Oregon Sanctuary Lets Tigers Be Tigers

EAGLE POINT, Ore. - Don't be fooled by the baby bottle, or by the huge pink tongue lapping the nipple of the bottle Penny Torres Rubin strains to hold.

Focus instead on the three-inch fangs of Kali, a Siberian tiger weighing nearly 400 pounds, whose intense glare would startle William Blake in the forest of the night.

"This tiger could kill you very easily," cautions Torres Rubin, who started the Oregon TIger Sanctuary in 1991. "These are pure predators. God gives them that natural instinct to kill."

Kali is one of seven large tigers in the private preserve, along with two cougars, two snow leopards and 10 primates. The nonprofit sanctuary is an 80-acre private parcel on a picturesque bench on the west slope of the Cascade Range in the Rogue River National Forest.

The sanctuary has been a low-profile project by the high-profile Torres Rubin. She is known nationally for her meditation seminars and as the New Age channeler of Mafu, an ancient enlightened being who supposedly walked the earth when Pompeii prospered.

The sanctuary's mission is to help stop the abuse of exotic animals and educate humans about that mistreatment, she explains.

"I want to make sure exotic animals are treated right and retired appropriately," she says. "I want people to see the truth, that these animals aren't toys. These are big, wild animals that deserve a good life."

They are receiving it at the center, observes Andy Goldfarb, 33, head tiger trainer at Marine World Africa, USA in Vallejo, Calif. Torres Rubin turned to him for advice when she started the sanctuary's "Tiger Island."

"Penny called me after she saw this tiger living in a 6-by-6 cage," he recalls of a tiger now at the center. "She told me what she wanted to do. I gave her my usual spiel about being against private ownership. But she made it clear she didn't want a tiger just to be cool. She wanted to help them."

Since then, Marine World has placed two tigers at the center.

"She has the resources to give these animals unbelievable homes," he says.

Indeed, Tiger Island alone is a $110,000-plus facility with a heated swimming pool.

"But she doesn't treat them like pets," he says. "She treats them like they should be treated, as dangerous, wild animals."

As evidence of their wild ways, Torres Rubin, an energetic woman who pumps iron to keep in shape, tells of concussions and scratches suffered while working with the animals.

"I've learned that a tiger's paw can take a 5-foot-6-inch girl down to the ground," she says as she pokes a furry forearm. "These are Muhammad Ali arms here."

Kali emits a rumble, sounding like a bulldozer engine muffled slightly by orange and white fur.

Not to worry. He's only "chuffing," a friendly purr-growl made by tigers, Torres Rubin says.

"If this animal was in a different mood, I wouldn't be out here," she says.

To keep the cats contained when they are in an aggressive mood, safeguards exceed U.S. Department of Agriculture standards. Each enclosure is surrounded by a 14-foot-high chain-link fence with a 3-foot overhang. As an added safeguard, the bottom of the heavy-gauge fence is buried two feet into the ground.

One frequent visitor is Kathi Travers, 46, director of exotic animals and animal transportation for the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Travers travels the nation in her work with abused animals.

"I applaud what they are doing here," Travers says. "These animals eat better than most people. This is a paradise for animals."

The center spends $202 a month to feed each big cat a zoo-formulated diet of ground horse meat, says compound manager Leslie Scott-Rose. A slab of horse meat and chicken is also thrown in, she says.

When Travers first heard about the sanctuary from a veterinarian friend, she was a little dubious.

"It was totally different than anything I had ever seen," she says. "I can count on my right hand how many places there are like this."