The loss of Buttercup, the Center’s education Black Vulture, was hard on all of the Wildlife Center’s family – many staff members, students, volunteers, and supporters had been very enamored with Buttercup. We’re happy to share these remembrances of Buttercup from some of the Wildlife Center’s staff and volunteers that knew him throughout the years:
Lacy Kegley, Vice President of Administration: Buttercup was a big personality. No one who ever met him would say otherwise. While I witnessed special moments between Buttercup and donors and tour groups, it was the times that it was just him and me that will stay in my memory forever. Never did I ever imagine that I would be so flattered when a vulture danced for me! But flattered I was, because Buttercup had a way of making people feel special and connected. He looked into our souls with his piercing eyes and opened our hearts.
Goodbye, sweet Mr. Cup.
Marley Crawford, Development Associate: Even the gloomiest of days changed for the better after a visit with Buttercup. Back when I was a rehab extern with no wildlife experience, Buttercup was a wonder to me. He was one of the few ambassadors that lacked a certain hesitation and caution around newbies like me. A few rat meals later, Buttercup and I were well acquainted, whether he was pecking at the polka dots of my rain boots or following me around his enclosure as I picked up scraps from the day before. Even after my externship ended and I became permanent staff, on days I needed a break from the computer or perhaps just a smile, I made my way out to visit him. I will truly miss his quirks and curious personality. Who would have thought we’d end this year with vulture-sized holes in our hearts? Buttercup, you are irreplaceable and surely unforgettable … farewell my friend.
Raina DeFonza, former Outreach Coordinator: I wasn’t prepared for this unexpected loss, but so much of my relationship with Buttercup was unexpected. I didn’t expect a vulture could bring me so much joy. I didn’t expect to love his little bald head or his starry eyes. I didn’t expect to witness so many other people fall in love with him, too, and change their opinions about a whole species because of one little bird. Buttercup has been a wholly unexpected gift in my life and the lives of so many others.
There are many stories about Buttercup that I want to share. The time he threw up on a bunch of kids, the time he sweetly fell asleep leaning against my leg, the time he didn’t touch the new perch in his enclosure for a month because he just really, really didn’t like new things … I don’t know how many shared stories would feel like an adequate attempt to memorialize him. But I believe that Buttercup’s true legacy is with every person who met him – even briefly – and fell in love, and the difference that love has made for countless other “less-lovable” wildlife in our world.
Shannon Mazurowski, Wildlife Rehabilitator: Buttercup was the first vulture I have ever worked with. I met him when I started as a rehab extern in 2017, and was told by many that he put most externs through a trial period initially — and he sure did. In the beginning, when I would enter his enclosure, he would wait until I just slightly turned my back to come over and bite my ankles. Then when I would leave his enclosure I would have to walk backward to anticipate him chasing me out the door. Overall, he did his best to show me who’s boss.
I am very fond of the underdog species. The ones that most people think are “ugly” or “gross” and so I was determined to become Buttercup’s friend. Over the time of my externship and internship, I was able to gain his trust and what was ankle-biting became soft nibbles and playful tugs on my gloves. Being assigned to feeding education raptors became one of my favorite tasks because it meant spending just a little extra time with Buttercup.
When I was hired full-time as a rehabilitator, my schedule changed and I no longer worked with him regularly. I would often stop and say hello outside of his enclosure and he would occasionally do his mating dance or walk up and down his perch in his usual engaging, charismatic fashion. But recently, Lauren (outreach educator/my roommate/Buttercup’s primary trainer) asked if I could help her out with some training sessions with Buttercup. Of course, I said yes immediately and tried to quell the giddiness of seeing and interacting with Buttercup regularly again. I will forever be grateful for that opportunity as it ended up being the highlight of my weeks and allowed me to reconnect with an old friend. I loved watching him run up and down the hall behind his enclosure, so curious about everything, nibbling leaves on the ground and occasionally jumping at small things like a sheet blowing in the wind or an acorn hitting the roof. He was the most charming, quirky bird and I could’ve stayed all day watching him engage with the world.
Buttercup impacted so many peoples’ lives and we will forever appreciate his time with us.
Goodbye Buttercup, and thank you for everything.
Dana Lusher, Nature’s Nanny Wildlife Rehabilitation, former rehabilitation apprentice at the Center: Buttercup was the first vulture who I ever loved!! The countless others I have worked with reaped that blessing. To know one is to love one, but it is not often that one gets the opportunity to really know a vulture.
When Linda Vetter and I would come weekly to WCV, we were afforded joyful time hanging out with Buttercup. He looked forward to our visits. I could tell. I would sit in the entrance to his enclosure and he would hang out with me. Playing with my shoes, tugging at the cuff of my pants. He would investigate my hands … looking for food, I know, but still trusting me. Such a fun little guy!!! He played on his stairs and would, on occasion, spread his wings and dance with me.
Linda made up a song about him and sometimes I would sing it too. He would perk up and enjoy the heck out of it … well, her singing … I think mine offended him.
The world was a much better place with Buttercup in it. Wildlife, in general, is better off from the lessons he taught us.
Randy Huwa, Executive Vice President: I learned of Buttercup’s passing in an email from Amanda. When I shared the tragic news with my wife Jackie, she asked Buttercup’s age. I started figuring aloud … well, let’s see, Buttercup was there when I started working at the Center, and that was 2005 and…
Of course, that memory is incorrect. Buttercup came to the Center in 2011 – six years after I started. But he was such an important part of my time at the Center that I just thought that he had always been there.
As a young vulture, Buttercup imprinted on his human caregivers. And, as “All About Birds”, the incredibly useful online tool of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, notes, Black Vultures are “[h]ighly social birds with fierce family loyalty … [they] share food with relatives, feeding young for months after they’ve fledged.”
In my experience, Buttercup was clearly the most social of all of the Wildlife Center ambassadors. He seemed genuinely interested in interacting with human visitors; he would often hop down right to the front of his enclosure to be as close as possible to me.
I loved talking about Buttercup to Center visitors. There was the “surprise” factor – this charming, charismatic, neat-as-a-pin bird is a vulture [or, more typically, a buzzard]? I loved talking about the lifestyle of the Black Vulture. Compared to the Turkey Vulture, it seems like the Black Vulture is #2. Black Vultures are smaller; they’re not quite as graceful; it always seems that they have to “flap” just a few more times to get airborne; it’s not quite as easy for them to find food. It’s like the advertising campaign that car-rental company Avis ran for a half-century … we try harder.
I’m sure that there were some things that I said about Buttercup that weren’t quite right. He never corrected me.
Now, there was this one Center visitor who came, year after year, and seemed to always end up in my tour. Whenever the group came to Buttercup’s enclosure, she would regale the group with a story, from her youth, about watching a Black Vulture grabbing a lamb and carrying it off. I tried, with gentleness, to encourage everyone to look at Buttercup’s feet and to recognize that those feet weren’t built for grasping prey – setting aside the aerodynamic difficulties of a four-pound bird carrying off an eight-pound lamb. Buttercup taught me restraint; he kept me from shouting out, "Look, I don’t know what kind of crazy memory you’re recounting here, but I seriously doubt that you saw anything carrying off a lamb, and I’m seriously sure that there was no Black Vulture involved.”
Now, the story has circulated in the Critter Cam Moderated Discussion that I was one of Buttercup’s favorite people. That’s not true. I never fed Buttercup; I never tended to him; I never worked with him. Those lucky people are the ones who were Buttercup’s favorites. But … truth be told … he was MY favorite. Sometimes, when things weren’t going particularly well, or if I had failed to do what I should have done, or if the day was just a little tough, I’d go back to chat with my friend Buttercup. He never offered any sage advice – never had any particular words of wisdom. But sometimes it’s good just to have someone to listen … and someone to remind you that this, too, will pass.
So, thank you, Mr. Cup!
Amanda Nicholson, Director of Outreach: I remember in 2011, when my contact at Maymont was looking to place Buttercup. He said something to the effect of, "Do you guys want a human-imprinted Black Vulture named Buttercup?" My response was, "Well, how can I say no to that?" I often shared that story of how Buttercup came to be at the Wildlife Center when I would give tours — because, honestly, when you met Buttercup face-to-face and saw him greet a crowd — how could you say no to that?
I was never Buttercup’s primary trainer or caregiver in his time with us at the Center. I enjoyed seeing him every day, and at different times I’d stop and chat with him outside of his enclosure. But, for me, the joy of having him with us was watching other people fall in love with him.
When I think of Buttercup, I think of those connections. Of former outreach coordinator Raina taking him to Riverfest, where a crowd of Buttercup fans were in attendance, all wearing their "Keep Calm and Carrion" wear. Of people from all 50 states in the U.S., and many other countries around the world, wanting to spread the love of Buttercup in that carrion-wear during our Buttercup Summer Vacation challenge. Of a group of artists, diligently painting Buttercup in an art class at the Center — deeply appreciating every feather and wrinkled little skin fold on his head. Of former rehab intern Jordan, on his final day of work, sitting with Buttercup on his lap as they said their goodbyes. Of countless open houses where Buttercup greeted admirers and won hearts of vulture skeptics.
We lost Buttercup too soon — but I’m grateful for the connections that he helped us make. One small black vulture, with a huge personality, connecting thousands of people around the world.
Lauren Edzenga, Outreach Educator: I met Buttercup when I was an outreach student in 2017. Former outreach coordinator Raina was showing me the ambassador birds, and when we got to Buttercup, he was up at the front of his enclosure in all his glory. I have a thing for the lesser-loved species (think vultures, opossums, spiders, creepy crawlies, snakes …) and vultures might be at the top of that list. I remember thinking, “Don’t blurt this out, Lauren, but OMG CAN I WORK WITH HIM??”
During my time as a student, I would swing by his enclosure while working with his neighbor Grayson, and I was always so drawn to how interactive he was. I’d let him nibble my fingers through his door, pass him leaves and sticks, and just generally enjoy talking to him and watching him run around. When I transitioned to a rehabilitation externship later that year, our relationship changed. Now that I was dropping off food, Buttercup was prone to biting my ankles and casually terrorizing me in his enclosure – but he was still lovely when I was outside his door. When I left the Center, I had a little picture of him that came back with me to New Jersey and lived in my room at home.
When I came back to the Center as the Outreach Educator in 2019, I hadn’t forgotten Buttercup. In fact, I was really excited that maybe I’d get to work closely with him. He was still my favorite little vulture, and I loved his goofy personality. When I began working with Buttercup on the glove, I immediately realized how much this bird brought me joy every time I worked with him. When the pandemic hit and the outreach team began working from home and going to the Center once a day to work with birds, I transitioned to being Buttercup’s primary trainer. We worked on stepping up on my glove, being gentle when taking bits from my hand, did some touch work where I’d touch his legs or wing or head, and reward him with a nibble of food for his patience. During the spring, he’d routinely do his mating dance for me (which is the highest honor I’ve ever received). He was also the star of almost all of my private Virtual Programs. He’d run around the hallway vocalizing, checking out the accessories that are stored behind the enclosures, smashing his chest into the gravel to make a scrape, looking out the crack of the door, dancing for me … and classes LOVED him. I mean, how could they not?
In the first couple of months, the pandemic really got to me. I’m an extrovert and working from home by myself was quite the transition. As my mental state was strained, I changed my habit of thinking of things I had lost due to COVID, and instead tried to focus on what things it brought; I get to work next to my sleeping dog all day, I can cook lunch and make tea in my own kitchen, and every day I get to see Buttercup. Buttercup was the reason I was excited to greet the day each morning. Sometimes we’d work on crate training or wearing equipment, but sometimes his attention was short and so we would just enjoy each other’s company in the hallway behind his enclosure. Buttercup brought me happiness every day. How lucky am I to have spent one-on-one time with this sweet, goofy guy? To have been someone he was fond of? He is one of those animals that have impacted me forever.
When Amanda called me to tell me that he had passed, I was struck with grief. I realized exactly then how much he truly meant to me. And if I’m being honest, it took me by surprise just how upset I was that he had left this Earth. All of the ambassadors become a part of our departmental family, and some special ones become part of our personal family. Buttercup was part of my family. While ambassadors are certainly not pets, and I could go on and on about how they’d never make happy, healthy pets (thank the educator in me), they’re just as special and treasured and hold the same weight in my heart as my own fur children. Ambassadors are wild animals. Wild animals naturally do not appreciate humans. But ambassadors agree to share space with us. They’re there through the emotional programs telling their stories and represent their wild counterparts. They sacrifice their freedom and wild attitude to do a job with us – a very important job, I might add. They change people’s minds about their species, help people realize that some habits are harmful to wildlife, and are in general, the unsung heroes of the environmental education world. Sure, I could do my job without them, but would I make as big of an impact? I surely don’t think so.
In remembering Buttercup, we remember our personal interactions with him that nestled him in our hearts, but it’s important to remember how much he meant to the masses. He is honored every single time someone makes a good decision because they met him. Buttercup taught people that beauty does not dictate importance, and that being kind to others that may be different from us is important. I will deeply miss Buttercup, but I’m comforted that his life was so impactful to so many people, and that because of him, the world is a better place.
