Monday was gorgeous, and because I’m between gigs right now, I had some time to enjoy the day. Accordingly, I decided to drive to Pueblo, around 40 miles south of Colorado Springs, to check out their zoo. Typically for me, I looked at Google maps for directions, thought I had a pretty good idea of where it was, but didn’t write down streets. Usually I can find my way around if I have a sense of where a place is located…or so I tell myself. There is evidence to the contrary. Such as this trip.

The zoo was not where I thought it was. After driving up and down the interstate, I took an exit that I thought sounded like a street I remembered being near the zoo. Yeah, not so much. I spent an hour and 15 minutes driving around Pueblo — which is not that large — and had to stop for directions twice. I still very nearly didn’t find the zoo. So, okay, some of that is my fault, but they couldn’t have made it more difficult for a lost person to find the place if they’d decided they never wanted another visitor.

I did pass several times through a tiny and ramshackle area that resembled a downtown, although I understand there’s a renovated and more upscale downtown near the Arkansas River. My original plan had included possibly checking it out, but by the time I found the zoo, I was ready to cry and way the heck over Pueblo. I have toyed with the idea of moving down there if I decided or were forced to stay in Colorado, but after that afternoon, I don’t care if I never go back.

I passed this sign several times. There’s such a thing as being too zealous, isn’t there?

Pueblo has an industrial history that includes railroads and steel. It calls itself “the steel city,” as if no one realized that Pittsburgh had already claimed that nickname. While I hadn’t been to Pueblo in years, the local news covers it regularly, including new births at the zoo, and my impression is that the town has been trying to re-brand itself as an artistic, cultural, sophisticated destination. By the time I reached the zoo, I intended to write a letter both to the Pueblo City Council and to the place’s management, pointing out that if they want visitors from out of town, they should put up signs that are not white and are larger than a piece of 8.5-by-11-inch paper, and maybe distribute them a bit more along the interstate and throughout the city.

I told the cashier the gist of all this, and she gave me a complimentary pass for a return visit within the month. Breathing deeply, I walked into the zoo, telling myself now I could relax; I love animals; seeing them would restore the good mood with which I’d started the trip. Within a few minutes, though, I decided not to waste time telling the zoo how to promote itself and realized I wasn’t likely to use the free pass.

Rather than the “world-class” zoo its website proclaims, this is a small, old, run-down facility with what seemed more like a token attempt to have “zoo species” than an active education and conservation center. Many of the larger animals were in enclosures with only dirt, little to no grass, and not much by way of enrichment. The entire place also stank, although to be fair that might have been partially due to the maned wolves.

Most of the animals did seem healthy, albeit bored, but the bald eagle was heartbreaking: It kept trying to fly and could not. Either its wings have been clipped or it was injured too badly to fly. (It and the golden eagle are both in open-air enclosures; I don’t know whether their wings were clipped to keep them from escaping or they were hurt in the wild too badly to survive and that’s how they ended up at the zoo; I couldn’t find any information about this, even though I looked.) Several reptiles also were in mid-shed and appeared to be stuck partway out of their skin, which I’m pretty sure iis a sign that humidity in their enclosures is far too low.

All that said, there were a few highlights: an albino peacock (he didn’t display his feathers for me, but I did get to see his red eyes):

I also got to see fruit bats grooming each other, and one was hanging over a food bowl and actually grabbed a fruit and ate the entire thing upside-down; that was pretty cool.

The gibbons were among the most lively, engaged animals. They seemed to be enjoying the afternoon sun as they climbed the walls.

I had just had a conversation with a woman in my book club about the ethics of zoos, and I’ve struggled myself with keeping reptiles as pets, when the exotic-pet industry does so much damage and leads to so much neglect and abuse. But I’ve been a member of the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo here for three years and the Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle for a year before that, and both of those are extensive, well-maintained facilities that seem dedicated to providing ample space for large animals, holding enrichment activities, and actively participating in both captive-breeding and international conservation programs. Even in these conditions, I don’t know if it’s “right” to keep wild animals in captivity, but I think it’s often the only option to preserve many of the beautiful and amazing species whose homes are being decimated or poisoned. I also think zoos are much different than they were even when I was growing up; instead of being places to just display exotic animals, the best of them seem to be moving toward a model where the animals have as rich and fulfilling lives as possible, including places to escape if they don’t feel like being stared at, and where the visitor experience is aimed at education and appreciation, rather than simply entertainment.

But the flip side is all the zoos where animals are squeezed into tiny enclosures that aren’t cleaned regularly, where they might not get adequate nutrition or stimulation or healthcare. The Pueblo zoo, it seems to me, falls somewhere in between: as I said, most of the animals seemed healthy and not miserable, but the whole place was just kind of dinky. And I’m sure funding has a lot to do with it; the there are several fairly large, historic exhibit areas that are too decrepit and run-down to house animals, and I’d imagine they haven’t been renovated because of the expense.

I don’t think this is a bad zoo; they’re probably doing the best they can with limited resources. But I found myself troubled and depressed and wishing that some wealthy donor would give the zoo the overhaul its animals deserve.