like two peas in a pod together. 

But Gus developed a limp in 2020, which quickly led to her inability to stand. Gus was a very good patient during a barrage of tests and treatments though, and she seemed perfectly content to sit on a cushion near a heat lamp while I fed her and administered medicine every couple hours. On April 21, 2020, I heard Gus slip off her cushion, and when I went to her she struggled into my lap and rested in eternal peace. She was 37 years old.