By Michael E. Miller
By Ryan Yousefi
By Kyle Munzenrieder
By Sabrina Rodriguez
By Michael E. Miller
By Carlos Suarez De Jesus
By Luther Campbell
By Kyle Munzenrieder
Fortunately for this family, Parrot Jungle breeds practically every kind of parrot, not just for use in the park's shows but also for sale: cockatoos, Amazons (those green pirate parrots), macaws, and the Rolls Royce of parrots, the hyacinth, among many others. Unfortunately for the family and the bird they may purchase, the infatuation stands a good chance of ending badly, especially if the former isn't fully prepared for what lies ahead. After years in a cage (most parrots live up to 65 years), the slightest neglect transforms many parrots from cute and clever companions into shrieking, self-mutilating horror stories. Sadly that unpleasant scenario is common, but clueless people keep buying parrots anyway. And Parrot Jungle, of all places, keeps selling them. Today more than a hundred small birds and close to 40 large exotic parrots are merchandized in a corner of the park's gift shop, a fact that has drawn sharp criticism.
"It would totally go against our ethics to sell wild animals to the public," says Ron Magill, spokesman for Miami-Dade's Metrozoo. "You can take the animal out of the wild, but you can't take the wild out of the animal -- and that goes for exotic birds as well. Parrots are wild and do not make good pets. That's the first thing we say at our bird shows: Parrots don't make good pets. And in the end, it's the animals that suffer.
"The folks at Parrot Jungle are good friends of ours," Magill continues. "We have a wonderful relationship, which makes it difficult for me to say I disagree with them on this. I have mixed emotions but I have to be honest: We have a deep philosophical difference regarding the selling of exotic animals to private people. We need to make it clear that Metrozoo doesn't support selling exotic birds in a gift shop."
Metrozoo itself sells and lends out a limited number of animals, but only to licensed organizations for the purpose of captive breeding. That kind of discretion goes for every member of the prestigious American Zoo and Aquarium Association, which sets national standards for wildlife parks. Even corporate theme parks like Busch Gardens and SeaWorld (both accredited by the AZA) don't sell animals to the general public.
In 1999 the AZA stripped Parrot Jungle of its accreditation for a period of five years -- not for selling parrots (the park wasn't doing so at the time), but as a result of an exhibit at which people fed uncaged birds. AZA inspectors expressed serious concern over the lack of a barrier between birds and people, fearing that the parrots were subject to harassment and the spread of diseases. An AZA spokeswoman reports that if Parrot Jungle reapplies for accreditation, its policy of selling birds to the public -- resumed for the first time in eight years when it moved to Watson Island -- could be grounds for denial. (While the AZA doesn't prohibit animal sales outright, its code of ethics requires "every effort to assure that all animals do not find their way into the hands of those not qualified to care for them properly.")
So why shouldn't Parrot Jungle breed parrots and sell them at its park? It's perfectly legal, pet shops everywhere do the same thing, and obviously there's a market for the parrots. Critics of the practice, and there are many, consider it unethical for several reasons. Amy Rhodes, a spokeswoman for PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), says her organization believes that wild animals should not be sold as pets under any circumstance. Some animal activists consider that position to be extreme, though there is general agreement that all parrots are indeed wild, a view shared by the U.S. Department of Agriculture, which classifies parrots as "Class III" wild animals.
Rhodes, who says PETA has been tracking Parrot Jungle for several years, doesn't expect the place to change its business policies. She refers to a file of past complaints, which range from problems protecting its petting-farm animals to its old business of breeding and selling orangutans. "For them," she says, "it's all about the bottom line."
For its first 53 years of operation, under the supervision of original owner Franz Scherr, Parrot Jungle did not sell birds. It was only after veterinarian Bern Levine bought the place with Richard Schubot in 1988 that the park began wheeling and dealing parrots. Levine, a widely known bird breeder, was unavailable, but in a written statement Parrot Jungle spokeswoman Davia Fernandez defended that decision: "The practice of selling birds is not unethical if the birds are well cared for (which we do), have good health care (which we do), and are properly matched to the buyer (which we do).... It is not a new practice. Now we can provide great nutrition, housing, and enrichment for birds."