In early 2007, animal lovers the world over became captivated by the story of Knut, a polar bear cub born at the Berlin Zoo. The snow white, teddy-bear-come-alive was an instant attraction, but it was his unique circumstance that brought him unusual international attention, and massive controversy. One of 2 cubs born to 20-year-old circus refugee Tosca on December 5th, 2006, Knut and his brother were rejected by their mother at birth - a fate virtually no newborn bear in the wild could survive. Both babies were collected from their exhibit using an extended fishing net and hurried to veterinary care... only Knut survived, and it would be 44 days before he was released from an incubator.
Being born into captivity has it's life-saving perks, and with the dedicated efforts of zookeepers, little Knut was nurtured into polar bear childhood, but not without raising the hackles of animal rights activists - their argument: that the orphan should have been allowed to die - or be euthanized - in order to avoid an unnatural upbringing. Surely no animal born in captivity and confined to life in a zoo could have an entirely "natural" upbringing, but Knut, without the care of his mum, would imprint on his human caretakers and could possibly suffer psychological illness as he matured without the benefit of ever learning how to really be a bear. The campaign to end Knut's life was swiftly met with an outpouring of opposition, including protests by schoolchildren and letters to the zoo from around the globe, and quite predictably, Knut's life was not only spared but celebrated on a grand scale... And so began one of the greatest commercial successes of any captive animal in history.
Over the course of Knut's first year, the Berlin Zoo's attendance jumped 30%, and 2007 became the most profitable in all of the zoo's 163-year history. Merchandise extended beyond the gates of the park as themed plush toys, books, candy, and songs about the cub's cuteness rippled out to reach global consumers. In May the little bear got his own German Vanity Fair cover, shot by Annie Leibovitz (though he had to share the spotlight for the American version of the "Green Issue" with Leonardo DiCaprio). Nationally minted commemorative coins marked his first birthday, tabloids followed his foibles and diet troubles, and even after outgrowing his pint-sized button nose for the awkward proportions and yellow-tinged fur of an adolescent, Knut's celebrity status was unquestionable - he was a star.
Below: Annie Leibovitz's German Vanity Fair cover featuring the one and only Knut; Knut gracing a stamp in support of environmental awareness; Knut as imagined by the esteemed plush label, Steiff; and Knut in repose, photographed by John MacDougall/AFP/Getty Images.
While it took many zoo staff to make Knut's survival and vibrant infancy a success, there was one zookeeper in particular who was assigned the role of surrogate papa-bear: hand-feeding, bathing, and playing with the cub nearly round the clock, and bedding down on a mattress next to Knut's crate each night (not to mention lulling Knut off to sleep strumming Elvis songs on his guitar). The keeper, Thomas Dörflein - a Berlin Zoo veteran of 26 years - also accompanied the cub out on exhibit each day, which earned him a supporting role in many of the photographs and videos taken during Knut's young months; his constant care in the service of the rising baby star at one point awarded him Berlin's Medal of Merit in recognition. Dörflein and Knut were indeed a seemingly inseparable pair, though inevitably, the cuddly cub grew into a sizable adolescent, and after 18 months of daily interaction, with Knut weighing nearly 300 pounds, the man-bear relationship was deemed too dangerous by the zoo, and Dörflein was banned from further contact with his charge. Tragically, in September 2008, mere months after the zoo's decision, Thomas Dörflein, only 44, died of a heart attack.
Despite the indelible image of that perfect puffball of a babe, it would appear that ever since Knut's passage through the limelight of his infancy, headline after headline has plagued the poor bear, in that most cutting way reserved only for entertainment's brightest stars; from law suits over his earnings, to warnings of psychotic, attention-crazed behavior; from the untimely death of his beloved keeper, to a call for castration from PETA; even possible "eviction" from his Berlin Zoo home in late 2008, as the economy plummeted and money for his care ran thin. And though scandal couldn't rob him the crown of Berlin's prized mascot, on March 19th, 2011, dearest Knut succumbed to the weight of a life lived racked by fame. Last Saturday, as hundreds of zoo visitors looked on, the 4 year old bear paced, trembled, then fell inexplicably dead into the pool in his exhibit. Results of a necropsy are awaited to confirm exact cause of death, but for critics of Knut's exploited life, the news was bittersweet - closure to a tale as rich with suffering and opportunistic greed as it was full of adoration and shared joy. For everyone else, grief over this magnificent animal lost is, as it should be, heavy, but may it also be a catalyst for a deeper understanding of nature, nurturing, and compassion, as they exist between the ever intersecting lives of humans and animals.
The illustration below was done from a photograph by Sean Gallup/Getty Images of 3 month old Knut and his beloved zookeeper, Thomas Dörflein.