Intense Russian airstrikes have killed dozens and injured many in Kiev and other Ukrainian cities over the past two weeks. The increasing attacks, coupled with doubts about future US support, have raised concern across the country that this winter will be particularly violent. Humans are not the only ones at risk.
Wildlife specialists are urgently searching for new homes outside Ukraine for Leona and other large animals, who are so vulnerable because they cannot easily take shelter when air raid sirens sound. Kiev's main zoo, which has taken in more than 500 animals – many evacuated from front-line areas – since the Russian invasion in February 2022, has no room left.
But in the days after Yuna suffered a concussion, no zoos in Europe responded to her requests for help, said Natalia Popova, 50, director of the Wildlife Rescue Center, a rehabilitation facility where the lioness has lived since Popova removed her from an abusive setting. The situation in a private house near Kiev last year.
Popova said any new home for Yuna would have to be accessible by road. Drugging a lioness for airlift after suffering a concussion could kill her. So is keeping it where it is now, on the outskirts of Kiev, where more Russian attacks are likely to occur every day.
“Honestly, I don’t think she would survive another explosion,” Popova said. “For her, it's a matter of life and death.”
Popova met Yuna last year after learning that a wealthy family had moved away and left two baby lions in a small enclosure on their property. The family's employees were tasked with feeding the animals, but they often gave them only spoiled meat. Both lions' paws were frostbitten. The animals were thin and sick. Yuna, who was bullied in a small cage by her brother Atlas, was also emotionally traumatized.
Popova transported the lions to her modest rescue facility outside Kiev, which is supposed to be a pit stop for injured or displaced animals before they get new homes in zoos or reserves. Due to limited space, some of the animals – including several lions and a white tiger – live in a converted horse stable. Others, like Yuna, reside in separate places outside and above ground.
For several months, as Popova looked for ways to take Yuna abroad, she visited the lioness 10 to 15 times a day, slowly gaining her trust. With a new diet and new medications, Yuna's fur and energy levels have improved. Recently, she began eating from Popova's hand. Popova had hoped to soon be able to move her to a zoo in Europe, like three other lions – including Atlas – who are due to move to France this month.
The missile was then dropped on top of Yuna's hangar, sending a shockwave in her direction. The other animals, which were somewhat protected by the brick stable walls, showed initial signs of stress but were unharmed. However, Yuna was in worse condition than when she first arrived last year.
“Everything we did for Yuna is gone,” Popova said. “We will need another year to get back to where we are.”
She added that the attack made her feel like there was “no way out” of the war.
Popova, a wildlife rehabilitation expert, has rescued more than 1,000 animals in Ukraine since the invasion, even traveling to the front line to retrieve them. Some were released back into the wild, others were transported abroad. But every time a place opens up, Popova says, another animal moves in.
Her facility now houses animals rescued from owners across the country. A 4-year-old female tiger was concussed in her enclosure last year when she crashed into a wall after a nearby explosion. Another lion arrives with concussion symptoms similar to what Yuna is suffering from. The dog being treated by Popova was hit in the head by shrapnel. In the early days of the invasion, the roe deer she was caring for died trying to escape a strike. About 30 other animals suffered concussions and broken legs.
Unlike the Kyiv Zoo, which adapted to wartime conditions by converting more of its indoor and underground spaces into living areas for larger animals, its rescue center does not have the resources to build shelters. Over the past week, in response to Yuna's injury, construction workers began building new pens inside the stable – a temporary solution to move the lioness and others indoors.
In the long term, no one knows where the animals will go. On the front line, soldiers often care for dogs and cats left behind by fleeing residents. Volunteers often distribute food and medicine. But they call Popova to retrieve any larger animals they find, such as bears or lions.
Kyrilo Trantin, director of the Kiev Zoo, said partner international zoos that accepted large animals from Ukraine earlier in the war “simply do not have the capacity to accept … anymore.” “It's a big problem we're facing right now.”
Two months ago, Tranten accepted four services that Popova had postponed from a private home in the frontline town of Kurakhov in the eastern Donetsk region. Two others have already died in the bombing. The cats, now safe in Kiev, are still showing signs of extreme stress, including excessive pacing. They suffer from malnutrition for a long time, and they slowly die Their fur grows back.
The zoo also received two lemurs rescued from the southern city of Kherson, where they were on display in a bombed mall. One of them suffered a severe concussion. They were separated for several months, ended up in Kiev, and were so happy to see each other again that they hugged and talked during their reunion, said Anna Vdovichenko, 28, head of the wildlife department at the Kiev Zoo.
Vdovichenko also cares for a lion transported from Kharkiv, and a tiger rescued last year when it was just 45 days old from an apartment in Kiev – a sign to her that despite the war, exploitative traders are still selling wild animals in dangerous conditions.
“Obviously, human lives are important, but these animals all depend on us,” Vdovichenko said. “They did not choose to live in wartime Ukraine.”
For several days after Yuna's injury, Popova monitored her via a security camera to avoid overwhelming her with visits. Unable to sedate Yuna, veterinarian Vasiljevska administered the medication by throwing syringes at her from afar. Slowly, Yuna gained some strength. She's still unsteady on her feet, but in recent days, she's eaten her first bites of meat and started whimpering.
They hope to have it ready to travel within three to four weeks. The only remaining question is who might be willing to take it.
“I deal with the consequences of human activities,” Popova said. “Wild animals are our future and our ecosystem.”
“This is my mission in this war,” she said while saving these animals.
