Two days later they reached New Mexico. They stopped at a telephone booth to call the ranch to let everyone know they were on their way.
By now, they had learned how to drive a truck and trailer with an elephant on board. Elephants tend to rock considerably to maintain good blood circulation. However, when there are four tons up off the ground, rocking back and forth, the handling of the trailer becomes difficult. There is a danger of turning over, especially if the elephant is rocking to the right as a right-hand turn is made. But by the time they hit Arizona, all was going quite well. Every time they crossed a state border, the state police had them unload Mo, as her constant rocking prevented an accurate reading at the weigh station.
A day and a half later, they rolled into the ranch early in the morning. All the smells of the other animals must have brought back some memories that excited Modoc, for she let out trumpet after trumpet, blasting the air all the way up the half-mile entrance. Ralph and Frank followed suit by blasting their diesel horn. Modoc was home!
The horses and zebras bolted and raced around their pens, and the macaws and peacocks shrieked. The camels looked on, munching, while the ostriches ran in zigzag patterns, looking like ballerinas in tutus. Everyone came out to greet Mo. Ralph and Frank jumped out of the cab into the arms of their loved ones and amid the accolades of the group. Then they went around to the back door, put down the ramp, and walked in. They undid Mo’s leg chain and slowly backed her out of the trailer. For the next few hours, she was lavished with care, and with goodies: popcorn (to make her feel at home), candy, soda pop, cookies, bread. She even ate a bouquet of flowers that had been brought for her arrival!
A reconstructed garage became her new house. A thin, lightweight, fifty-foot chain was attached to her good hind leg, giving her complete access to the outdoors as well as to the interior of the garage. She could have broken the chain at any time, but she never even tried. A large bathtub filled with water was at her constant disposal.
The vet arrived early the next morning. He took one look at Modoc’s condition and told them that they’d gotten her out just in the nick of time. She would never have survived another winter back there.
They went to work on her nails, which were overgrown, gnarled, and broken. They worked for hours clipping, filing, and rasping, but Ralph figured it would be months before they would be back to normal.
The vet then wormed her, treated her minor cuts and injuries, and put her on some fast-acting vitamins and mineral supplements. Checking her teeth, he found he had to “float” the back ones. Sometimes, due to a poor diet, an animal’s back molars will grow sharp points that prevent the teeth from grinding food properly. “Floating” is done by rasping the points off with a large steel file, making the molars flat and more efficient.
Then they all concentrated on the big problem…her ankle. The vet felt that major surgery was needed, but in Mo’s weakened condition, it was too risky to put her under an anesthetic. So he decided to use a local painkiller and depend on her good nature and mild attitude to allow him to work.
They brought Mo to a small, clean pad of cement, which was normally used for washing down the camels and hoofed stock. Giving her a command to “come down” and another to “come over,” they laid her down and prepared her for surgery. Once the drugs had taken effect, the vet began to cut the hide along the top of the heavy chain with a large surgical knife, with the aim of cutting a complete circle. The cutting was so difficult that they had to take turns holding and separating the thick hide. The skin was exceptionally tough, and penetrating it was very hard work.
Once the vet had cut completely through, he gently used a small scalpel to part the flesh all the way to the embedded chain. Even though he had given Mo a blood coagulant, she was still bleeding profusely. Toni assisted by dabbing gauze and cotton swabs after each cut. Frank kept Mo lying quietly with gentle persuasion and touching.
That she hadn’t died of infection or tetanus was amazing, the vet said. Her body had built up a tough wall of gristlelike flesh surrounding the chain. The rust from the chain had penetrated the area and turned it a dark brown. They cut the main bolt holding the chain around the leg. Ralph took one end and the vet took the other, and together they slowly lifted it away from the raw flesh, uprooting its many-yeared implant. In places it was held fast by the skin growth, but a quick cut with the scalpel set it free. Once it was out, they went to work washing and disinfecting the trench, which was about two inches deep. The bleeding continued, so Mo was given more coagulants.
Suturing was impossible. The excessive, or “proud,” flesh was trimmed off to promote growth, shots were given, bandages were applied, and a specially constructed shield cast was strapped into place over the wound. It was shaped like a cone and served to protect against dirt and Modoc’s probing trunk. Her good eye was searching back and forth, trying to see what was going on. On Frank’s command of “Up,” Modoc threw her legs out and up. Then, bringing them down hard, she pulled herself into a sitting position, and finally she stood up.
Mo was kept dry and warm, and her bandages were changed daily. Painkillers were injected as often as needed. For the next few weeks she favored the other foot, keeping the pressure off the injured one.
The weeks passed, and Mo’s overall condition continually improved. Although she had a long way to go, the wrinkles in her skin had began to disappear, as she had gained a couple hundred pounds. The new television season’s shooting was coming near, and after consultation with the vet, they decided that a few short and easy training sessions would be acceptable.
They had built some sturdy pedestals and set them up inside a circular area the size of a circus arena. Around it they placed cut oak logs, to serve as the perimeter. Quite a few of the staff had gathered to watch Modoc go through her paces. They moved one of the oak logs so that she could enter the arena. As Ralph stooped down replacing it, he heard a gasp from the onlookers. He stood up and turned around to one of the most phenomenal sights he had ever witnessed.
Modoc had walked to the center of the ring while he was putting the log back in place. Someone had found some old circus music and had turned it on, and the music of the calliope sounded across the arena. Suddenly she had started to dance. When Ralph turned, there she was, performing on her own in the dusty old arena. Her massive frame shook and quivered.
He couldn’t believe it. What she was doing was impossible. No animal performs without a trainer—at least, he’d never seen it done. Plus, whatever the reason, she hadn’t performed in years! How was this possible? Here she was, dancing like a seasoned performer, pirouetting and swirling, doing hops and skips, waltzes, leg-ups, and pedestal work. She was circling the arena—one, two, three, waltz; one, two, three, waltz. Her muscles were weak from years of inactivity, and her sore foot must have made it difficult, but she was doing it! Trunk up, head held high, Modoc wasn’t in this old arena—she was in a circus tent, on a sawdust floor, swirling to the music beneath a spotlight. She was a star of the big top, with thousands of people applauding. There were clowns and children and cotton candy—“Step right up! See the big show!” It was all there. The memories, the smells, the laughter, the applause. Modoc ended her act with a bow, and the music stopped. The huge audience dwindled to those few who were standing on the fence or seated on the top rail.
They were all speechless, teary-eyed at what they had just seen. Modoc stood, waiting quietly. It was then that Ralph looked down and saw the blood oozing from her ankle. She had opened the wound.
Then came the applause, the whistles, the congratulations. They all rushed to her with hugs and kisses and many “well done” pats, and then gently headed her back to the barn for treatment. True, her performance had been somewhat shaky and uneven, and some of it she hadn’t been able to do at all. But she had tried!
Ralph knew then that this lady must have been a star—a great star—to be able to perform in the ring without a trainer. She must have been world-renowned.
40
“THEY HAVE ANIMAL RENTAL COMPANIES HERE,” said Gertie.
“What’s that—who would rent an animal?”
“The movies would. How do you think they get all those animals to perform?”
“Let’s go. There are only a few of them. We can ask about Modoc and work!”
The animal establishments were scattered around the northern end of Los Angeles. Each was nestled in the countryside as exotic animals were not allowed in the city. Bram and Gertie visited them one by one, asking if there was any work available. But the answer was always the same. Sorry, and no, we don’t know of any…Modoc!
The final place was in a remote area called Aqua Dulce. The countryside changed from green to semi-arid. The weather turned hot, the country bleak, almost barren.
They turned onto a ranch road with an overhead sign that read: GENTLE JUNGLE EXOTIC ANIMAL RENTAL.
“Sounds strange.”
“Sounds nice.”
As they pulled in they noticed the vegetation had changed. Sycamores, oaks, palm trees, semitropical plants abounded. Unique rock formations added to the dramatic change.
Animals were everywhere! Many Bram had never seen before. Orangutan, leopards, camels, chimps, tigers, lions. There was an ambience of the past here. The name implied love and animals, the two things most dear to his heart.
The truck rolled to a stop near a large arena. Bram sniffed the air. “Gertie, they have elephants!”
An animal keeper came out to greet them. “Howdy, what can I do for you?”
“We came to see if you had any work available and…?”
“Gee, I’m sorry, but the owner is away and won’t be back until later. Best if you came back then.”
“But I…”
The man had walked on, not rude, just going on with his duties.
“Well, what do you think?” asked Gertie.
Bram had walked off a bit, his head held high, eyes searching, listening…“Gertie, Mosie’s here!”
“What!”
“She is, I know it! Oh! My God, Gertie…!”
Bram started to walk into the animal compound.
“Bram, we’re trespassing.”
He never heard her. He walked attentively, listening, alert. “Mosie, where are you girl, Mosie, MODOC!!” he yelled. He started to run. To cry heartfelt sobs. Tears flowed down his cheeks. “WHERE ARE YOU?”
The earth seemed to explode! A blast of pure vocal energy in a volume not heard before came from somewhere, everywhere.
“Gertie, it’s Mo! It’s MO!” Bram ran faster, following the trumpeting!
A ripping, tearing noise was heard. It was coming from around the side of a building! Bram was now racing. As he came around the corner he saw her! There was Modoc coming on, dragging her injured foot, trumpeting, heading for a fence. Lowering her head she plowed through it—throwing stakes, wire in all directions. Bellowing, shaking her head, ears out, the leg chain she had just uprooted dangling behind her, she held her head sideways to see him with her good eye, crashing through the fence. Limping from her injury, she headed toward Bram.
Bram was running full out, Gertie close behind. The dust hadn’t settled when she came to a sudden stop before him! Bram leaped up, grabbing her trunk, hugging, holding! She swung him high in the air, dancing, squeaking, shrieking, kicking her feet.
“Mosie, Mosie, how I missed you!” he cried.
Her good eye opened wide to take in the man she loved, the man who all her life had been her friend, her father figure, her mentor. They had, at last, found each other.
Gertie, too, was held tight by her trunk. Mo’s belly rumbling said it all. They were together again!
The keeper stood awestruck, his mouth open. To ease the keeper’s confusion, Bram turned and said happily, “Don’t worry, we’re family!”
Bram noticed the foot. The blood was pouring from the opening because of the activity.
That evening Ralph arrived from working a lion at the studio.
Bram and Gertie, along with the keeper, were up in the barn changing the bandages on Modoc’s foot when he arrived. At first Ralph was upset that these “strangers” were there treating Mo. For the next hour and on into an evening dinner, they talked. Bram and Gertie told Ralph the story starting way back in Germany.
Ralph was overwhelmed. “In all my years in the animal business, never have I heard such a story! Incredible! I don’t know how you made it! What an extreme series of emotional ups and downs,” he said. Then, thinking about it, “You know, in many ways we’re quite similar. We both share the metaphysical approach to life. Our method of handling animals is as one. We feel the same about nature and particularly about the animals. My idea of affection training is kin to your training beliefs. Look, I’d love to have you on board here at the ranch. But you have to be aware that sometimes your salaries may be a bit late. Jobs in the movie industry are few and far between. Money to run the ranch is hard to come by, sometimes nonexistent. It depends on how much studio work comes in. A big job can bring a handsome profit, but it’s short-lived. The animals keep eating, bills have to be paid. Companies bigger than mine take most of the business…but someday with the knowledge of affection training spreading throughout the studios we hope to get our fair share. But it’s up to you.”
Bram and Gertie started work the next day.
In the years that followed a whole new experience opened up for Hollywood. With Ralph’s affection training methods, actors could work directly with animals that in the past had been too dangerous to be with. With the advent of this new gentle way, the company soared to the top. The name was changed to Africa, U.S.A. because of the large number of African animals that were being filmed. In a short time Africa, U.S.A. became the largest animal rental company in the world. Modoc, along with Zamba the lion, C.J. the orangutan, Judy the chimp, Clarence the Cross-eyed Lion, and many, many more were to become famous animal movie stars. They and others were awarded over twenty-four PATSY awards, the highest honor given to an animal that performs in the movie business.
Hollywood and its movie stars fell in love with Mo and her friends. She had made her comeback—and had risen to stardom again. Bram also built a name for himself. His fame in Hollywood as a great trainer was matched by his reputation as a warm and gentle man.
41
“MO IS LOSING HER SIGHT IN THE OTHER EYE, Bram. I don’t think it’s related to the injury in the left one. I think it’s just old age. She’s getting up there, you know. Her life has not been an easy one, and it’s just taken its toll.”
She had never really recovered from her years away. That had been a terrible ordeal!
Bram knew that the veterinarian was right. Lately he had to smooth out the ground in and around the barn because Mo, not being able to see where she was going, had been tripping a lot and he was afraid she might hurt herself.
“Modoc needs to retire, Bram.”
“Ah! To retire is to die.”
“No, I just mean not to do any big jobs, jobs that take her energy.”
She could work around the ranch, maybe do a few things for the schoolchildren on the weekends but…“It’s time.”
Bram knew it as well, but to face it, to tell Mo…He, too, was feeling physically tired in ways that he had not experienced before. He felt a calling alerting him that time was running out. A Cross-Over was in the making,
They were growing old together. They were given a job appearing at a beautiful affair held on the lawn of a Beverly Hills mansion. A job that the veterinarian approved of.
The proprietor had asked that Modoc be put on top of a small grass hill so everybody could see her. Nothing more, no performance. She was there as a “movie star.”
Bram scrubbed her till she sparkled. Her eyesight by now had gotten worse, but as long as she could hear Bram’s voice she was content. She accepted her blindness as a matter of fact. As long as she was fed, watered, and knew he was there, and knew she could wrap her trunk around him and belly-rumble on occasion, she
was happy.
The crowd gathered in a huge circle around her. Oohs and ahhs were heard. They asked questions about her studio career. Some of the dignitaries had their pictures taken with her.
Late in the afternoon Bram settled down under a nearby shade tree, as most of the crowd had left, when a solitary figure walked out of the shadows. He was an older man, large, dressed in a wool turtleneck sweater, heavy pea coat, oversized baggy pants, a wrinkled brimmed hat, and old heavy-duty shoes.
The man, limping a bit, headed straight up the hill to Modoc.
“Excuse me, sir!” said Bram
He never stopped.
As he approached Modoc, he stood for a moment, then dropped to his knees and put his arms around her leg. As Bram came up the hill he heard him quietly sobbing.
Mo was tender with him. She touched his head gently and then, as a sign of recognition, belly-rumbled. Bram knelt down beside the man, his hand on his shoulder. The man turned, looking straight into Bram’s face. Bram’s mind exploded into a sea of memory, of one lost in the annals of time. Eyes that once saw death, that…
“Hands! Oh my God…Hands!” He threw his arms around the big fellow, practically knocking him over.
“Bram, my friend, my dear friend!”
They sobbed together, hugging, laughing, choking back the tears of joy. The hands that had held Bram up, that gave him the hope to stay afloat, now wrapped around him, holding as before.
“What are you doing here?” asked Bram through the sniffles.
“I was invited to the party by some old friends. It was so boring I was leaving when I saw…Modoc. I wasn’t sure it was her,” he said, wiping his eyes. “But when I came closer, I knew. I didn’t even see you under the tree!”
“But where have you been? I tried to find you, looked everywhere.”