Taxidermists at Dubai’s Central Veterinary Research Laboratory preserve animals long after their death for the future generations to learn about them and the dos and don’ts while keeping pets
In one paradoxical corner of Dubai, a sloth sits side by side a baby gazelle, while a python coils itself around a tree nearby, and a bottlenose dolphin floats overhead.
Far from Noah’s Ark, the colourful boardroom of Dubai’s Central Veterinary Research Laboratory is home to these rare and wonderful beasts from around the world; but as lifelike as they appear, they are — to use an outdated term — well and truly stuffed.
All these things, bright and beautiful, have been so attentively and lovingly preserved by CVRL’s small team of dedicated taxidermists, it’s difficult to believe the lioness I encounter in the reception isn’t going to have me for breakfast.
The CVRL boardroom, with the skeleton of a bottlenose dolphin suspended overhead. - KT photos by Amanda Fisher
The sensation of walking past these animal husks, most of them formerly beloved pets of the rich and famous, is much like catching the dead gaze of a shop window mannequin. Sure, it’s inanimate, but — call me crazy – did it just turn its head? Attention to detail is everything, according to taxidermist Andre Appelt.
How did the lioness come to be sat in the foyer?, I ask the talented Appelt.
“(The owner) liked her very much, so he wanted her back,” he says wryly, ignoring — deliberately or otherwise — the real meaning of my question.
Apparently the ferocious beauty, who after three months’ work is waiting to be picked up in exchange for Dh40,000, died during surgery to fix a pregnancy complication.
“There are huge collections in the UAE,” Appelt tells me as we walk past the sloth, posing in a tree next to a dramatically turned-out black-crown crane, whose coiffeured appearance suggests he is ready for the ball.
“(And) the animals are quite rare.”
Scientific pursuit
Make no mistakes, this job isn’t just about turning pets into stuffed toys.
Appelt says the taxidermists collect samples from all animals, in the name of genetic research. Not much has been done yet, but there is potential, he says, while they also share samples with other scientific bodies.
The sloth, a fixture of the South American jungle, is a long way from home, another former pet of a high-profile Emirati.
The taxidermists can always tell if the animals have been treated well, Appelt says.
“The animal has to be in good shape, otherwise we cannot get a good outcome.”
Upon arrival, expired animals get sent for a post mortem.
“When our pathologist finds out something interesting… we take it and put it on display, to educate.”
As we walk around the boardroom, Appelt picks up the skull of a camel in serious need of orthodontic work.
“This poor thing was in a really bad condition because no one took care of it.”
The camel’s teeth were not ground down by the owner, necessary to maintain dental comfort. “It’s standard practice with horses but no one really does it with camels and then they just starve to death because it’s too painful to eat.”
Such exhibits are brought out at events like animal conferences. Education is something lacking in the region, “especially when it comes to the Bedouins, they are stuck in their old, traditional methods, they are not so open to Western medicine”.
A baby gazelle, now ready to be reunited with its owner, also died before its time.
The husky dog which has been kept more realistic through a forgotten taxidermy technique.
“It was hand-nursed and got salmonella because the bottle was not cleaned. It happens quite fast in this country. With an animal this small, there’s not much you can do, they dehydrate so fast.”
A captivating husky dog peers at me. This is one Appelt is particularly proud of.
“We used a special procedure to keep it so realistic.”
This animal has all its cartilage intact, which keeps the tissue soft. The method, invented in the 19th century, was long forgotten, but CVRL is helping drive a comeback.
This kind of preservation, while sensitive to light and humidity, is best for showing children a realistic specimen — or “for owners who like to pat (the animals) after death”.
But the husky is also a sore spot for Appelt, who wishes people would stop buying animals not built for the harsh Dubai sun.
“JBR is full of huskies… it’s not good to keep an arctic animal in the desert.”
Other animals with short noses, such as pug dogs and Persian cats, find it difficult to breathe in the heat.
Animal conservation
Nearby, the carpet python, donated by its owner, stretches more than two metres. The spare serpent, now just bones, sits above the distorted skull of an unfortunate Nile crocodile.
This unfortunate customer, raised in a zoo, contracted the bone-warping deformity Rickets as a result of a poor diet — probably of nutrient-poor chicken, rather than the gazelles and cows it would have dined on in the wild.
“Sometimes we go on exhibitions to educate school classes, people, Emiratis about what they can do, what they shouldn’t do, how to save (animals).”
Often these exhibitions, which happen not more than once a year, are opened by the Minister of the Environment — “we have the attention of the government”.
“The basic idea why I’m doing taxidermy (is to educate about conservation), but in a museum or facility you can do way more than an institute.”
However, these things are few and far between in the UAE. Recently, a Sharjah museum damaged beyond use a dolphin and green sea turtle skeleton, commissioned from CVRL for educational purposes.
“It was a sad story in the end. We gave them the models and they handled it awfully, so it’s all destroyed now,” Appelt says, still visibly upset about the fate.
What’s in a name?
So does this make the taxidermists scientists? Artists? Conservationists?
Appelt’s colleague and fellow German Corina Berners says she feels more of a scientist, given that is her interest. “I’m not an artist in my private life, I don’t paint or make my own jewellery.”
Appelt, who does more of the crafting, is different. “It’s the combination of biology and art. It’s the best job ever, it’s got everything.”
But one thing they are not are “animal-stuffers”, the loose translation of “taxidermist” in German.
“If anybody would call us this, it would be an insult… because it’s not what we do,” Berners says.
Even ‘taxidermy’ is outmoded.
“It’s a little old-fashioned. Taxidermy is to do primarily with skin,” she says.
And there is very good reason they take this skinning, gutting, sewing and priming so seriously.
“We’re trained museum taxidermists… after hundreds of years, a model still has to be scientifically correct to be of scientific value.”
While species were sadly lost during the age of exploration, when hunters made trophies of the heads of exotic animals, “now at least they have some of these animals in the museum collections and other people can learn”.
“We never know where our animals may end up,” Berners says.
If not for the noble pursuit of preservation, dozens of extinct species would be obscure today. Now not only is the original animal still around but so is its genetic material — information that could prove invaluable in the future.
Unfortunately, as most of CVRL’s work goes in to private collections, it is down to the grace of individual owners to share them with the world, which increasingly more in the UAE are doing, apparently, opening their homes to professionals and school pupils.
The backdrop for this conversation is the taxidermy engine room. We are surrounded by works in progress; mannequins stand idle, while an assistant paints a lion’s lips to give it back some colour. However, it is a giant camel, Sugahan, who is most imposing.
“It won the beauty contest some years ago and (the owners) even got it cloned,” Berners says. But this big beauty, which could cost up to Dh400,000 when finally finished, is stubborn.
“We have been working on this for half a year now,” she says.
The prize camel Sugahan at CVRL and a taxidermy assistant works on recreating a lion’s facial colouring.
They brought in a dromedary camel mannequin from the Netherlands, but it was so wrong it had to be taken apart and put back together.
CVRL has become the taxidermy outlet of choice — even if it is almost Hobson’s.
“There are not many taxidermists in the country, so…we are booked for the next three years,” Appelt says. He estimates there are only another two taxidermists working in the UAE, outside CVRL.
They have a walk-in freezer that is set to minus 20 degrees — “it’s completely full”.
So in this exotic animal haven, what is the strangest animal they have ever stuffed? The fictional-sounding camel-llama, Appelt tells me, apparently also known as a ‘cama’.
“It was the first lama crossbreed 16 years ago from our own CVRL cell reproduction centre.”
The infertile ‘cama’, bred to produce more meat, lived to the ripe age of 14. “It was a dead-end, but they did 5 or 6 (camas).”
In another area of CVRL there is an incinerator, and next to that a crane on which to hang the big animals – camels, giraffes, for example – as they are being skinned.
This is behind the scenes where the masters turn their craft. It may be just a short walk from the CVRL boardroom to the crowded freezer, but — like Noah on his Ark — there are many months of labour in between.
— amanda@khaleejtimes.com