Good morning! Space is limited! Lots to cover! Let’s gooooooo.
Good news! As you know, Kodiak the Steller’s sea eagle escaped his Aviary confines for a taste of the sweet untethered freedom only afforded to winged creatures and white male billionaires with private launchpads. Born into captivity and a resident of the Aviary for a decade and a half, Kodiak toyed with residents and Aviary staff for days — staying close, but not so close to be nabbed. Kody spent his time on the North Shore, then ventured further to North Park and was eventually caught at a residence in Pine by Aviary staff using what the Aviary called “professional falconry techniques and equipment.”
they were able to locate the bird and bring Kody back home safely. Using professional falconry techniques and equipment, the National Aviary’s team was able to safely retrieve Kody and bring him back home to the Aviary.What are professional falconry techniques? Special calls that bring the predator birds swooping down to rest on the gloved arm of a trained specialist? Sending a barbecue-sauced rabbit out as bait? Let’s go to the tape.
WATCH: Viewer video shows National Aviary officials capturing Kodiak the Steller's Sea Eagle at a residence in Pine Township Sunday. on.wtae.com/3D3q5oE (Video Credit: Heather Galleher)Huh. I guess every time I’ve tossed a plastic cup over a house spider, I was actually performing professional falconry techniques. The next time I hear my daughter yell out from somewhere in the house, “Mom! Centipede!” I’m just going to keep watching Netflix and shout, “Have you tried some professional falconry techniques?”
Joking aside, it’s very good that Kody is home. He’s not adapted to the wild and clearly wasn’t prepared for or fully wanting his complete freedom because he stayed mostly low, visible, and close. Don’t believe me? Go out and try to find and then catch an adult eagle that doesn’t want to be caught. I will pay you 7 kabillion pesos if you succeed. May the odds be ever in your favor.
Kody’s escape led me down a history wormhole when I wondered to myself what other animals had escaped Pittsburgh zoos in the past and here’s what I discovered — I will never again feel fully safe from random wild monkeys in Pittsburgh as long as I live. Here are some of the wildest stories I found:
June, 1902 — three gray wolves escape the Highland Park Zoo (now Pittsburgh Zoo and PPG Aquarium). Aspinwall housewife Mrs. Jeffries uses professional falconry techniques (throws a boulder at one of the wolves’ heads) and resident Frank Love shoots it dead. It’s five feet long and is tossed unceremoniously into the Allegheny.
July, 1911 — FOURTEEN monkeys, nicknamed The Poison Squad, escape Riverview Zoo. FOUR. TEEN. Picture ten monkeys. Add four more monkeys. That’s how many monkeys took off. That’s 13 too many loose monkeys. These monkeys were donated to the zoo after being used at AGH for medical experiments. They spent their freedom in a “night of revelry over house tops, ringing church bells and swinging through the trees” before being captured.
April, 1918 — a black bear hand-raised by Pittsburgh Mayor Babcock — that’s a phrase I just wrote. — escaped a zoo truck, went on a mini walkabout, climbed a tree, and got his fat ass shot to death. When authorities realized it was the same bear Babcock raised they OFFERED HIM THE CARCASS TO USE FOR STEAKS. “Sorry we had to kill your animal friend. Would you like to dine on his flesh with a nice chianti?”
August, 1938 — a GRIZZLY BEAR escapes the zoo by breaking three bars on his cage, terrorizes the East End for hours, and angrily charges at an official who unloads a sub-machine gun, killing him after 30 shots.
July, 1945 — A 3-foot rhesus monkey named Tarzan escapes the zoo and entertains Morningside residents for three days before being captured and returned. Tarzan? Is amazing:
Look at that old dude hunting Tarzan down using professional falconry techniques and equipment. Textbook.
June, 1952 — you thought 14 was a lot of monkeys? Now picture 30 monkeys. Now add four more. 34. That’s how many monkeys escaped their enclosure at the zoo after some boys lowered a hose into it. A bunch of the fugitives ended up in Lawrenceville where P-G reporter David Martin befriended them with popcorn:
January, 1956 — a huge caracara bird escapes the zoo and heads for Oakland where it spends weeks brutally murdering pigeons at Soldiers and Sailors. Can we put a statue of this hero bird where Columbus used to be?
July, 1960 — a storm knocks a tree into the zoo’s monkey enclosure, freeing NINE chimpanzees. Five of them managed to escape the zoo and four of those were shot dead by police. Some got as far as East Liberty!
July, 1972 — a monkey chews through his belt at the Children’s Zoo and goes to visit the zoo’s South America exhibit where he leaps for a tree branch and IS SNATCHED OUT OF THE AIR BY A LEAPING CAIMAN ALLIGATOR.
July, 1986 — remember the nine chimps that escaped back in 1960 after a storm knocked a tree into their enclosure? That exact thing happened again, but this time five macaques cross the tree-bridged moat to freedom. One returned. Two were lured into cages. One showed up a month later, just sliding back into his exhibit like, “What? I didn’t do anything. I been here.” And the last macaque? Presumed dead.
That’s just a portion of the zoo-escape stories. Other escapees included a rattlesnake, a four-foot (!) macaw, a macaque in 1958 that met his death by bullet, two wolverines a week apart in 1943, two chimpanzees shot to death in 1978, a red fox, a wild cat and a bear who made a run for it together in 1905, famed macaque Alfie in 1988 who managed to elude recapture for six months before being found in OHIO, and three macaques in 1987.
Pittsburgh is basically Jumanji, you guys. Watch your six. And this goes without saying, but The Poison Squad is my new band name.
Speaking of killing things — by now you’ve heard about the gorgeous spotted lanternfly, the Asia-native crop-ruining insect that has been spotted locally.
Pretty, right? Like if a ladybug was an Avenger. But government agencies and the news media are like, “Do you see this beautiful bug? Isn’t it gorgeous? If you spot one in the wild KILL IT. KILL IT SO HARD. STOMP IT TO DUST THEN GATHER UP THE DUST AND TAKE IT INTO YOUR HOUSE AND LIGHT THE DUST ON FIRE THEN SCOOP UP THE ASHES AND FLUSH THEM DOWN THE TOILET SIX TIMES THEN BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN JUST TO BE SAFE." I’m only exaggerating a little. Look at this:
“We need to unite in our hatred,” the article says. Squash it. Even better yet, PULVERIZE it. Drop it in your Magic Bullet with some ACV and end that beautiful monster’s ruinous existence. Say no more. I’m on it.
Uh, yinz Burghers?
Basically 1 out of every 4 bridges we drive on here might kill us. And that map is from 2015. It’s probably WORSE now. When is infrastructure week again?
“Time now for sports. Here in the studio, Virginia Montanez.”
Thanks, Bob. You’re looking good tonight.
Let’s talk about the Steel- wait, no, come back. The Steelers sucked last week and then instead of killing and pulverizing their suckage like it was a spotted lanternfly, they embraced their suckage and unleashed additional suckage onto the Green Bay Packers, angering Steelers fans for doing the exact thing Steelers fans predicted the Steelers would do — suck. Now we are engaged in a great debate as to whether Ben should have ever been extended, if he should be benched, if Tomlin should be fired, if Tomlin is in literal love with Aaron Rodgers, and why Ben runs like a geriatric moose.
Instead, let’s forget all that and focus on another Steelers team (last week I let you know about the Pohang Steelers of South Korea), this one a professional soccer club out of Chile — the Club Deportivo Huachipato of Talcahuano:
They also have a cool shirt you can buy:
We can just root for these Steelers instead, right? Let’s hope they don’t suck too.
Damn it.
(h/t William G.)
The Pirates completed their season with 101 losses and 34 games out of first place. 34! Picture thirty places out of first place. Now add four more. Even the 15th place Hauchipatos are like, “Wow. El sucko.”
El sucko, indeed.
And that’s it for sports. Back to you, Bob.
“Thanks, Virginia. When we return: Is your toaster plotting to kill you in the night? We’ll be right back.”
That’s about enough out of me. Have a good week. Pulverize the spotted lanternflies. Watch out for escaped monkey hordes. And never, EVER, turn your back on your toaster.
That silver bitch will end you.
