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The National Zoo’s two giant pandas don’t know how to mate with each other. But thanks to artificial insemination Mei Xiang (L) and Tian Tian (R) have produced two cubs, and a third may be on the way. Photo courtesy of the National Zoo

The National Zoo’s two giant pandas have little interest in each other 11 months of the year. Mei Xiang, 15, and Tian Tian, 16, are solitary creatures, happy to spend most of their days chowing down and napping. But March was mating season. For 30 to 45 days, pandas undergo behavioral and physical changes that prepare them for an annual 24- to 72-hour window in which females ovulate, the only time they can conceive.

Just because they are able to mate, though, doesn’t mean they will. Mei Xiang and Tian Tian are what David Wildt, head of the Center for Species Survival at the National Zoo, calls “behaviorally incompetent.”

“Tian Tian tries really hard, and is very diligent in his duties,” he says, “but he’s just not able to pull Mei Xiang into the proper mating position.”

The pair is not alone. Of pandas in the United States today, only two, Gao Gao and Bai Yun at the San Diego Zoo, have been able to breed naturally. Captive pairs have succeeded elsewhere in the world as well—especially in China, the bears’ native home, where the captive population is much higher—but mating difficulties are still common. Panda’s  total population, captive and wild, is about 2,000, so each failed match is a crucial missed opportunity for repopulation.

The species’ future is brighter than these mating difficulties suggest, though. Wildt is part of an international network of American and Chinese specialists—veterinarians, researchers and zookeepers—who have collaborated for years on improving captive panda breeding practices. In recent years, the team has made huge advances in understanding the bears’ biology and behavior, which has inspired new approaches to care that reduce faulty coupling, or even circumvent it.

Their studies are turning the tide. Today, the bears’ captive population is around 350, almost triple what it was 15 years ago.

When Mei Xiang began to ovulate on the last weekend of March, zookeepers closed the David M. Rubenstein Family Giant Panda Habitat to visitors, made sure she and Tian Tian were comfortable, then brought the lustful pair into the same room for the first time since last spring. The two had become rambunctious leading up to the encounter, and spent days staring longingly at one another through the fence that divides their yards. They had hardly touched their bamboo.

Despite the flirtatious fireworks, though—and while it was the seventh year in a row the two had been put together to mate—the two pandas again failed to copulate. As she has in the past, Mei Xiang flopped on her belly like a pancake when she met with Tian Tian—the opposite of good mating posture, which would have her rigid on all fours—and Tian Tian went about his usual routine of stomping around and standing on her, clueless what to do.

After multiple attempts, the keepers ushered the tired pair back to their separate yards.

Panda breeders’ challenge is overcoming unknown variables in the mating process, says Copper Aitken-Palmer, head vet at the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute. “There may be some developmental things that we are doing differently under human care, versus what they’re learning in the wild,” she says. Cubs often stay with their mothers for two or more years in the wild, for instance, so they might learn how to breed by watching or listening. Adults may need to mate with an experienced partner first to learn what to do. It’s hard to know for sure, Aitken-Palmer explains, because wild pandas are incredibly hard to observe in their bamboo-filled habitat in China’s southwestern mountains.

The zoo feeds Tian Tian up to 100 pounds of bamboo each day. Photo courtesy of the National Zoo

The National Zoo compensates for its lack of other pandas to mimic these conditions by preparing Mei Xiang and Tian Tian year-round for mating, both the act itself and the steps leading up to and following it. Since Mei Xiang arrived, she has been trained to receive injections, get blood drawn, milk and lie peacefully during ultrasounds, all without a fuss. (She even rubs the ultrasound gel over herself for her keepers.) The Zoo is trying to teach her to pancake onto a raised platform instead of the ground to make herself more accessible to Tian Tian, and also gives Tian Tian strengthening exercises so one day he might learn to pull her upright.

In China, zoos and breeding centers with a greater number of pandas use similar techniques to encourage coupling, and have begun to test the theory that pandas learn from observation by having cubs attend breeding sessions. On rare occasions, some Asian breeding centers have gone so far as to show their bears videos of other pandas mating—yep, panda porn. There’s no concrete evidence it works, though.

(Josh Groban has his own panda mating technique, but its success also hasn’t been confirmed.)

More than behavioral changes, the most significant improvements in breeding techniques have come at the chemical level. Researchers have developed increasingly accurate measurements of female pandas’ hormone levels and vaginal cell changes, and now are able to pinpoint the exact ideal time frame for a panda’s egg to be fertilized. This new-found accuracy not only dictates the best window to put two pandas together in the same room, but also dramatically improves the success of the practice that allows pairs who cannot figure out how to mate to have cubs anyways: artificial insemination.

“Because pandas’ reproductive activity is so infrequent, they don’t have many opportunities for sexual experimentation and figuring it out,” Wildt says. A panda in heat in the wild may mate with a number of males all competing for her, but those in America’s zoos are stuck with the one they’ve got, regardless of sexual compatibility. Artificial insemination is key to panda breeding, he explains, because it has allowed scientists to overstep the hurdle of sexual compatibility entirely. The technique, which deposits collected semen into a female while she is anesthetized, was “very rudimentary” in the early 2000s, in his words, but took off about seven years ago when scientists began to develop effective ways to freeze and store semen for multiple years and craft more precise tools, like tiny catheters that sneak through a female panda’s cervix to place sperm directly into her uterus.

So far in America, six panda cubs have been produced by artificial insemination, including two from Mei Xiang. That’s one more than the number of the country’s naturally conceived cubs—and as Wildt points out, those cubs all come from the same super-compatible couple in San Diego. (No exact data is available for China’s natural vs. artificial breeding stats, Wildt says, because its zoos often follow successful natural mating sessions with artificial inseminations the next day to improve the chances of fertilization.)

Artificial insemination is particularly valuable for America’s pandas, along with all others outside of China’s well-populated breeding centers, because it has the potential to increase genetic diversity, which is essential for maintaining the captive population’s health as it expands. Mei Xiang has been artificially inseminated every year she has failed to mate with Tian Tian since 2005. This year, for the first time, she was inseminated with semen from two males, first with a fresh-frozen combination of Tian Tian’s sperm, and 12 hours later with some of Gao Gao’s semen stirred in as well, shipped frozen from San Diego. “Artificial insemination gives us the opportunity to mix things up in the absence of multiple males,” Aitken-Palmer says.

To strengthen Tian Tian for mating, the National Zoo keeps him active by putting treats around his yard for him to find. Photo courtesy of the National Zoo

According to Wildt, the National Zoo will continue to focus on artificial insemination for the foreseeable future. But natural breeding is the ultimate goal for the species, once zoos and breeding centers have large enough panda populations to depend on it, he says. The numbers are headed in the right direction; the bears are back to “self-sustaining,” which means no more giant pandas have to be brought into captivity, and scientists will have them under their care for at least the next 100 years. The Chinese are even beginning to reintroduce pandas into the wild (although with some difficulty).

“It’s really a great success story,” says Aitken-Palmer. “There aren’t many endangered animals we’ve been able to do this with.”

Now, everyone is waiting on Mei Xiang to add to the species’ growing numbers. Her first cub, Tai Shan, came in 2005, and the second, born last summer after years of disappointment, died from underdeveloped lungs after just six days. Another successful birth would help to heal the wounds of last year’s tragedy, says Juan Rodriguez, one of the National Zoo’s panda keepers.

It also would give Mei Xiang and Tian Tian’s Chinese owners a good reason to keep the pair together at the zoo instead of considering a different match, which has been an ongoing discussion.

Bandie Smith, the Zoo’s giant panda curator, says not to hold your breath for news on Mei Xiang’s pregnancy anytime soon. The staff might not know if Mei Xiang is pregnant until a cub pops out. Females build nests and cradle objects each year whether they are pregnant or not (the latter is called a “pseudo-pregnancy”), and the fetuses are so small that they often escape detection in ultrasounds. Pandas experience a phenomenon called delayed implantation, too, in which a fertilized egg floats around for a number of weeks—usually between 90 and 160 days—before implanting in the female’s uterus and beginning a short 40- to 50-day gestation period.

All this means that no one has a very exact idea of when a new cub would arrive—somewhere around mid-August, Smith says.

“Breeding pandas is a very protracted process, and it’s never a guarantee. That’s the frustrating part,” says Rodriguez. “The cool part is that you’re among people who are trying to keep a critically endangered species on the planet. If we can ensure their continuous path to recovery, then our great grandchildren could actually experience pandas in their natural habitat. You can’t beat that.”

Mei Xiang plays in the snow! Photo courtesy of the National Zoo

Bozie will go into quarantine for a minimum of 30 days upon her arrival at the National Zoo, per standard procedure. An expert team of elephant keepers, nutritionists and veterinarians will care for her. Following quarantine, Zoo staff will begin the process of introducing her to females Ambika and Shanthi and male Kandula. Photo courtesy of the National Zoo

The National Zoo’s three Asian elephants are about to get a new friend. Today, the Zoo announced the pending arrival of Bozie, a 37-year-old female Asian Elephant who will be on-loan from the Baton Rouge Zoo.

Baton Rogue recently decided to find a new home for Bozie after her last elephant companion, Judy, died of chronic gastrointestinal irritation from arthritis medication in March. Female elephants are social animals, so they are happiest and healthiest when living with others.

Judy had been at the Baton Rogue Zoo since 1974. Bozie, who was born in the wild in Sri Lanka, arrived at Baton Rogue in 1998 after living at other zoos.

The National Zoo has plenty of room to accommodate Bozie, now that the final major phase of its seven-year, $56 million renovation project of its Elephant Trails Habitat was completed in March. The Zoo is regarded as a leader in elephant research, particularly on Asian elephants, which are both less studied and far more endangered than their African relatives. (Around 30,000 to 50,000 Asian elephants are alive today, compared to around 400,000 African ones.)

“One of our major goals is to create an environment where elephants can live as a more natural social unit,” Marie Galloway, elephant manager at the National Zoo, said when the renovations were completed.

We look forward to welcoming Bozie when she arrives, date TBA.

Bozie paints a picture! Photo courtesy of the National Zoo

Playful but poignant, this photo of a tiny yellow goby living inside an abandoned soda can taken in Suruga Bay, Japan reveals the arresting quality of Brian Skerry’s work. All photos courtesy of Brian Skerry.

Brian Skerry may have just about the best office in the world. It’s beautiful, quiet and big, like 70 percent of the Earth big. That’s because Skerry is a photojournalist who spends most of his time exploring the oceans.

“To some, my work might seem like one long, endless vacation,” writes Skerry on his blog, “traveling to exotic locales and living romantic adventures.” But he says, “The reality is far less romantic of course.”  Inevitably, capturing that perfect moment, when a tiny yellow goby peeks out from a discarded soda can, for example, takes time and patience. But in the end, the work that takes him all over the world and lets him swim with sharks or capture changing environments, is well worth it.

In honor of the opening of the renovated portion of Ocean Hall at the Natural History Museum on April 5, 20 of Skerry’s stunning photographs will be on display for the exhibit, “Portraits of Planet Ocean: The Photography of Brian Skerry.”

“My hope,” he says, “is to continually find new ways of creating images and stories that both celebrate the sea yet also highlight environmental problems.”

Read more about his work here.

Sea pens and a blue cod mingle in a rare moment in New Zealand.

His work often deals with issues of conservation. Here, a leatherback turtle hatchling heads to the sea in Trinidad.

Skerry says he traveled to the Auckland Islands, hoping to photograph a pristine population of right whales after having spent the previous year working on a story about the beleaguered North Atlantic right whales, of which about only 350 remain. He says his encounter here with a 70-ton whale was the single most incredible animal encounter he’s ever had.

From big to small, Skerry sees it all, including a spiny-headed blenny in Belize.

The colors and textures of ocean life never disappoint.

A group of black margate pose in the waters off Belize.

A female leatherback turtle crawls ashore under moonlight to rest in Trinidad.

Skerry captures an oceanic whitetip shark and diver in the Bahamas. He says he has had countless magical encounters with sharks, an animal he considers to be perfect.

Last week, National Zoo officials spotted several black-crowned night herons roaming the property. Within two weeks, they expect to see hundreds more because the birds are the one species that come and go as they please at the Zoo. The black and white birds have been nesting there since 1889, before the Zoo was founded, and every year around mid-March, they fly in and visit until around mid-September.

Though the population is doing fine worldwide, in the mid-Atlantic region the status of the birds is threatened due to habitat loss. According to biologist Sara Hallager, the big draw that keeps the birds coming back to the Zoo year after year might be the plentiful free food and lush grounds.

At first, the breeding birds competed with the Zoo’s own collection of animals at the Bird House,  she says. But then staff began feeding the herons separately. Now, with daily 2 p.m. feedings, the visiting animals have actually become a bit of an attraction when they get their handouts out behind the Bird House.

These heron are much shorter than related species. Courtesy of the Zoo

Catch daily feedings at 2 p.m. behind the Bird House. Courtesy of the Zoo

The first scouts typically arrive in mid-March, returning with the group two weeks later. Around the Bird House, they can be seen building nests for the next generation. One month later, the chicks are born. The group stays through mid-September and disappear suddenly just before the chill in the Fall. They are believed to winter in southeastern states or even the Caribbean.

Other than the occasional false alarm when a visitor thinks that that perhaps one of the Zoo’s birds has escaped, the annual visit is a welcomed sight–the Zoo’s very own sign of spring on its way.

Shanti the elephant has been having the time of her life. In 2010, the National Zoo opened the first phase of Elephant Trails, a major renovation of its elephant habitat, and zookeepers allowed her to be the first to play in her home’s expanded yards. She was ecstatic. Now, the Zoo is set to open a new Elephant Community Center on Saturday, March 23, and Shanti again got a sneak preview.

“Shanti just loved every single moment of it,” says elephant manager Marie Galloway. “She came in and she explored every single nook and cranny.”

Shanti takes a drink! The Elephant Community Center has a wading pool with a shower that the elephants can activate.

The Elephant Community Center is the last major addition to the Zoo’s seven-year, $56 million renovation project, which vastly expands the roaming space, and also adds a barn and an exercise and research outpost for the Zoo’s three Asian elephants. (The exhibit now spans 8,943 square meters.) Inside the community center, elephants socialize and are cared for with state-of-the-art facilities, including a heated, sand-covered floor and a wading pool with a shower that can be activated by the elephants themselves. Interactive exhibits in the center showcase the Zoo’s research and explain the elephant’s physical traits, cognitive abilities and behaviors.

“One of our major goals of this project is to create an environment where elephants can live as a more natural social unit,” Galloway explains. “That means creating a multi-generational related herd of elephants, and comfortable space for more independent males to live here as well. We want to grow a family, not just open up an exhibit and fill it with elephants.”

Versatility is key to encouraging this socialization, Galloway says. The new environment is customizable and varied, with doors that open and close to modify spaces and exits to outdoor areas from every indoor facility. The design aims to provide elephants with as many options as possible to meet their social needs; they can get out of each other’s sight, be in sight of each other, but not in each other’s space, or cuddle up close if they are elephant best friends.

“You have to treat every single one of them as an individual. We want to be able to make everybody comfortable no matter what their social preferences are,” Galloway says.

Ultimately, she hopes that more comfortable elephants will give Zoo visitors a better elephant-watching experience. Visitors will need to spend more time tracking down the elephants in their expanded environment, but Galloway thinks what they find will be worth the extra effort. “If the elephants are enjoying themselves, the people are enjoying themselves,” she says.

Shanti plays in the sand! The Elephant Community Center has heated floors covered in 1.2 meters of sand.

Enjoyment, though, she stresses, is not the exhibit’s only end. The National Zoo is regarded as a leader in elephant research, particularly on Asian elephants, which are both less studied and far more endangered than their African relatives. (Around 30,000 to 50,000 Asian elephants are alive today, compared to around 400,000 African ones.) Elephant Trails carries a strong message about the problems elephants face and what visitors can do to protect them. While the Zoo’s staff has always made an effort to convey this message, Galloway says, the new community center uses its displays to call visitors to action: “You can get that message without seeing a single person or elephant.”

But don’t miss seeing the elephants! Here are more pictures of them:

One of the elephants on the “Elephant Trek” exercise trail.

Shanti’s son Kandula hanging out in one of the yards.

Elephant games!

Shanti the Asian elephant plays with a tire in the National Zoo’s new Elephant Community Center, which opens on Saturday, March 23. All photos courtesy of the National Zoo