Expatica Germany's editor learns once again never to underestimate the power of an animal story.

 When I was just starting out as a reporter, all fired up over exposing corruption and saving the poor, my (wonderful) metro editor at an American daily newspaper asked me if I could cover this one story the entire newsroom was hot for.

It was about two brown bears named Cassie and Stand with a Fist. They were best friends at the zoo until Stand with a Fist died. Afterward, Cassie fell apart.

What my editor wanted was a story on the lonely bear and a plan by the zoo to introduce Cassie to an abandoned bear cub in the hope that she and the cub would bond and benefit.

You are joking, I thought. I was working on an 'important' story about women in prison. Why should I write about this?

Of course, I did it. And I wrote the hell out of it, too, just for fun, probably to mock it a little bit.

To my surprise, the weekend following my story, 16,000 people showed up to visit the bears.

And I, since that day, have never underestimated the animal story ever again.

 What is it about animal stories that so draw in people, I sometimes wonder. Maybe it is just a nice break from the violence, politics and disasters that dominate headlines. Or is it that since we grow up with stuffed likenesses and books and cartoons humanizing lions, rabbits and bears, it is a natural transition. Or maybe it just provides a profound break to the drudgery of daily life and gives us a chance to sympathize, melt and dream.

Regardless, since Cassie, I have written dozens of animal stories, edited and posted even more: on a new baby giraffe; the death of the D.C. panda, Hsing-Hsing; the cat that stowed away on an airplane across continents, the sloth that was too slothful for researchers and so on.

Some are funny: the frantic hunt for the elusive and intelligent beavers that were feasting on Washington's beloved Cherry Blossom trees. Some are just cute, such as the black swan that fell in love with a boat that is shaped like a swan. Others are sad, like one about a special eagle, a diplomatic gift from Germany actually, that the zoo wasn't treating properly (I actually had a 'deep throat' at the zoo for that one, can you imagine).

And then there is Knut, charming, cuddly Knut, innocent, meltingly cute Knut.

From the first, I knew that Knut would become an international sensation. All the ingredients are there: A totally irresistible face, a sob story of abandonment by a mother, a devoted savior that nurtures him carefully and lovingly.

And of course, this being Germany, there is controversy, this time in the form of well-intentioned animal activists gone wrong. (Just in case you hadn't heard, animal activists wanted Knut put to death because being raised by human hands violates his human rights.)

Oh please.

I'll admit right now, I love animals. My dogs eat better than most humans. And I hope the chicken that I buy was treated humanely while it lived.

And I will concede one point: It is true that it sometimes hurts animals to be raised by humans. I have seen that first hand.

 Once on a trip to Belize, I stumbled onto a remote zoo in the middle of the country with virtually no visitors. It was a wild place, with exotic animals vying for our attention: an mischievous otter performing tricks every time we tried to leave his cage; dozens of parrots who imitated my laugh and kept luring me back for more; an extremely friendly deer and an affectionate raccoon.

This zoo, it turns out, is a refuge for animals that have been featured in films. That is why they are so friendly and so craving of attention. But they are lonely and lost because they are no longer fit for the wild they were taken from.

So I am glad that there are people fighting for animal rights. But why do they have to shoot themselves in the foot?

Knut certainly isn't going to be able to survive in the wild now. But he wouldn't have if he were abandoned by his mother there either or put back as a cub.

And who really wants this creature to die? Especially when he is bringing joy to so many and seems to be enjoying himself to boot.

Maybe Knut won't have the freedom out in the wild that a bear deserves. I admit that I certainly fantasize about letting my freedom-loving Siberian Husky and Samoyed pull sleighs in Alaska with other snow dogs.

But I think Knut will certainly have a nice and pampered life, not least because his celebrity status will guarantee it. And he is certainly celebrated and loved – by the thousands that line up to see him, who tune into his webcasts and blogs, in dozens of songs dedicated to him and in news stories that deliver 'paw-grams' around the world and muse over whether his popularity contributed to the death of the Berlin Zoo's panda.

After all, who else could have followed German Chancellor Angela Merkel on the cover of the German Vanity Fair?

March 2007

Copyright Expatica 2007

Subject: German, life in Germany, polar bear, Knut, media