Hsing-Hsing Dies -- National Zoo's Panda Euthanized

WASHINGTON - Hsing-Hsing, the surviving male of a pair of giant pandas who had enchanted visitors to the National Zoo since 1972, was euthanized yesterday after keepers decided that his worsening kidney disease was making him suffer too much.

He and his mate, Ling-Ling, had been the zoo's best-known and best-loved animals since they arrived in Washington under armed guard as a gift from the Chinese government after President Nixon's historic visit to China.

People lined up to watch them frolic, listened avidly for news of their mating attempts, rejoiced when cubs were born, sent sympathy cards after each of their five offspring died, and mourned when Ling-Ling died of heart failure in 1992.

Hsing-Hsing was 28, the equivalent of more than 80 years in humans. By the time he died, zoo officials said, he barely recognized his keepers and had trouble moving or summoning energy to eat his favorite foods.

Zoo officials said Hsing-Hsing, whose terminal kidney disease was diagnosed in May, began declining markedly during the past week. Zoo administrators, veterinarians and keepers agreed Saturday to euthanize him but wanted to first offer him a last meal of the treats he liked best. The zoo's chief veterinarian, Lucy Spelman, gave the fatal injection yesterday about 7 a.m. in the Panda House.

"It became clear to us that we could not maintain his quality of life," Lisa Stevens, the associate curator of primates and pandas, who had cared for the animals for 13 years, said at a news conference. "Everything became an effort for him."

Giant pandas are extremely rare, and their cute black-and-white images have become international symbols for conservation. Hsing-Hsing's death leaves five giant pandas in U.S. zoos - a young pair on loan in Atlanta, and an adult pair, with a 3-month-old cub, on loan in San Diego.

The National Zoo has asked China for a long-term loan of a breeding pair of pandas, but negotiations have stalled over money: The zoo has offered $2.5 million over 10 years, and the Chinese have said they want at least $8 million.

The Friends of the National Zoo has begun a Giant Panda Conservation Fund with the goal of raising $250,000 a year for the next decade to help bring pandas back to the nation's capital.

Zoo veterinarians and pathologists spent most of yesterday performing a necropsy on the Hsing-Hsing. His skin and skeleton, like those of his mate, will be donated to the Museum of Natural History. His organs and tissue will be kept for further study.

Keepers, including Stevens, were visibly upset. Some visitors dabbed tears from their eyes as they learned the animal had died.

Sarah Gibson used to visit the Panda House often when she lived in the Washington area. Yesterday, making her first visit to the National Zoo in five years, she brought her 23-month-old daughter in hopes of showing her the fuzzy creature.

"There was something very - I don't know - touching about the panda story," said Gibson, 34, who now lives in Bloomfield, Conn. "I spent a lot of time walking through the exhibit and reading all the information. He was always just a favorite. He seemed like such a sweetheart."

Donna Neish, of Pittsburgh, gasped when she saw the sign announcing the panda's death. She and her husband, Larry, were in town for the holiday weekend and visited the zoo for the first time. Their young children, 7 and 4, had raced up the walkway to the Panda House.

She could not bring herself to tell her children. "Ah," she said, recovering from her shock. "How sad. The panda ran away."

Hsing-Hsing, whose name means "shining star," had been in failing health for several years. In 1997, both of his testicles were removed after one was discovered to be cancerous. He developed arthritis, which was controlled by medication hidden in his favorite treat - blueberry muffins from Starbucks. His eyesight was going. He had mysterious nosebleeds.

Over the past week, his keepers said, he seemed increasingly lethargic.

He did not want to go outside. He ate less and less, and afterward would lie down exhausted. Sometimes, he could not even get up when he urinated or defecated. His weight, taken just last week, was 249 pounds - down from his prime of 290.

Despite an iron shot on Tuesday, his gums were pale from anemia related to his kidney problems. Blood samples - collected from his nosebleeds - showed he was so ill and anemic that flushing his kidneys wouldn't help him feel better.

With zoo director Michael Robinson in London, keepers and veterinarians alerted deputy director McKinley Hudson. He said he looked in on Hsing-Hsing on Friday and saw the animal take only a few steps before having to lie down.

Though zoo officials decided Saturday to euthanize Hsing-Hsing, they decided to wait until yesterday morning, in part to give their furry charge one last good night. He usually had the most energy during the afternoons and evenings. They made up a last meal of his favorite foods: baked yams, bamboo, rice gruel and "the biggest blueberry muffin we could find," Stevens said.

"We feel immense sadness," Stevens said, "and at the same time immense emptiness - as empty as the Panda House is now."