The Tiger Who Wouldn't Be Trained

A keeper from the Seoul Zoo big-cat house was walking toward his assigned enclosure, his face drawn tight with worry.

"Seorak hasn't looked right… He even left food this morning."

The predator in his care was a Siberian tiger who had turned ten with the new year. Seorak was still in his prime. He had never been particularly warm with his keeper, though every now and then he would offer a little swish of his tail, and his appetite had always been excellent.

For the past few days, though, he had been eating more slowly. And this morning, he had left food behind. Something was clearly wrong.

"Is he hurting somewhere?"

The keeper's expression darkened with every step toward Seorak's house. Pain, in a big cat, was never a small matter. Seorak was a predator who needed to be anesthetized ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even for a routine checkup, and the thought that they might have to dart him just to look him over sent a wave of regret through the man — or not quite regret. It was closer to a deep, helpless pity.

Halla, a tigress three years Seorak's senior, had mastered positive reinforcement training, and she received her basic physicals without any anesthesia at all. She would slide her tail through a slot cut in the bars so the waiting veterinarian could draw blood from the vessel there. She would offer a paw into a designated opening so they could check for interdigital furunculosis and inspect her claws. She would even yawn her jaws wide and let them look inside her mouth. They could take radiographs of her feet. They could examine her eyes.

"If only Seorak had gone through the same training."

Seorak had been a candidate for the program too. His resistance had been so fierce, though, that after a few attempts they had given it up. If things had gone to plan, he would have been offering himself for voluntary exams by now, just like Halla. The keeper ached over that.

But that was beside the point. Right now, he needed to find out what was hurting Seorak.

The keeper stepped into the big-cat house. The sound hit him the instant he crossed the threshold.

ROAAAR!

It was Seorak's roar — a sound to freeze the blood. The keeper's shoulders jerked, and he quickened his pace. The closer he drew to the enclosure, the rougher Seorak's cries became.

Grrrr. Grrrrrrr!

GROOOWL! RAAAHH!

Seorak was pacing the enclosure in a frantic circuit. The thud of his paws came faster and faster. Thud. Thud. Thud. The sound of a body slamming the wall. Clang. Clang. A ringing crash as he struck the steel bars.

The moment Seorak registered the keeper, he peeled his lips back from those enormous teeth and snarled.

ROAAAR! Grrrowl!

And then, as the keeper came closer, Seorak charged the bars, hurling himself against the steel, all aggression.

God— S-Seorak…

The keeper fumbled for his phone and punched in a number. The line rang and rang, but no one picked up.

"Must be out on a house call."

He drew a long breath and hesitated.

"He'll have gone home by now…"

Even so, given the situation, he had no choice. He tried a different number. One ring. Two. Then the other end picked up.

Park I-chan could not possibly have known every animal in a zoo of more than three hundred species and twenty-seven hundred individual creatures. The big cats were different, though. There were so few of them — and a tiger was a tiger. Keeper Ji Hyun-woo had used the name at once, and the shock in Park I-chan's voice had come through the line exactly as expected. When the veterinarian agreed to come without a moment's hesitation, the keeper finally exhaled.

By the time he hung up, Park I-chan was already on his way back to the zoo. To be more precise: his colleague, the veterinarian Choi Jae-woo, had been driving, and the instant Park I-chan said Seorak's agitated?, Choi Jae-woo had swung the wheel around.

"Why's Seorak like that?" Choi Jae-woo asked.

"Who knows. He's probably in pain."

"Aigoo. Don't tell me we're taking that guy into surgery at the crack of the new year?"

"As long as he gets better…"

"Well. That's true."

Thirty minutes after clocking out, the two of them were headed back to the place they worked. There was not a trace of irritation on either face — only a crease of worry, and the quiet hope that whatever was wrong with Seorak would not be serious.

Another thirty minutes later, they were standing in front of a tiger who had lost his mind.

Grrrowl! ROAAAR! ROAAAR!

Seorak peeled back those long fangs and hurled himself at the two men. If the bars had not been there, they would already have been on the ground. They had become veterinarians because they loved animals — but in a moment like this, their blood ran cold.

"Whoa. This guy is genuinely furious. He looks terrified."

"He does. He's never been cuddly, but I don't remember him being this savage. Keeper Ji is right — something's wrong with his body."

"That's correct. Seorak hasn't been himself these past few days."

"And his food?"

"He started eating less about a week ago, I think."

"A whole week?"

"That's when the appetite seemed to drop. From then on he ate a little more slowly, though he still finished everything. Then this morning he started leaving some. I was going to watch him a bit longer before I said anything."

"Ah. I see."

"So he's been hurting since then."

"That would follow. When he ate, did he turn his head to the side at all?"

"His teeth could be bothering him."

Keeper Ji thought for a moment, then answered slowly.

"Now that you mention it… he did seem to swallow the pieces we'd cut small. The big ones took him longer. Is it his gums, then?"

"It could be. Or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it could be something else entirely. Let's have a look."

Seorak was still worked up, snarling and slamming the bars, but the two veterinarians watched him with a steady calm. They needed to gather as much information as they could before anyone reached for an anesthetic.

"It's winter," Choi Jae-woo said. "We should check the joints too."

"Understood."

"A tiger's still a tiger, but winter is still winter."

"Yes. From here, nothing looks swollen."

"No, it doesn't. But look there — you see that? He seems to be favoring it, just a little."

At Choi Jae-woo's words, Park I-chan locked his gaze on Seorak's legs. The tiger was still tearing around the enclosure without rest.

"Hm. Now that you say it, I think I see it too. And he's giving his head a little shake now and then."

"Both places could be hurting."

Choi Jae-woo's eyes traveled from the legs up to the face — and met Seorak's.

A chill went through him. His shoulders drew in; his head wanted to drop of its own accord, just to get out from under that terrible stare. That was how savage Seorak looked.

And in that instant, Choi Jae-woo remembered a paper he had read a year and a half ago — a paper on the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first tiger in the world to undergo corneal surgery. The operation had been performed two years earlier, and the tiger was still alive and well.

He stared hard at Seorak's eyes.

"Ah. This guy's eyes are hurting."

Park I-chan and Keeper Ji both looked at Seorak in surprise and tried to see the eyes for themselves — but Seorak had already turned his gaze away and gone back to pacing, still growling.

Keeper Ji let out a thin sigh.

"We won't be able to examine him today, will we? We'll have to anesthetize him."

"That's right. We'll need to put him under for the exam, and if he needs surgery, we'll do that too."

Which was another way of saying that tonight was no time to attempt an examination and an operation all at once.

"I see. But what if it's only his eyes that hurt?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean — what if it's something that would clear up with eye drops? We can't put him under every single time we need to put drops in, can we?"

"No, we can't. And we can't keep the eye sewn shut until it heals, either."

With a corneal wound, they sometimes closed the eye for a set period. Sometimes they fitted a lens.

"True enough. Let's examine him first and think it through then."

"If only we'd gotten Seorak through the training a little sooner. Halla lets them check her eyes just fine…"

"I know."

"Then let's come back tomorrow."

Come back tomorrow, with everything ready for an exam. They left with nothing much accomplished.

"Thank you."

"Not at all. You're the one working hard, Keeper Ji."

The two veterinarians said their goodbyes and walked on. Their feet carried them, without discussion, toward their workplace — the zoo hospital.

The Seoul Zoo animal hospital sat close to the front gate. Nearby was the Species Conservation Research Lab, and the hospital was housed there.

When they arrived, Im Seo-han, the veterinarian on night duty, was sprawled bonelessly across the sofa.

"You're back?"

"Yeah. What's with you?"

"I was over at the monkey house."

"What, did they fight?"

"So you stitched someone up?"

Im Seo-han shook his head.

"No — looks like we'll need to operate tomorrow."

"Operate?"

"A fractured finger."

"How?"

"It got wedged in a gap. It's swollen huge. We'll operate once the swelling goes down."

"Aigoo, the poor thing. So you brought him in?"

"Yes. He's in the ward. I gave him an injection and put an e-collar on him. But why did you two come back?"

"Keeper Ji called."

"Ah — there was a call that came in. That was it, then."

"Must have been while you were with the monkey. Seorak's off."

"Why? Is he sick?"

"Looks that way. We'll know more after we examine him tomorrow."

"Oh — but, hyung."

"Mm."

"What if we tried calling Senior Jin Taemin? His instincts are incredible. He can look at an animal and name the disease on the spot."

"I was already thinking about that guy."

"He'll be busy, though, right?"

"Oh, he's busy. Extremely busy."

"But if it's a tiger, wouldn't he come?"

Choi Jae-woo dropped onto the sofa as if he'd been thrown there.

"He'd come for a monkey. Hell, he'd come for a bird. If we asked, he'd come running — day or night."

"So can we call him?"

"He's not in the country. Dubai, or India, something like that."

"Dubai and India aren't exactly next door. The way you talk about it…"

"That guy hops between them like they are. Anyway, he's not here."

"That's a shame. If he were, he'd take one look at Seorak and tell us exactly what was wrong."

"Well. I'd settle for Seorak just not being this worked up."

"That too — but I hope Keeper Ji is right, and it's only the eyes. Eyes aren't the kind of thing you treat once and you're done."

"Seorak's eyes hurt?"

"That's how it looked. He keeps squinting. They're a little swollen. And his feet look like they hurt too."

"He's eating less as well."

"Aigoo."

"Anyway. Tomorrow morning, Seorak comes first."

"Yes."

Morning at the zoo began a little early. Rounds started at eight-thirty, and that meant time was needed to prepare.

The smaller animals already in the hospital could be seen there, but most of the work was field medicine — going out to the enclosures at a keeper's request. Every drug and every instrument had to be packed without fail. The distance between the hospital and the animal houses was one reason. The other was temperament: zoo animals were not, as a rule, inclined to cooperate, and forgetting a single item was a disaster.

Four veterinarians appeared at Seorak's enclosure, led by Dr. Park Hyun-joon, head of the clinical husbandry team, and every one of them was tense.

Park Hyun-joon lifted the blowgun to his lips.

And then—

Whoosh.

The dart flew. A solid thunk, and the anesthetic lodged exactly where they wanted it.

"Hah. Thank God."

The relief lasted only a moment. As Seorak's strength slowly left him, the veterinarians moved fast, entering the enclosure and going over him at once.

"The cornea is swollen. We're going to need a more precise exam on this."

"The claws have grown in."

"The gums are swollen too."

Park Hyun-joon let out a long breath at his team's reports.

"It's everything at once."

"And he seems to be limping a little?"

"Nothing for it. We'll take radiographs, we'll scale the teeth — whatever we can do, we do it fast."

Speed was the highest virtue. Seorak was transferred to the animal hospital without delay.

The dental scaling was finished quickly, and the claws that had been growing into the flesh were cut away. They took radiographs. They drew blood. They examined the eyes.

"I'm telling you. If this guy would just listen, we could put the drops in and do the rehab and everything would be so much easier."

Seorak's eyes had uveitis — inflammation of the uvea, the collective name for the iris, the ciliary body, and the choroid. They guessed the iris had been scratched by a claw, or by a nearby tree, or by some feature of the terrain.

"Eyes hurting, legs hurting — no wonder he lost his appetite. No wonder he was furious."

It was not only the eyes. The joints showed signs of inflammation as well. All in all, he had every reason to be in a foul mood.

"Hah. This is a problem. How are we supposed to get eye drops into this guy?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"And we can't anesthetize him every time we need to put them in…"

"If we don't treat it, he'll go blind…"

"Even if Senior Jin had been here, this isn't something he could have solved."

Im Seo-han, who had wanted Jin Taemin the night before, let out a sigh.

"That's right. Dr. Jin couldn't fix this either. Dr. Lee, on the other hand…"

"Our Lee Jun might actually be able to…"

Park Hyun-joon's gaze met Park I-chan's in midair. And this time, too, they spoke at the same moment.

"That's it. Lee Jun. We have Dr. Lee Jun."

"Lee Jun might even be able to gentle Seorak!"

"He might, at that. Dr. Park — you're Lee Jun's classmate, aren't you? You have his number?"

"I do. Shall I call him?"

"Do it."