“Where did you get that bite from?”

“From the marbled polecat”

“Oh, you have such interesting animals biting you. Was this somewhere in the tropics?”

“No, in Ukraine”

While waiting for the shot of a rabies vaccine in the hallway of the Kharkiv emergency room, zoologist Volodymyr Yarotskyy tried to explain to people what kind of animal had bitten him. No one there had ever heard of such a beast.

What is the marbled polecat? It is a small but mighty creature. This carnivorous animal is similar to a European polecat, but it has its own peculiarities. It has long claws, strong muscles, and can scream loudly.

Returning the marbled polecat into the wild was an adventure in itself for Volodymyr Yarotskyy. Continue reading to find out how it went. You will also find out what the marbled polecat can do and what helps and restricts its reemergence in the Ukrainian steppes.

Face to face with a beast

Volodymyr shares, “In the summer of 2020, I was leading a tour to the Homilsha Woods National Nature Park [in the Kharkiv region]. And that’s when my colleagues called me and said that they had caught a marbled polecat at the biological station of the V. N. Karazin Kharkiv National University in Haidary is a village in the Kharkiv region.Haidary. We went there to have a look at the animal. It was in poor shape, and it bit me. I knew how to properly hold a ferret, just under its front paws. Then it can’t bite. In a marbled polecat, however, the tilt of the head is sufficient to bite your finger. The Mustelidae family, similarly to pit bulls, has the unique ability to bite through the flesh. Even though I was wearing welder’s gloves, the marbled polecat bit through them. It was my first encounter with an animal.”

The marbled polecat is a member of the Mustelidae family (aka mustelids), which includes animals that are both strong and plastic. Thus, it is related to the European ferret, marten, badger, otter, and skunk. And it has even more certain similarities to the skunk, but more on that later.

The animal’s Latin name, Vormela peregusna, comes from the Ukrainian language! The term peregusna is derived from perehuznya (перегyзня), which means “polecat” in Ukrainian. Vormela means “little worm”. Its body is very long and graceful, similar to that of a ferret or a weasel.

The species is known as the marbled polecat because of its color. The part pole, which means “chicken,” suggests that the animal is capable of stealing poultry. Yes, it did get caught doing this.

Marbled polecats prefer solitude. They spend time together only during the mating season.

In the article, Ukrainian zoologists refer to marbled polecats as the “occupied fauna”, i.e., animals that are not monitored by Ukrainian scientists. The scientific establishments, where the animal was safeguarded, are currently occupied, and the animal often shows up where there is active fighting.

Animals frequently play dead in the face of danger, a phenomenon known as apparent death. The most likely explanation is that predators are drawn to moving objects, and something that shows no signs of life will not draw their interest. However, some animals exhibit this behavior for different kinds of reasons. Certain snakes can wait for prey, whereas ants do so to avoid conflict.

Snakes, fish, insects, and mammals all pretend to be dead. For instance, possums. “Playing possum” means pretending to be dead or sleeping so that someone will not annoy or attack you. The black-footed ferret, skunk, and weasel can all do this. And the marbled polecat is an expert at playing the role of the dead.

But first, the marbled polecat will try other methods. When it detects danger, it stands on its hind legs and flashes its bright colors, which serve as a warning signal throughout the animal kingdom. In addition, the marbled polecat has special anal glands that can secrete a pungent odor. It also does this when it pretends to be dead or when it feels threatened.

Broken plans 

Volodymyr continues, “The girls placed the marbled polecat in a rabbit cage in an abandoned apartment that was cluttered with stuff.

I went to Lysychansk via Kreminna is a town in the Luhansk region, close to Lysychansk. Kreminna because I have family there. And I have a friend, Brian, from the US, who fell in love with Ukrainian forests and lived in Siverskodonetsk. I said, ‘Brian, can you give me a ride from Kreminna to Lysychansk? We need to pick up some rare animals, go to the forest, and release them. An hour there, an hour back…’ 

‘Don’t they stink?’

‘It’ll be fine.’ His wife was pregnant, and she was worried about the car being clean and her husband coming back as soon as possible.

I was going to vaccinate the marbled polecats against rabies, and I wanted to also take their paw prints and DNA material. But nope! It turned out that one of the marbled polecats had damaged the cage and gotten out. We spent three hours searching. We discovered it where half a brick had been broken off, behind the toilet. The animal curled up there, sleeping. We had to dismantle the toilet to get it out. Obviously, I was unable to do anything with the animals [vaccinate them and engage in research] because they were too frightened. We had to bring them to the forest, but I was bitten again.”

With its strong paws and long claws, the marbled polecat digs a spacious hole. Although when it is not in the mood to dig, it can sleep in someone else’s.

With the help of radio tracking, it was found that the marbled polecat covers up to one kilometer a day, rarely repeating its previous route and changing its den and territory of activity every 2-3 days. It spends time hunting, and when it is tired, it sleeps.

Temporary inconvenience

Volodymyr recalls, “When the marbled polecat bit me for the second time, I realized that I needed to get vaccinated against rabies.

Well, it’s 10 pm. We are going to an emergency room. They have no idea what the marbled polecat is there. And the rabies vaccine that was present contained six doses… Finally, they told me firmly that I needed to return for my next dose or find another vaccine from the same series.

They monitored me for two hours following the vaccination. Meanwhile, the marbled polecats were screaming. Plus, it smelled like there were skunks in the car.

Finally, when we went to release the animals, it was night . Brian brought me to Siverskodonetsk and said, ‘I’m not taking you to Kreminna, because my wife is waiting, but I’ll get you a taxi.’ And it was raining so heavily! Just a downpour! We also drove all over Siverskodonetsk in search of an ATM at two in the morning. We couldn’t see the road, there were streams of water everywhere.

In Kreminna, they quickly checked whether there was a batch of the vaccine I needed. And there was! So I got vaccinated there. And then I went home to Kharkiv and made 7 calls to get a referral for further vaccination. This is the twenty-first century, yet not everyone receives full vaccinations. People arrive on the first day, do not continue, and die from rabies.”

The boom of marbled polecats

Volodymyr elaborates, “In 2022-2023, there was a wave of mice in the trenches. At that time, there were many reports that marbled polecats were seen there. These are not very good stories, because these marbled polecats ended up in private hands. My colleagues from the NGO Ferret Galaxy and I called around to find out what the fate of the animals was. We were told that they were released. But it turned out that this was not always the case.

It happened that people realized that they could not keep a marbled polecat because it is a very special animal. Even though it appears adorable, it jumps at you, bites, and stinks. And then the animals get released. We know of two such cases.

This is the rarest species among mustelids. However, they are often captured.

Another marbled polecat I know of was in the Donetsk region. The animal was found near Kramatorsk is a city in the Donetsk region.Kramatorsk and was almost sold on the street. And then the man turned to Ferret Galaxy to consult about the maintenance of the animal… He swore that he had released the marbled polecat. But I don’t know if that really happened.” 

At the turn of the twentieth century, the marbled polecat was a common sight in the Azov steppes and on the territory of the modern Donetsk region. In the second half of the century, the animal began to die out.

The virgin steppe was plowed up more and more intensively, and cattle were grazed on what remained. The dogs that helped the shepherds herd their flocks caught wild animals in the steppes, including marbled polecats.

In the 1990s, scientists believed that only 100-150 marbled polecats remained in Ukraine. Gradually, cattle breeding in the East began to decline. And the predatory animal was seen more often. The revival of the marbled polecat began in 1998, as scientists later recorded. And since 2009, there has been a boom in the number of marbled polecats (if you can even call it that, given there have only been 29 of them identified over 43 years).

In 2010, a fight between two males was seen in Pryazovia is the geographic area of the north coast of the Sea of Azov, located in south-eastern Ukraine. Source: Wikipedia.Pryazovia, watched by another marbled polecat, probably a female. In 2016, a female was caught near Kramatorsk, which was a local sensation. According to the author of the study, 7 marbled polecats were found around Kramatorsk from 2016 to 2023.

In recent years, videos of marbled polecats from the trenches have been shared online. Last year, “a marble cat” was seen near a lake in Dnipro. And this year it was also spotted near Ukrainian military positions.

If you ever come across one, here’s a quick reminder: It is against the law in Ukraine to keep a Red List animal in captivity or to sell it.

The cover photo shows a marbled polecat at Magdeburg Zoo in Germany. Photo by Klaus Rudolph. Source: http://www.biolib.cz

The bus depot in the village of Bilohorodka was rarely in use. No one could say for sure when a van covered in brightly colored fabric appeared there. It seemed to be a circus van. It was heavily rusted. There was a bucket next to it, and someone had poured some sawdust on the bottom of the load space.

Once close to the van, a surprise awaits: Two bears are sitting in the back, each locked in a rusty cage about a square meter in size. The cages could barely fit the animals themselves.

This is exactly what animal rights activists saw when they arrived in the village of Bilohorodka in the Kyiv region in 2015. The owner introduced them to his “stars” — bears Yulia and Zoya. The animals worked in the entertainment industry, and after each performance, the bears used to get back to their cramped cages.

What happened to Yulia and Zoya next? How did the circus life affect the mental health of these animals? In this article, we are looking for answers to questions about the lives of Yulia and Zoya in particular and circus bears in general.

How and where did animal rights activists first encounter Yulia and Zoya? 

“I remember that day very well. It was June. There was a truck at the depot, not a very big one, more like a food truck. The cages were small, so they stood side by side in this van. The owner was also there. It seemed that he was a handler, but it was not clear. He didn’t tell us much,” recalls Taras Boiko, director at FOUR PAWS Ukraine. The organization still has the bear owner’s phone number, but the only thing you can hear by dialing it is “This number is out of service.”

It is not known for certain whether someone noticed the bears and informed animal activists or whether the owner himself contacted them. At the time, an expert on bear behavior, Maryna Shkvyria, was working as a consultant for FOUR PAWS, which supported a bear shelter in the village of Berezivka (Zhytomyr region). “I got a call from Yana Renk, an animal rights activist,” Maryna recalls. “Yana is no longer alive. She was killed by russians in the first days of the full-scale war. She told me about the van with the bears. She said the owner was willing to give them away. I took a taxi there, took a picture, and sent it to the organization’s management. They got it and replied, ‘Let’s take them.’”

Then FOUR PAWS staff came to Bilohorodka and signed an agreement with the owner to transfer the animals under their care. One of the signatures belonged to Taras Boiko, who recalls the words of Yulia and Zoya’s former owner. He was a young man, and he told Taras, “I can’t keep them anymore. They are of little use because they are old and sick. So take them away.”

The bears were loaded into transportation cages and brought to Berezivka. In 10 days, the enclosures were prepared, and the bears were eventually able to go there.

Four years later, Zoya and Yulia were relocated to the BEAR SANCTUARY Domazhyr, where they live today.

What was the state of the bears’ health?

Back in Berezivka, Zoya had many of her teeth removed, which had been previously damaged, as she ground them against the bars. Yulia had similar issues, so she also had to have her teeth treated.

Zoya was diagnosed with a whole set of problems: liver cirrhosis, bladder inflammation, a broken finger and claw, severe neurological disorder, and epileptic seizures. In addition, they found out that the bear was almost blind.

Both bears exhibited pathological behavior. They had severe stereotypic behavior.

“Yulia shifts from paw to paw and shakes her head,” says Olya Fedoriv, marketing manager at the BEAR SANCTUARY Domazhyr. “When visitors see this, they are happy that ‘the bear is dancing’. It is important to emphasize that this is a sign of stress, and it is not fun at all.”

Animals often respond to stress by making repetitive movements. Something similar happens to people. When nervous, some unconsciously twiddle their thumbs, some bite their nails or pencils, some rock from side to side. People with autism can repeat monotonous movements under stress. This is called stereotypic behavior. It also occurs in animals living in poor environments and cramped conditions. An animal starts walking in a circle, moving back and forth along the fence, shaking its head, or scratching itself. An elephant, a horse, a bear, a wolf, or a parrot can behave like this. When an animal has something to distract it, the behavior may not interfere with its life. The situation is different when it lives in a confined space and its days are filled with absolutely nothing. In this case, an animal can fixate on this behavior, often to the point of harming itself or ignoring other stimuli. Even when such an animal has a choice of what to do, it will not immediately overcome stereotypic behavior.

It may take a long time for an animal to give up its obsessive behavior and, for example, go exploring the enclosure.

It is usually not possible to completely overcome stereotypic behavior, especially in older animals. However, experts try to at least reduce its manifestations. For this purpose, they use so-called enrichment enclosures. There are special toys that stimulate the animals’ curiosity, make them move, and distract them from the behavior.

Olya Fedoriv shares what enriches the enclosures at Domazhyr, “We have a wooden box inside which an animal caretaker puts food. The bear has a very developed sense of smell. It smells the food and tries to get it. Bears do not break the box. They try to interact with the toy and eventually realize which board needs to be moved to get the food out. There is a wooden drum with a hole on top where an animal caretaker puts the food. The bear knows that he has to spin the drum and put his paw inside to get the food out.

There are bars to climb on, and some can be laid down on. And there are those on which food is laid out, and bears have to get it out. There are wooden balls, and animals love to play with them. If someone shows a strong manifestation of stereotypic behavior, animal caretakers react by throwing nuts with honey to the bears. The bear catches the smell, gets distracted, and goes looking for the nuts.”

What other circus animals have ever lived at Domazhyr? 

Even before Zoya and Yulia, a circus bear named Khrystyna lived in Domazhyr. She had been one of the first residents of the sanctuary. She is no longer there. Khrystyna died last year. However, it’s important to tell her story. Her autopsy showed many severe chronic diseases.

Khrystyna was a Himalayan brown bear. She had beautiful sandy fur. “This subspecies is used in the circus because the bears are small and compact. They are easier to transport and control,” explains Natalia Halayko.

Khrystyna was seized from her owner in August 2017. Natalia recalls, “The bear lived in a traveling circus. The owner traveled all over Ukraine. He transported neglected Khrystyna in a cramped cage. He would put skirts and all kinds of other outfits on her, and she would perform circus tricks. There is a village called Ivano-Frankove not far from us, and he came there with a performance. Back then, the ban on keeping wild animals in traveling circuses was in place. Animal activists, together with the police, seized the bear.”

There was an inflamed area on the animal’s neck, completely without fur, a place from which the collar had not been removed for years. Khrystyna was diagnosed with many chronic diseases. She suffered from arthritis, arthrosis, and had a severe stereotypic behaviour. Khrystyna had glaucoma in one eye, which had to be removed. The bear’s teeth had deteriorated, so the staff bought food for her that she was able to chew.

Khrystyna got used to her enclosure well. She loved to swim and bask in the sun. However, her chronic illnesses still bothered her. Two years ago, Khrystyna began to get very sick and was suffering a lot. At Domazhyr, it was decided to euthanize her. Khrystyna was 27 years old.

Why do circus animals have so many diseases?

When bears are kept in private animal collections, most owners cannot provide adequate nutrition, explains Natalia Halayko, deputy director of the BEAR SANCTUARY Domazhyr. The animals live in cramped cages, and their sedentary lifestyle is harmful to the musculoskeletal system. A circus animal is under constant stress: bright lights, lots of people, noise, applause, music, lots of smells.

Natalia Halayko explains, “It is clear that the bears from circuses were abused in their places of living. They have serious problems with vision, hearing, and severe stereotypic behavior.”

Sometimes in circuses or hunting stations, animals are harmed deliberately. Domazhyr staff does not recall any cases when someone was caught in the act, however, such abuse is clear from the conclusions of veterinarians who examined the bears. Natalia tells us, “Our Zoya is blind. Veterinarians assume that the bear could have been blinded on purpose so that it would not react to bright light. For example, sometimes animals are beaten with sticks on the cervical spine, which disrupts innervation. If we compare the health of a circus bear and an animal that was simply kept in a cage, the health of circus animals is much worse.”

It is not so easy to find out how an animal actually lived before it came to the rehabilitation center. “If an animal is forcibly seized, it is often not even possible to meet the owners, let alone learn in detail about the animal’s life. The owners do not always show up for a removal procedure. Sometimes they say, ‘You can come, and a representative will be there.’ We take the animal and that’s it.”

Bears used in the entertainment industry do not hibernate. This also affects the bear’s health. The processes in its body do not happen in a way that is natural for the species. “In the wild, it can happen that a bear does not finish eating and then does not go to sleep. But this is very rare. Next year, such a bear can go to sleep for the winter. However, in captivity, bears have no choice. They simply are not allowed to sleep year after year. Physiological processes are disrupted. During the winter sleep, the skin on the paws should regenerate, and fat should be burned off little by little until spring. But none of this happens.

In winter, bears don’t eat anything in the wild. In the spring, the animal eats a little, then the mating season begins and it loses weight. The bear starts eating a lot in August. By winter, the animal can increase its weight by up to 40%. In captivity, everything is different. Zoya and Yulia were very thin, and sometimes bears in captivity are overfed, and this also harms them.”

How have Zoya and Yulia settled in at Domazhyr?

Zoya’s enclosure is designed to allow her to move freely. She lives alone. It is dangerous to place her with others. The bears may fight, and this is a big risk for a blind bear.

Yulia is a totally different case. Two years ago, she was transferred from the adaptation enclosure to a big one. Bears Mania and Kvitka live in the neighboring one. “Perhaps Yulia will be able to socialize and live in a large enclosure with Mania and Kvitka,” Natalia hopes. “Mania and Kvitka also used to live separately. Now they eat together and sleep together. As for the relationship between them and Yulia, there are better days and worse ones. We hope that they will become friends. This is the fourth year of socialization. We are taking baby steps.

Socializing bears sometimes takes years. If successful, they live together. This improves their quality of life.”

Does a bear have a personality?

Of course, and what a personality it is! “The bears’ personalities are very different,” says Olya Fedoriv. “Some of our bears are very calm. They walk around slowly, and they are in no hurry. There are also active ones that run around from the early morning, then take a little nap in the afternoon, and then run and play again.”

Zoya is a sensible lady. She enjoys sniffing everything and often lifts her head up to smell the air. Yulia loves to play with the enrichments and demonstrates bizarre poses. Olya Fedoriv even created a special series of posts on social media called Yoga Poses by Yulia. The bear is especially fond of a log suspended on chains. Olya says, “She lays down under the log and starts shaking it with her four paws! Or she likes to sit in the pool. She sits there for a long time. She likes to put her face in the water, and only her eyes are visible. I call her ‘a crocodile’.”

Everyone in Domazhyr has their own preferences. For example, bear Masha is known for her love of tomatoes, and bear Potap loves fish. Zoya’s favorite food is bananas. Yulia is not a picky eater — she likes everything.

How does a bear mind work?

Natalia Halayko explains, “The bear’s intelligence is somewhere on the level of a dog.

The bear has a very good memory. 80% of the bear’s diet consists of plants, so they need to move through bushes where there may be berries or other food. So they create their own routes. Bears think over where to go for food.

Bears raise their cubs very attentively for two or three years. A bear can take in another bear cub if it is an orphan. It happens that a young bear gives birth to cubs and cannot teach them all the skills, then an older bear can take them away.

We went to the Carpathian Mountains and talked to local people. They told us that a bear, having noticed hunters, can go backwards to put tracks in the wrong direction and deceive people. These are truly animals able to think carefully.”

Scientists caution against attributing human traits to an animal. However, this does not mean that a bear feels good in a cage. The discomfort of an animal living in a cramped and poor environment is not only in restrictions of its movement. In such conditions, an animal has little sensory load, and in simple terms, it is terribly bored. This is especially true for animals with high intelligence. And bears are definitely among them.

The enrichment of the enclosures at Domazhyr is both to distract bears from the stereotypic behavior and to allow them some mental gymnastics. They even eat with special mannerism. They have their own ways of savoring their favorite food. Olha shares her observations, “We give them oranges. I’ve noticed more than once that they eat all the flesh and leave the peel. Once we brought watermelons. They pressed lightly from above, the watermelon cracked, they opened it, and ate the inside part. They do not swallow everything at once. They even put an apple on their paw and eat a little bit. However, the bear bites on it two or three times, and the apple is gone.”

What happens after rehabilitation and socialization of bears?

People often ask why the bears are not released from the rehabilitation center into the wild, Natalia says. “There are centers that take care of cubs from the wild, whose mothers have died, for example. They are taught to survive without direct human contact. If an animal is born in captivity and is used to humans, it is a huge risk. Perhaps the bear will cope in the wild. However, it will approach people, and that does not always end well.”

The bears that come to Domazhyr will live here for the rest of their lives. They are to some extent protecting their relatives in captivity. At the sanctuary, people can see bears in conditions close to nature and listen to stories about their fate. After that, it is unlikely that these visitors will have the desire to lock such an animal in a cage, put a skirt or a collar on it.

The grumpy hen Baba Zina, the dogs Romka and Hraf, Mike and Gina, the pig Dusia, and the goat Marta live in shelters or with families across Ukraine. Most likely, these, and thousands of others, animals would not have survived if they hadn’t been taken in, evacuated, or treated in time by the people honored by UAnimals at the Animal Protection Award. 

These people experience every layer of society’s attitude toward animals on a daily basis. They know how often indifference is intertwined with compassion in the story of an animal.

We asked them about the moments that left the strongest impressions on them, and here’s what they’ve told us.

“No one expected he would survive” 

Anastasiia Klimniuk, the founder and the head of Animal House Rescue NGO

Kharkiv/Poltava region

This memory is from February 26, 2022. Animal food was hard to come by in Kharkiv. You couldn’t buy natural food, and all pet stores were closed. A warehouse with pet supplies opened in a garage. We were in a queue for dog food with 60 other people. It was a moment I’ll never forget. A man approached us with a cat in a carrier. His house had been destroyed, his wife had evacuated. He decided to go defend the country and had nowhere to leave the cat. He asked the people if anyone could take the cat in. No one responded. My husband and I exchanged glances and almost instantly decided to take the cat. That’s how we started taking in animals.

Later, we found out that the cat belonged to that man’s son. He and his wife had just had a baby, who was just two weeks old when the war began. So they decided to leave the cat with the grandparents for a month. When the man came to that line, the young parents were under russian occupation. Later, I received a message from them asking, “Do you still have our cat by any chance?” They sent me a photo of him as a kitten. So when we took him in, he was still very young. In 2022, the cat returned to his family.

There are examples of very caring attitudes toward animals in our area. Once, people saw a German shepherd lying near their yard. At first, they thought the dog was dead since he didn’t even move his ears. Eventually, they realized the dog was breathing. The people contacted us, and we took the animal to a veterinary clinic. There was very little hope of him surviving. The dog had no sensitivity in his body at all. An MRI showed a dislocation in his cervical spine.

When we picked the dog up at the clinic, he was already eating and going to the toilet on his own. The people who found him agreed to take in the dog with a disability and care for him. They named him Hraf. Now he can crawl, lie in a sphinx pose, and sit up for about 40 seconds, and he doesn’t need anyone’s help to eat. They built a wheelchair-like device so he is able to move around.

She fled on foot with a child and a puppy from shelling 

Olena Rusina, the head of Pegasus shelter

Malozakharyne, Dnipropetrovsk region

Recently, we were asked to go to a village because there was a large injured dog there. He had just appeared on the streets, even wearing a collar, but no one knew where he came from.

Local elderly women noticed him. These weren’t young people, skilled at using the Internet, yet they still tried to post his photo on social media to look for his family. The women even chipped in to buy parasite treatments for the dog.

We got a call after he got into a fight with another dog. We arrived and were met by these women, all with canes. These were civilized people who didn’t abandon the animal. They didn’t say, as often happens, “The dog’s lying around somewhere, go find him yourselves.” They followed our car, led us to the exact spot where the dog was. They cared for us, the volunteers. That was very heartwarming. The dog is still being treated and now lives at Pegasus shleter.

There was also a case when the offensive on Vovchansk began. Some people even fled on foot. A woman contacted us, asking if we could help provide shelter for a puppy. We didn’t want to, as our shelter was overcrowded. But it turned out this young woman was fleeing shelling on foot. She only took her child in a stroller. Just imagine the state she was in at that time! On the road, she saw a small, exhausted puppy. He was in the same circumstances as she was. The woman picked up the puppy and placed him at the bottom of the stroller! 

She made it to Dnipro, but didn’t abandon the puppy in the city. Then she contacted us, saying, “What do I do with a puppy and a child?” I posted the story on social media, and a family immediately responded and adopted the dog.

“Forgive me, Mike”

Serhii Ludenskyi, the founder and the head of Save Animals Ukraine NGO

Dnipro

Not long ago, I was asked to evacuate two Rottweilers from the frontline village of Oleksandropil in the Donetsk region. An elderly man was still living there, with a granddaughter waiting for him in Poland. The only issue was the dogs: two Rottweilers, 7-year-old Mike and 5-year-old Gina, lived in his yard. Traveling with such large dogs would have been difficult for the elderly man. It was because of them that he hadn’t left.

On the day of the evacuation, the elderly man arrived at his yard by bicycle. He had come from a small neighboring village, which was hit less often by artillery. A field behind his house was burning after a strike. All of this was happening under the thunderous sound of artillery.

The most heartbreaking moment was the man’s goodbye to his dogs. He hugged Mike’s head and said, “Forgive me, Mike. I have no choice.”

That video on my TikTok got a million views. I think many Ukrainians could relate to that pain.

We knew that Mike was aggressive. I had to climb onto the roof of the van and pull him up by the leash to get him inside.

The elderly man asked us to leave quickly, to avoid prolonging the goodbyes. So we did.

We brought the dogs to our shelter near Dnipro. It turned out that Mike was only aggressive toward other dogs. Both Rottweilers were soon taken in by lovely families. I’m very happy there are people who don’t abandon animals and others who are willing to take them in.

Two skeletons on chains

Tetiana Nelha, the founder of Zoofamily charity fund and shelter 

Pavlysh, Kirovohrad region

I always see both sides of the coin in how people treat animals, and it shocks me. I look at the soldiers, the rescuers who evacuate animals from combat zones while risking their own lives. They’re amazing. On the other hand, there are people in our area who don’t sterilize their pets, who cruelly dispose of puppies and kittens in trash bags at garbage dumps or in treelines. Some head into shelling to save animals; others kill them.

In our area there were people who would frequently leave their homes, abandoning their animals in chains and not feeding them. By law, we don’t have the right to enter someone else’s yard and take the animals. We had to push to get the police to go in with us and remove the dogs from their chains. These were already two skeletons. There’s currently an investigation against those people, so I can’t say more. I took the animals for treatment and rehabilitation at Zoofamily.

When a vet becomes an animal volunteer

Aliona Hrinnyk, the founder of Give a Paw YU NGO

Pivdennoukrainsk, Mykolaiv region

One day the phone rang, “Hello, I’m a veterinarian. I googled ‘volunteers Pivdennoukrainsk,’ and your number came up right away. I want to be useful, by giving advice at the very least.” It was Oleksandr Sokolov, who had relocated from Enerhodar. We met, and I immediately invited him to join our sterlization projects.

Before that, I had rented a house in the neighboring village of Kostiantynivka for animals to be housed temporarily. Well, calling it a house is generous; it was falling apart. There were walls, piles of trash, and grass up to our waists. My husband, my father, and I started fixing it up. People helped. Someone brought a bucket, someone brought a broom. A few volunteers came to clear weeds. We made sure the house was in order and set up a temporary place for animals to stay in. 

When Oleksandr arrived, with other volunteers, we chipped in to buy thread, anesthesia, and to set up an operating room. We began sterilizing stray cats and dogs there.

Time passed. I changed jobs, and our financial situation improved. We invested money, and in September 2024, we opened a clinic in the city.

There, we treat pets for a fee — to help strays, you need resources. Soldiers and internally displaced persons get discounts; some even get treatment free of charge. If an elderly woman comes with a pet, we treat it at a discount or free of charge. Plus, we do free spaying only of female cats so far. Our city has a shelter. By agreement, we operate on their dogs. Sometimes animals are brought in for treatment and we don’t charge for that. For strays under care of volunteers, we only charge the cost of materials.

We run campaigns for the free sterilization of strays. Our city is small, and there are more animals here than people. So we focus on sterilization. 

That village house now serves as a post-op recovery space and houses animals with disabilities. And Oleksandr Sokolov still works with me at the clinic.

“It wasn’t the shelling that killed them, it was hunger”

Alina Ostapenko, a member of Sumy Animal Home 

Sumy

I hardly remember life before the war. February 24, 2022, was a turning point in my mind. That’s when my real test as an animal rights defender began. It seemed that after the liberation of the Sumy region, life should have gotten easier, but then came the shelling of border areas and mandatory evacuations.

A year ago, in Yunakivka, a border village in the Sumy region, a local woman found eight dead dogs in different yards. It wasn’t the shelling that killed them, it was hunger. Most of the animals remained chained up until they died, unable to find even a scrap of food. All of them had been left there by people.

We had to go there to save the chained-up animals. On our first trip to the border area, we evacuated two dogs, Bruno and Alex, from Yunakivka.

Bruno’s survival was nothing but a miracle. We found him tied up in a yard where two other dogs already lay lifeless. Alex survived by eating raw corn.

After Alex and Bruno, we evacuated around 15 more dogs from Yunakivka.

Bruno is now at the shelter, and we’re still looking for a home for him. Alex found a loving family last year.

After meeting these dogs, we began actively evacuating animals from the border areas. Few people wanted to go to the villages of the Sumy region, so I decided to learn how to drive. That’s how a new chapter of spending weeks in remote shelled corners of the region began. Sadly, we couldn’t save them all.

In three years, we’ve found homes for about a thousand animals. No more abandoned animals is the result I strive for.

Neighbors so unalike

Olha Volkova, the head of Soul of a Tramp shelter 

Lupareve, Mykolaiv region 

This happened in the village of Lymany, before my trip to the Animal Protection Award. There, one woman poisoned about 20 dogs.

An acquaintance came to me and said, “Imagine, Olia, while you’re saving animals, this woman asked me, ‘Are you going to the city? Then buy me some rat poison, I didn’t have enough. I’ll poison the dogs.’” When I heard that, I went to the village. But the dogs were already dead, I couldn’t do anything. I saw the woman who poisoned them. I asked if she didn’t feel sorry for the dogs. She replied, “No. I poisoned them, and I’ll keep poisoning them.”

Olha has passed her testimony to the legal department of UAnimals and hopes to bring that woman to justice.

Roman Oleksandrovych, Baba Zina, Dusia, and the others

Viktoriia Zhydkova, the founder of Virnist animal protection society and of Human Rights Initiative NGO

Dobropillia, Donetsk region

In August 2019, my husband went to take out the trash. There was a bag with puppies in the dumpster. Only one was still alive, it was just two hours old. That’s when our fight for its life began. My husband made a special box for the puppy, basically, an artificial mom. We fed it by the clock, woke up at night. One time, my husband suddenly yelled, “Come here!” I thought something bad had happened. I came over and the puppy had opened the eyes. I’ve never seen my husband so happy. And now that dog is our famous Roman Oleksandrovych. Little Roma.

Another real act of humanity was when a whole chain of kindness worked together to rescue a farm in Udachne. I’m a vegetarian, and it was essential to me to save the farm, not to slaughter the animals. I wanted to create a shelter that would take in farm animals, and I shared the idea on social media.

That’s when a man from Udachne called me. He had a small farm. I must’ve asked him ten times, “Are you going to eat the animals?” He said no, and that their goose was 15 years old, the goats were 17…

Many people were involved in the farm’s evacuation. And now the animals from Udachne live at my shelter. We have Dusia the pig, who gives you her paw. There’s Marta the goat, she always greets you, bleats in her own way, and stretches out her front leg. There’s a chicken we call Baba Zina because she’s always grumpy. The moment you walk into the coop, she clucks as if to say, “You’re walking wrong, standing wrong, doing everything wrong.” Her beak won’t ever close. 

Kolia and the puppies 

Inna Borodulia — founder and the head of Happy Cat CSO

Zaporizhzhia

I work closely with a soldier named Slavik. He has evacuated a large number of animals and finds people to take them out of the combat zone. He pays for sterilization and treatment out of his own pocket. I’m actually about to head out to vaccinate puppies where he’s stationed. I’d love to take them all to the shelter, but that’s just not possible. To me, he’s a human with a capital H.

But I have another hero. Kolia, a tall, easy-going guy who works at a factory. Honestly, at first, I thought he wasn’t the brightest. But things aren’t always what they seem at first glance. The summer before last, Kolia found newborn puppies in a dumpster. Not afraid of the challenge, he took them in and raised them. All by himself! And this while working shifts at a demanding job! Every one of those puppies survived. He found homes for them all and kept one for himself. Ever since, I tell him, “Kolia, you’re my hero.”

***

After receiving their awards, the winners of the Animal Protection Award are quick to step out of the spotlight and return to their animals. At home, they change back into work clothes and roll up their sleeves. For three years of full-scale war, these people have been taking in dogs and cats, farm and wild animals, those evacuated from the front line or nearby areas, and sometimes they evacuate them on their own. That’s hundreds, sometimes thousands, of new animals each year. Animals keep arriving because the war continues. However, we can at least make sure these animal defenders don’t have even more work because of abandoned and mistreated pets left behind in safer regions of Ukraine.

“Selling wild European hamsters.” I posted this ad on one of the country’s most popular online marketplaces, OLX. I promised healthy and active male and female hamsters. The European hamster is a species listed in Ukraine’s Red Data Book, so I set the price at a minimum of 800 hryvnias (~$20) “per piece.”

For half a day, the ad awaited moderation, but in the evening, it was rejected. This item was on the list of those prohibited for publication.

However, soon after, I made a second attempt. This time, I omitted the full scientific name of the species but provided a detailed description of my endangered fluffies. And just like that, the ad was approved.

I didn’t have a single hamster, and I had never even seen a wild hamster in my life. But if I had one, I could have easily violated the law. Yes, Ukrainian legislation does prohibit the sale of Red Data Book animals and plants. Despite this, such sales were, until recently, thriving openly on perhaps the country’s largest online marketplace platform. 

A Lynx on OLX

On September 7, 2023, near a shopping mall in the Obukhiv district outside Kyiv, two cars pulled up. A fashionably dressed woman and another woman with a notebook stepped out of one. From the other car, a man emerged holding a cat carrier.

— Did you bring the documents for the animal? — the woman with the notebook asked.

— Need documents? We’ll make them! Hold it in your hands, don’t be afraid!

The man took a small lynx out of the carrier and handed it to the stylishly dressed woman. Of course, she should hold it — to fall in love with it and finally decide to buy it! She had been considering it for two weeks. A wealthy young mother had responded to an OLX ad in which the man was offering a lynx. Her daughter had recently watched the “Mavka” cartoon and fallen in love with a character named Kvus, who resembled a lynx kitten. The girl desperately wanted a pet lynx. The man was asking $3,800 for the animal.

As soon as the mother took the lynx kitten, the police appeared. The animal was forcibly confiscated. The stylishly dressed woman was Marina Ivaniusko, a lawyer from the animal rights organization URSA. The organization’s founder Yaroslava Koba, who devised the sting operation, played the role of the assistant with the notebook.

“We asked whether it bites, what to feed it, whether it should be sterilized, how much space it needs. In messages, they assured us it was one of the easiest animals to keep, that it wouldn’t mind living in a house and eating cat food,” Yaroslava recalls.

The man claimed he bred adult lynxes with a male once a year and sold the offspring. The confiscated young lynx was underweight and had numerous health issues.

“It was impossible to go to their location and verify that they were breeding animals — they don’t disclose their address,” says Yaroslava. “At the man’s registered address, there were no lynxes. To track him and search the premises, a warrant is required, but in Ukraine, this is only considered an administrative offense, so no search warrant is issued.” As a result, the seller got off with a fine.

The lynx kitten was named Ursa. It is now undergoing rehabilitation at the Wild Animals Rescue Center in the Kyiv region. Efforts are being made to find it a shelter abroad where it can live in at least semi-wild conditions.

“When this lynx was confiscated, my phone didn’t stop ringing,” recalls lawyer Nina Arzamastseva, who provides legal support for crossing the border with animals. “Strange people were calling, asking if they could get the confiscated lynx back. I started asking them questions. In the end, I told them: forget about it.” 

Not Just the Big Ones

The law prohibits the sale and purchase of not only bears or big cats but even the smallest animal listed in the Red Data Book. That’s why I decided to start my experiment with a hamster.

However, the endangered wild hamster isn’t actually that small — it can weigh up to half a kilogram. It also has a habit of gnawing on everything in the vegetable garden, which is why people usually want to get rid of it.

At the Hamster Rescue Center, they urge people not to kill these animals but to report them to zoologists. Specialists then capture the hamster and relocate it to the wild. The head of the center, Mykhailo Rusin, has often been advised, “Pay people for the hamsters, and garden owners will be more willing to hand them over.” These advisors didn’t even realize the absurdity of their suggestion. And that wasn’t the strangest case. “There was an instance where some unknown individuals wanted to buy up hamsters for 2,000 hryvnias (~$50) each — who knows what for,” says Mykhailo. “We refused, and the matter ended there. But who knows? Maybe they found poachers willing to supply them with animals. We don’t know that.”

One of the most frequently listed Red Data Book animals on OLX were mustelids — ferrets and marbled polecats. Or maybe they were just the most documented cases since zoologists from the Rehabilitation and Care Center for Mustelids in Ukraine have been closely monitoring online marketplace websites over the past few years. Whenever they spotted an ad selling a rare animal, they would contact the sellers and negotiate persistently. The outcomes varied: sometimes, healthy animals were successfully returned to the wild; other times, cases ended in the animal’s death. Like this one did.

In 2020, in the Donetsk region, someone posted an ad for a “domestic ferret” they had found on the street. Experts came across the listing and immediately recognized the animal in the photo — not a ferret, but a rare marbled polecat. The Center’s staff began negotiations. At first, they asked the sellers to release the polecat back where they had found it, if it was healthy. The sellers refused, claiming the animal was limping. Eventually, they agreed to hand it over to a volunteer.

Vika Moiseyeva, director of the Rehabilitation and Care Center for Mustelids, recalls: “When they handed over the polecat, they demanded a ‘reward’ from the volunteer for ‘saving a rare animal.’ The volunteer immediately took the polecat to a vet. There were no issues with its legs, but it had a head wound. In the photos taken right after the animal was caught, there was no visible injury. The wound was a result of holding a wild animal in a space unsuitable for this species. In its attempts to escape the cage, the polecat had injured its forehead. The animal did not survive rehabilitation.”

In 2022, a steppe polecat ended up in private ownership in the Lviv region. The owner also listed it for sale. After a conversation with zoologists, he agreed to release the animal. However, things didn’t go as planned. It turned out that after months in captivity, the polecat’s health had deteriorated. All four of its canines — essential survival tools for ferrets — were broken.

“Most likely, it broke them itself on the cage bars while trying to escape. Later, it developed signs of epilepsy, so the little one had to remain in captivity,” says Viktoriya.

Some animals were successfully rewilded. In 2021, six European polecats that were put on sale in the Dnipropetrovsk region got lucky. The sellers handed them over with little resistance. Initially, though, there were seven polecats, but they gradually weakened, and one didn’t survive. The remaining six underwent rehabilitation and were released back into the forest.

A telling case occurred in the Volyn region in 2024. “We met a man who had ended up with five European polecats. He gladly handed them over for rehabilitation. As far as we know, the animals had been caught by a poacher who was trying to sell them through acquaintances. We released the polecats back into the wild. Later, the same man contacted us again — asking if he should buy an adult polecat from the poacher as well. We asked him to provide information about the poacher.” But that never materialized.

Buying a wild animal is just as much a crime as selling one. As long as there is demand, there will be supply.

Fish Too

Black caviar and sturgeon meat have become so popular worldwide that sturgeon species are now on the brink of extinction. According to the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), sturgeons are currently the most endangered group of species among all such groups.

The Danube basin and the Black Sea remain the last places in Europe where sturgeon populations are self-sustaining, meaning new generations of fish continue to appear. Wild sturgeon fishing has been banned in all countries that have territory within the Danube basin and the Black Sea coastline.

Despite all laws and agreements, sturgeon continues to be traded illegally, with the Odesa region being one of the most active hubs for this trade. Between 2016 and 2023, the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) recorded 94 cases of illegal sale or purchase of wild sturgeon in Ukraine.

According to various documents analyzed by the WWF, more than 930 kilograms of sturgeon meat and over 50 kilograms of caviar were bought or sold during this period. However, the organization states that this is just the tip of the iceberg.

After the shelling of Odesa began, access to the Danube and Black Sea shores was restricted or even prohibited in some areas. Nevertheless, some people still manage to reach fishing spots — 12 such incidents were recorded in 2023.

There have even been cases where officials, whose duty it is to protect the fish, were involved in illegal fishing. In September 2022, police detained two employees of the State Agency for Fisheries. They had been extorting monthly payments from commercial fishers in exchange for allowing them to fish without interference. These officials permitted excessive catches, including of sturgeon. In return for catching beluga and starry sturgeon — both rare species — the men received 50% of the catch’s value as a bribe.

Is There a Legal Way to Buy a Red Data Book Animal?

Obtaining Red Data Book species for sale (e.g., capturing animals in the wild) is explicitly prohibited by Article 19 of the Law of Ukraine, “On the Red Data Book of Ukraine.”

The Code of Administrative Offenses also effectively prohibits the sale of endangered animals, though the wording might not be obvious to someone without a legal background. The relevant clause refers to the “violation of the procedure for acquiring or selling objects of the animal world” (Article 88-1). However, no such regulation (“procedure”) officially exists. There are, of course, regulations relating to the sale of animals, but they are scattered across various other provisions. In this case, this is the Law “On the Red Data Book of Ukraine” and certain international regulations. Anyone who sells or purchases a Red Data Book animal in Ukraine faces a fine ranging from 1,700 to 3,655 hryvnias (~$41 to ~$90) and the confiscation of the animal.

The sale and purchase of any Red Data Book species within Ukraine are strictly prohibited. However, in some cases, such an animal may be purchased abroad and imported into Ukraine.

The IUCN Red List compiles all species worldwide that are threatened or at risk of extinction.

The international trade in rare animals is regulated by an agreement known as CITES — the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora. This agreement includes three appendices listing species. Depending on an animal’s status, trade may be strictly regulated or completely prohibited. Appendix I contains all species threatened with extinction. Trade in these animals is banned, though it may be allowed in exceptional circumstances and for non-commercial purposes.

A CITES permit is required to transport a wild animal across a border. Without it, at the very least, the animal will be confiscated at the border.

In some European Union countries, rare animals can be legally bred and sold. In such cases, a Ukrainian citizen can purchase an animal by obtaining a CITES permit. Once in Ukraine, the animal must be registered with the State Environmental Inspectorate. According to lawyer Nina Arzamastseva, birds of prey — such as saker falcons and peregrine falcons — have been imported into Ukraine through this process.

There are breeders in Ukraine who legally breed exotic animals — those not part of the country’s native fauna and not listed in the Red Data Book of Ukraine, though they may still be protected by international law. At the same time, a black market for these species continues to thrive.

Middlemen sell animals from illegal breeding operations, where they are born and raised in completely unsuitable conditions, the lawyer explains. “I received information about a panther cub that died,” says Nina Arzamastseva. “It was kept in such terrible conditions by these traffickers that it never reached a healthy weight. Someone bought it, and the cub died in the buyer’s hands. These black-market breeders have even created a non-governmental organization that issues documents for animals of any species whatsoever. The middlemen refer their clients to this organization, which provides all the necessary paperwork — registration certificates, and various certificates of origin. But in reality, these documents have nothing to do with the animal’s true background. That’s what happened with this panther cub.”

Until about a year ago, the OLX marketplace was flooded with ads selling Red Data Book animals, according to Nina. The platform now enforces stricter controls on prohibited listings, but the illegal market remains active: “People are still creating Telegram channels for sales, closed-group chats — even for Red Data Book animals. Everything has just moved under the radar.”

Main image: Charitable Fund Ukrainian Rehabilitation and Care Center for Mustelids

Viktor Shapoval has led Askania-Nova for two months longer than the duration of the full-scale war with russia. Prior to this role, he served for 20 years as a research officer and head of the biomonitoring and protected steppe laboratory within the reserve, joining right after graduating from Kherson State University. Over this time, he has not only acquired extensive knowledge about the unique steppe environment but has also, as he says, developed a deep love for Askania. It pains him to watch from afar as the reserve suffers under russian occupation, a situation he shares in the following interview.

History and Significance

The full-scale invasion marks Askania’s third encounter with war, and military conflicts are fundamentally incompatible with preserving natural reserves. During the Second World War, German and Soviet forces ravaged Askania-Nova’s infrastructure, showing little regard for the animals’ welfare; the Germans even transported a significant part of the collection away. This happened during the First World War as well. Currently, only its distance from the frontline provides a degree of safety.

Askania-Nova was seized on the first day of the full-scale invasion without notable resistance as the fighting began closer to the Dnipro River and near Melitopol. There were only isolated clashes near the reserve, and damaged military vehicles were found on its outskirts. However, the level of combat intensity witnessed in other Ukrainian protected areas did not occur in Askania-Nova.

It wasn’t until two months later, on May 2, 2022, that representatives of the occupation authorities arrived. During their visit, I heard much “instruction” about the so-called “special military operation,” responsibility, and other such nonsense. I made my Ukrainian stance and a lack of desire to cooperate clear. That, unsurprisingly, was not well-received. I also stated the amount required to sustain the reserve, and from their reaction, I saw that they appeared “a bit” surprised. They assumed they could simply step in and “rescue” us but this happened to be too expensive.

I believe the reason for their initial delay in coming to Askania-Nova was banal: they prioritized capturing profitable farms and agricultural enterprises. There is no need to look for any environmental logic or understanding of the historical value of Askania-Nova in their actions. They were utterly disinterested in the history, cultural and ecological value, or international conservation status of the reserve. 

Money and Support

The reserve is a budget-funded institution, so we had a procurement plan, with the final stages of tendering scheduled for late February. Naturally, everything was disrupted, and we faced a challenge in sourcing food for the animals. This didn’t mean starvation struck immediately. We had some reserves, but the feed consumption in Askania-Nova is quite high.

The frontline severely disrupted and cut off all logistics — Askania-Nova essentially turned into an isolated island amid a swamp. We had no choice but to openly request help via social media. It was a risky move; it’s no secret that the FSB monitors social media.

When we posted our first message about Askania-Nova’s critical needs, we connected with Oleksandr Todorchuk [founder of UAnimals]. Late that night, he wired us a substantial amount. A person we had never interacted with understood the situation and trusted us. We used that initial donation from UAnimals to purchase the first batch of feed. And we are incredibly grateful.

All those willing to help, including international partners and charitable organizations, could only support us financially. Delivering supplies to Askania-Nova from [Ukraine-]controlled territory was impossible, and requesting it from the other side was simply immoral, and we rejected that idea outright. We purchased goods within the occupied territory from our local farms. Thanks to this assistance, we managed to sustain ourselves in almost autonomous mode for more then a year.

Duty and Responsibility

The question of evacuation was not open for me for a long time. The responsibility for the reserve rested squarely on me as the director. For employees whose presence wasn’t essential on-site, we implemented remote work. However, those who cared for the animals and plants remained in the reserve on their workplaces.

We are neither a library nor a trolleybus depot — you can’t close us for a certain period of time and ask the animals to wait.

I left on the last day before the annexation was announced, on September 30, 2022. During the seven months I was in Askania, we stabilized the situation — securing feed, building materials for routine repairs, and spare parts for equipment maintenance.

A budget-funded institution has specific obligations, such as preparing financial and scientific reports. While on occupied territory, I couldn’t fulfill these. By leaving, I was able to meet with our partners and arrange charitable funding for the reserve, managing Askania-Nova remotely.

Even in such challenging circumstances, the reserve operated under Ukrainian jurisdiction. It’s telling that on collaborator Volodymyr Saldo’s channel, there was information of Askania-Nova “sabotaging” the russian authorities’ orders for over a year — a recognition of our resistance by the invaders themselves. To me, “sabotaged” is too mild a term.

On March 20, 2023, Dmitry Meshcheryakov was installed as the occupation director. Since then, all charitable expenses for Askania-Nova’s upkeep have ceased.

We still receive information about what is happening in the reserve, but I no longer have direct leverage. We document all the damage to the natural and artificial ecosystems in Askania-Nova, develop proposals for assessing these damages, and relay this to the relevant authorities and agencies to ensure future compensation through reparations from the agressor.

Our scientific work continues. We received a certification confirming the institution’s status as a scientific establishment, we continue to carry out a research program, and publish the professional journal Bulletin of the Biosphere Reserve Askania-Nova. 

There are still many things that can be accomplished remotely. For example, we document all fires. Up until March 2023, we could inspect fire zones directly, but now we rely on satellite images.

Negligence and Lawlessness

In August 2023, there was a large-scale fire in the Great Chapelsky Hollow [also referred to as the Great Chapelsky Lowland] where hoofed animals are kept. Predictably, the invaders immediately blamed the Ukrainian Armed Forces, alleging that artillery fire was the cause. They even announced some sort of investigation, but judging by the silence that followed, they quickly realized their own involvement in the course of this “investigation.”

The lack of proper scientific and veterinary oversight in the reserve causes significant issues and animal deaths. For instance, in November 2023, three African buffaloes died on the Big Chapelsky Pod. You might ask why a warm-climate African animal was left in unsuitable conditions in November. The answer is simple: the occupation administration has no relevant experience. They failed to properly move the animals to winter enclosures. Another animal died from an injury caused by a vehicle — a buffalo fractured its cervical vertebra and died on the spot. We have reported all these incidents to law enforcement.

The animals also suffer from the constant flyovers of russian aircraft above Askania. In August 2022, during one such flyover, a nilgai antelope panicked and collided with a concrete wall. Environmental laws prohibit flying over reserves due to the stress it causes the animals.

The invaders are even stealing our animals. On December 1, 2023, they took seven animals, including two Przewalski’s horses. We notified the National Academy of Agrarian Sciences of Ukraine, the Ministry of Environmental Protection and Natural Resources, the National Commission for UNESCO, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs through official letters.

The Przewalski’s horse is a species listed under a special appendix to the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora, which russia has also ratified. But whether the terrorist state follows international norms is a rhetorical question.

Only the liberation of Askania-Nova will put a stop to the invaders’ unlawful actions. The only real safeguard against this is the Armed Forces of Ukraine.

Currently, Askania is operating on inertia, surviving solely due to the dedication of the Ukrainian staff with many years of experience.

Yet, I have to give the occupation authorities credit — they’ve become adept at creating an image of “happy life” under the russian flag. The russians have now opened up excursion routes and are claiming it as an achievement. These routes existed long before the occupation administration arrived and even long before I was born — dating back to Friedrich von Falz-Fein (1863–1920) was the founder of Askania-Nova nature reserve complex.Friedrich von Falz-Fein. Only professional propagandists could so skillfully claim others’ accomplishments as their own and parade them as their achievements.

Liberation and Restoration

We are currently in a state of uncertainty. Only after the liberation will we understand exactly what needs to be restored in Askania-Nova.

It’s clear that the invaders will take some animals away, and some will die. But I believe some animals will remain — surviving even through catastrophic circumstances. We will work to restore their populations.

We might face a major demining problem in the reserve. The soil cover is also damaged by craters and trenches. The invaders started digging a trench even in the virgin steppe, but we managed to stop these insane actions. 

We know that trees are being cut down in the arboretum, and certain significant collections have already perished. We will need to restore the infrastructure, the territory, collection funds, and the natural ecosystems.

Through this experience, I can say that I’ve come to fully grasp a deep love and attachment to Askania-Nova, one that only became clear to me when I was deprived of it. I am no different from the hundreds of other enthusiasts working in the nature conservation field. It’s not highly profitable, but for us, it’s a calling. This is work that captures you and demands a natural reverence for nature. It’s a commitment for life.

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

Main image: Viktor Shapoval. Source: Dim TV channel

Giant mutant rats and two-headed dogs — the legends surrounding Chornobyl are countless. Add to that the eerie vibe of deserted, desolate lands, and it’s no wonder tourists from around the world have flocked here, particularly fans of the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. video game series and viewers of HBO’s miniseries. 

But Chornobyl isn’t about romance; it’s about tragedy. This land suffered deeply under Soviet rule in the 1980s, and now, since 2022, it faces similar harm from its successor, russia. On the very first day of russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, their troops entered the Exclusion Zone, occupying it and the Chornobyl Radiation and Ecological Biosphere Reserve. They dug trenches in the Red Forest, raising radioactive dust with their heavy equipment.

Now, after liberation, Chornobyl is also a militarized zone, as Ukraine’s army works to prevent the occupation from happening again. At the same time, it remains a nature reserve. The head of scientific research at the Chornobyl Reserve and the researcher who authored the book The Terrible, The Beautiful and The Ugly in Chornobyl details the transformation of local nature from the post-disaster era to the wartime period.

After the Disaster, or the Natural Stages of Acceptance

“When the accident occurred at the Chornobyl Nuclear Power Plant in 1986, specialists and military personnel — the so-called liquidators — filled the 30-kilometer zone around it,” says Denys Vyshnevskyi, who has led the Chornobyl Reserve’s scientific department for five years.

He adds that in the first days, efforts focused on reducing radioactive emissions from the damaged reactor and minimizing environmental consequences. 

“Ukrainian zoologists and botanists who began studying the Zone after the disaster developed a timeline of the ecological consequences of the catastrophe. They identified three stages, which we now refer to as shock, reset, and stabilization,” Vyshnevskyi explains.

Shock

The first stage, which lasted a few months, saw the most intense radioactive impact on the environment. 

“During this period, within a 10-square-kilometer forested area around the station — which bore the brunt of radioactive dust emissions following the reactor explosion — the pine trees began to die. Pine is nearly as sensitive to radiation as humans. The needles lost their chlorophyll and turned a rusty red color. This became the Red Forest,” says the scientist.

Reset

Then came the reset phase, which began in the latter half of 1986 and lasted until 1991. Vyshnevskyi describes it as follows: “Certain animals left Chornobyl, typically those dependent on human presence, such as the common pigeon and the house mouse. Some livestock animals perished due to being abandoned. Wild species moved in, replacing them, since they now had more space and less competition. This led to a gradual revival of typical Polissia [natural geographic region] wildlife.”

In some cases, domestic animals turned feral, a phenomenon still observable today. “A unique ecological experiment has unfolded in Lubianka, a village near the former town of Poliske. There, a man who kept cattle passed away, and his cows have now roamed freely for five years, living like wild aurochs along the river’s floodplain,” Vyshnevskyi shares.

Stabilization

By 1991, Chornobyl’s environment had reached a stage of stabilization and gradual recovery, where changes began to follow natural processes again. Vyshnevskyi notes that since then, the Zone’s ecosystem has started to resemble Polissia’s typical landscape.

Radiobiologist Olena Pareniuk recalls that around 2010, the Chornobyl Reserve experienced a surge in wild boar populations. “At that time, protection against them was installed. The animals would break through to the Zone and gnaw everything around them. And then, due to a plague, the number of wild boars decreased dramatically. For some time there were no wolves in the Zone, and then they appeared. It was incredible to see how nature changes and regulates itself.”

However, making conclusive scientific conclusions about how nature has adapted or why remains premature. Radiobiologist Kateryna Shavanova emphasizes that three decades of research are insufficient; at least another thirty years are needed.

In reality, long-term studies have been limited. Pareniuk notes that despite inspirational discussions about Chornobyl being an open-air laboratory, consistent funding, essential for any kind of research, has always been lacking for scientists studying the area.

“Studying wildlife, and especially evolutionary changes in wildlife, requires an experiment. Not a three-day laboratory experiment but an experiment throughout the entire life cycle. No one has ever conducted such research [there] because funding is only available now and then. Such things, however, require consistency. Therefore, unfortunately, no one can say with scientific accuracy how radiation affected the fauna of the Zone. We can only conclude that the animals have adapted,” explains radiobiologist Kateryna Shavanova, though she cautions that even this observation is not scientifically definitive.

In the absence of rigorous science, pseudoscience often takes hold. It plays into myths and rumors, abundant fantasies born of fear and ignorance.

Radiobiologist Kateryna Shavanova says that there are some unscrupulous scientists who have a fairly high citation index. However, the experiments of these scientists from different countries raise many questions: “They study, for example, two pairs of animals but make large-scale and ambitious conclusions. In fact, it’s freak research, which is then used to build conspiracy theories.”

The researcher also adds that in Chornobyl studies, it is crucial to factor in not just radiation but also climate change. 

“Yes, we can observe differences between animals in the Chornobyl Zone and those outside it. But we need to understand where these differences come from — whether they’re due to radiation or other environmental factors,” she explains. 

Olena Pareniuk emphasizes that it is also essential to accept the fact that nature does not always adapt. When animals moved, they were exposed to radiation, and the next generations could no longer be viable. In this case, we will not see adaptation: nature simply wiped someone out.

Chornobyl and War

“Sometimes I want to lament how the war affected Chornobyl. To lament the mining, the fact that the reserve suffered through the fighting… But then I remember how the chalk mountain landscapes in the east are being demolished, and I realize that complaining doesn’t seem ethical,” says Denys Vyshnevskyi.

He explains that although hostilities did harm nature, they did not destroy it. The full extent of the damage is still being assessed. Over the 36 days of occupation, russian forces looted approximately two million hryvnias’ worth of equipment, stole vehicles, and damaged facilities.

Estimating environmental damage from landmines, unexploded munitions, and forest fires is more challenging. In a report on the condition of the Chornobyl Reserve after the beginning of the full-scale invasion, its employees said that russian troops were quite active in the air over the protected area. The noise from planes and helicopters causes stress to wild animals. For example, it was reported that a nilgai antelope died in the Askania Nova reserve as a result of the invaders’ flights over the reserve, causing the exotic animal to crash into the fence of the enclosure.

russian military vehicles also traversed the reserve, and Chornobyl Nuclear Power Plant staff reported russian tanks moving through the Red Forest. Likely due to this, on February 24, 2022, Ukraine’s State Nuclear Regulatory Inspectorate detected a spike in gamma radiation near the plant.

Thus, since the liberation, Chornobyl has become a bizarre fusion of the military and the pristine. Where once there was an industrial-pristine mix, a third aspect has been added. “We visited Chornobyl in May of this year. The area is now well-prepared for defense — trenches, dugouts, mines… On the one hand, that is not what a reserve should be like. On the other hand, because of the strong defenses, the russians will not be able to break through from this direction again,” says Olena Pareniuk.

Still, researchers emphasize the importance of preserving Chornobyl as a conservation area.

“Polissia no longer exists as it once was. The swamps are drying up — climate change is doing its job. At the same time, however, swamps are an important factor that slows down climate change. Chornobyl is the area that is most strongly reminiscent of the authentic Polissia,” Kateryna Shavanova explains.

Moreover, the swamps also hinder enemy movement. Thus, restoring wetlands can enhance the defensive properties of the protected landscape in an environmentally friendly way. At least in this way, the war could have a positive impact on Chornobyl. Currently, it only causes destruction, hinders the development of the reserve, and prevents it from fulfilling its educational and research functions. 

Denys Vyshnevskyi says that the primary goal of the Chornobyl Reserve until 2006 was to overcome the consequences of the disaster. Then came the so-called empty era. Only in 2016, under the leadership of Vitalii Petruk, Director of the State Agency of Ukraine on Exclusion Zone Management, a new concept was proposed for the development of the reserve: not overcoming, but using the territory. In particular, the Exclusion Zone was to become a research site and a place for testing radiation protection technologies.

All of this is about safety, and in this concept, the workers of the reserve identified the development of safety as the main task of the Zone. Back in 2016, they had no idea how right they were.

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

Main and last images: The Exclusion Zone through the eyes of airborne assault troops. Source: WAR CREW Telegram channel

Militaries worldwide emit greenhouse gases that accelerate global warming. russia, with all its emissions caused by war, is accelerating the process even more. Meanwhile, we are no more than four years away from a 1.5°C rise in the global average annual temperature relative to pre-industrial levels.

Can anything still be done?

Olha Chevhaniuk, Head of Strategic Initiatives at UAnimals, talked about this with Lennard de Klerk live on air. We share the highlights of this conversation.  

A Little Green Capitalist

I grew up in a Dutch village with three older brothers. All of us brothers had several nicknames. One of my nicknames was Green Capitalist. Capitalist — because I didn’t mind making money, Green came because I was always concerned about the environment and cleaning up our mess.

My father had a factory. He produced packaging material for flowers, which is very fitting for the Netherlands. As a child during summers, I worked in the factory, and because of that, I became interested in the environment. You know, see all the plastic, you have waste materials… I was often working with a small recycling machine, trying to reuse the plastic materials. It was already a circular economy in the early days.

I started my studies in the early nineties when the Soviet Union fell apart. I realized that we in the West had no clue about what we called the East block, about all these different countries and nations. My parents had a satellite dish and I was playing a lot with it. I managed to get all these TV channels from Hungary, Romania, and the Baltic states. I got sort of interested in the part of Europe I knew nothing about. So, I started working in an engineering and consulting firm, which had its biggest office in Kyiv.

I knew nothing about Ukraine. I’m ashamed to say it now, but like many of us, I thought it was “sort of russia, but a little bit different.” I lived there for several years, traveled around the country, and learned about its regions and proud history, and I fell a little bit in love with the country. It was 1999-2001 — these were difficult times for Ukraine. The murder of the journalist Georgiy Gongadze happened, Leonid Kuchma was a president, so it was not always going in the right direction, but you could see a country developing so much differently from russia.

To cut a long story short, when I got back to the Netherlands, I started working for the Dutch government and got involved in climate change, helping to reduce emissions of greenhouse gases.

What brought you to research the impact of the war on climate change?

I live in Hungary and run a climate-neutral resort there. When the full-scale invasion started, we were able to house many Ukrainians who were on their way to Europe so that they could recover from the week in a car. I thought, what can I do besides helping refugees?

Since climate change is my expertise, I started thinking about what russian aggression does to the climate. When I started to work on this topic, I told friends and colleagues, and we realized that this was never done before — to look at the impact of conflict on climate.

The impact of this war is mostly on Ukraine’s territory. However, it also increases greenhouse gas emissions and accelerates global warming. I believe that by telling this story, we will also be able to show that russian aggression impacts the world.  

A Reminder about Climate Change

Climate change is caused by the emission of so-called greenhouse gases. Carbon dioxide is the most common greenhouse gas, but we have other gases besides CO2: methane, nitrous oxide, halogenated other gases. There are also gases such as sulphur dioxide, ammonia and black carbon aerosols. They all accumulate in the atmosphere. As a result, they trap the heat of the sun. That is why the average temperature in the world is going up.

In the UN’s Paris Agreement, we agreed to limit this increase in temperature to 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels. We cannot stop climate change anymore, it’s too late. But if we limit it to 1.5 degrees above pre-industrial levels, it is more or less manageable.  

If we get to 2 degrees or more, we will not be able to manage it anymore: catastrophic weather events can occur. We will have people on the move, etc. 

We only have 4 years left before the amount of greenhouse gases accumulated in the atmosphere is already enough to raise temperatures by 1.5 degrees.

So, we really have to work very hard to reduce greenhouse gas emissions drastically. But russia, with this war, is doing the opposite — it is causing more emissions. It is basically accelerating the growth of temperature and, therefore, the impact of climate change. 

War in Ukraine and Greenhouse Gases — What’s in Common?

What are the key environmental consequences of this war?

We concluded that the total emissions caused by the war were 175 tons of CO2.

•   It is the same as the Netherlands, with 18 million inhabitants emits in a year. The Netherlands is a highly industrialized country.
•   It is the same as putting 90 million new petrol cars on the road.
•   Or building 260 coal-fired power plant units of 200 MW each.

It is significant. 

Of course, if you look at the total picture of the world’s emissions, it is relatively small. But again — you should understand that we should bring the emissions down, they should ultimately reach zero. But the war is pushing emissions in the opposite direction.

How much of an impact do the burning russian oil depots have on climate?

We looked at different categories of emissions, including energy infrastructure — all the emissions caused by the damage done to power stations. That includes the emissions from oil depots that are put burning not only in russia, but also the oil depots that russians have destroyed in Ukraine. The total impact of energy infrastructure is 10%. But if we look at burning deposits, it’s relatively small. It’s below 1% of the total.

More important is the direct use of the military. All these tanks, all these vehicles use enormous amounts of diesel and kerosene. And that causes tremendous amounts of emissions.

Are more emissions generated in russia since they are at war, increasing manufacturing and energy use?

Yes, in particular in the production of military equipment. They use a lot of steel, and steel is a very carbon-intensive material. We haven’t seen the numbers yet. Every country must report their emission numbers to the UN with a 2-year delay, and russia hasn’t published its report for 2022. But I do expect an increase there.

Where does russia rank in terms of emissions on a global scale?

The first one is China, second is the USA. russia is ranked fifth.

Ukraine is much lower, simply because it’s a smaller country.

If the war doesn’t stop, what changes will we have?

Climate change will continue. It might very well be that these extra emissions caused by russia will not impact Ukraine but will cause flooding in Bangladesh or fire in the Amazon. It’s a global phenomenon. You cannot distinguish who caused what. This is just contributing to the buildup of greenhouse gases. 

The Indirect Impact

Do you feel your studies influence decision-making? 

It’s an eye-opener. As it was an eye-opener for me to see that conflict does so much to climate.

Militaries all around the world emit much CO2, even if there’s no war. Military emissions are about 5% of the world’s total. They train, they practice using military transport…  

russian aggression made all Europe realize that we are not safe—therefore, we have to invest more in defense. Many countries in Europe are increasing military spending and investing more in military equipment. That means military emissions will also go up. With a delay, it will increase emissions worldwide.

I fully understand that climate change is not the biggest problem for Ukraine now. You are fighting to survive as a nation. This story doesn’t hit the headlines in Ukraine; I think it’s normal.

But what you see in Europe, militaries like NATO realize that they contribute a lot to climate change. One of my latest conferences was in June in Oslo, about European defense, where several militaries came together to discuss how they can reduce the environmental impact of what they do. Climate change was one of the main topics. They agree to start working on decarbonization, reducing emissions. So it is getting there.

Another interesting impact of wars is that the war also changed supply lines in the world.

russia closed its airspace above Siberia for Western airplanes. If you fly from London to Tokio, it normally takes 11 hours, but now airlines take completely different routes over Canada, which makes the flight 4 hours longer, meaning more kerosine, more CO2 emissions. We are working on getting more precise numbers of the impact on aviation.

It has parallels with conflicts around the world. For example, houthis are attacking ships in the Red Sea. A lot of marine transport is avoiding the Red Sea; it has to detour Africa, meaning more diesel and more emissions.

After the War

What impact are you expecting from your studies?

The most significant impact would be to hold the russian federation accountable for those emissions. That is a long shot. The legal system works slowly, and it would be particularly for this case. There is no precedent. It will definitely take years. But when it happens, it will show to the world that anyone will be responsible in case of this part of aggression — environmental crime.

A study published in Nature describes the total damage caused by every ton of CO2 emitted to the atmosphere: 185 US dollars. If we consider 175 million tons of CO2, we are talking about damage of almost 33 billion US dollars. This damage will happen somewhere in the world. We don’t know when or where, but it will happen.

That is the compensation we are anticipating from russia.

The idea is that part of the money goes to Ukraine to recover, for example, by replanting the forests that went up on fire because of the shelling. Also, for the reconstruction of buildings, by using less fossil fuels, less steel, but more climate-friendly materials.

The other part should go to the Global South — the developing countries impacted by climate change to improve water management, for example.  

You in Ukraine have such a strong civil society. Once this horrible war is over, reconstruction will be done in a way that is thought-through.

Civil society organizations should be very loud to the government about how to work on it. There will be a lot of money coming from the West to help Ukraine recover, but it is your role as a civil society to make sure this money is well spent.

It will not be easy, but I’m confident you will do it right in a sustainable way. You are tough cookies.

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

Main image: Lennard de Klerk. Source: Ministry of Ministry of Environmental Protection and Natural Resources of Ukraine

“On February 22, 2022, we were in the park on an expedition. We had come to study the population of the Red Data Book species, Crocus reticulatus. It was so quiet,” recalls Oleksandr Khodosovtsev, an employee of the Kamianska Sich National Nature Park. “That was the first time we recorded a white-tailed eagle in the park, and by evening, we reached Puhach Cape. Around 4 o’clock, we set off for Kherson. Only 36 hours remained until the full-scale invasion.”

The invaders entered Kamianska Sich on March 9. After nine months, the Ukrainian Armed Forces drove them out of the steppe in the northern Kherson region, but the park remains under threat from russian forces on the left bank of the Dnipro. Enemy drones hover over the area, and combat engineers are clearing mines by the hundreds.

The park also bears the scars of the destruction of the Kakhovka Hydroelectric Power Plant dam, as part of the former Kakhovka Reservoir’s water area used to be part of Kamianska Sich.

How has the war altered the landscape, and how does it continue to influence it?  What is happening in this nature park under constant fire? UAnimals Media spoke to the park’s researchers, who initiated its creation — Ivan Moisiyenko and Oleksandr Khodosovtsev. Both are professors at the Department of Botany at Kherson State University.

A Diversity of the Steppes

Most of Ukraine’s steppe reserves are located on the left bank of the Dnipro River and in the south. Kamianska Sich, on the other hand, preserves steppe ecosystems on the right bank in the northern part of the Kherson region. And what a steppe it is!

“This is an area of true, or temperate, steppe,” explains Ivan Moisiyenko. However, it’s not just that. On the south-facing slopes, there are fragments of desert steppe. Its natural zone in Ukraine stretches as a thin strip along the Black Sea. In addition, the park hosts species from the meadow steppes of the forest-steppe zone, such as Stipa tirsa and the European feather grass.

“Desert steppes are located 150 kilometers to the south, while the forest-steppe lies about 200 kilometers to the north. Yet all of these are present in Kamianska Sich! This is truly a unique diversity of steppes,” summarizes Ivan Moisiyenko.

The botanist is also proud of his discovery in the park: “During an expedition, I spotted an unusual grass. It turned out to be Psathyrostachys juncea. This is only the fourth recorded site in Ukraine and the first on the right bank of the Dnipro. Usually, Psathyrostachys juncea is found in the semi-deserts of Kazakhstan.”

Overall, about 500 plant species grow in the park, 10% of which are protected.

Why has the steppe survived here? Parts of it were once used as sheep pastures, so they were never plowed. The broad Mylivska and Kamianska ravines, with their limestone slopes where the Kamianka River once A meander is a curve in the channel of a river.meandered, also remained untouched. Ivan Moisiyenko and Oleksandr Khodosovtsev proposed to the government that this area be designated a protected nature reserve. They had been studying the steppe long before the park was finally officially established in 2019. Ivan recalls, “At first, the steppe seemed just vast. But as we started studying it, we discovered it was also incredibly rich!” And not just plant-wise. 

“That Mole Vole Ruined All Our Excavations!”

“Archaeologists were excavating a Late Scythian settlement. The site was riddled with holes, like Swiss cheese. They asked, ‘What’s been digging around here?’” Ivan Moisiyenko remembers when he was surveying the future park’s territory. The culprit was the endangered northern mole vole. “That mole vole of yours ruined all our excavations!” the archaeologists complained.

Kamianska Sich is home to a large population of mole voles, a small rodent that spends most of its life underground, feeding on the roots of plants. In Ukraine, it is classified as an endangered species.

Another creature that troubles archaeologists is the solifuge, a member of the arachnid family. “This unique species comes to us from the east, from Crimea, and can be found in Kamianska Sich. They look quite terrifying as they scuttle about!” Ivan says. “We had to hide from those solifuges during our expedition in Kazakhstan. They were huge, running around at night. I even saw them in Morocco. And now they’re here in Sich!”

Ivan Moisiyenko first encountered the solifuge in the Kherson region in 2017, and it was, without exaggeration, the meeting of the century. Together with his Polish colleagues, he documented the find in the Ukrainian Entomological Journal. While preparing the academic paper, they unearthed records showing that solifuges were last seen in the Kherson Governorate in 1886-1887. No one had seen them since — until 130 years later when a solifuge was encountered near Kamianska Sich!

The Park After the Invasion

The park was liberated from russian forces on November 10, 2022. On December 1, 2022, Ivan Moisiyenko and Oleksandr Khodosovtsev made their first visit back to the park after its liberation. They were greeted by tons of trash left behind by the invaders.

“We had heard about the ‘love for cleanliness’ of the russian military, but seeing it in person… It was shocking. There was an enormous amount of household waste; about 300 tons were removed from the park,” Oleksandr recounts. Nothing remained of the park’s property — its administrative building was in ruins. During the occupation, the russians took everything: office equipment, vehicles, and boats.

During their first visit, the researchers inspected the steppe slopes of the Mylivska ravine. On their second attempt to access the same area, the military blocked them, as the site had been remotely mined with “butterfly” mines, Oleksandr explains: “It’s still inaccessible because no one has cleared these butterflies.’”

On June 30, the scientists descended to the bottom of the former Kakhovka Reservoir for the first time. “The water had receded more than 10 meters vertically. It was like some kind of Martian landscape,” recalls Oleksandr.

Another remarkable discovery was the reappearance of the Kamianka River, which had existed in this area until 1956 and now flows again through the steppe. In the 18th century, a Cossack fortress called the Kamianska Sich is an administrative and military centre of the Zaporizhian Cossacks.Kamianska Sich, which gave the park its name, stood along its banks.

“Before, we studied nature. I [focused on] lichens while Ivan [studied] plants,” Oleksandr says. “We never thought we’d end up studying the impact of war on the environment. But from our first expedition [after the invasion], that’s exactly what we started doing.”

What Is Impacting the Park’s Ecosystem?

·       ALTERED LANDSCAPE

Explosions in the steppe have left craters—areas of Bombturbation is the disturbance of soil caused by explosions.bombturbation. russian forces also dug trenches and other fortifications on the slopes of the ravines. “The worst part is that a few trenches were dug directly in the untouched, virgin steppe within the protected zone. There aren’t many, but they’re there,” Oleksandr explains.

These fortifications alter the landscape of the flat steppe. Weeds quickly take over these depressions, making it difficult for steppe plants to grow.

“And it’s also a trap for animals. Burrowing animals dig into the trenches, fall in, and can’t get out — both insects and rodents. In Kamianska Sich, even a roe deer fell into a trench and died,” adds Ivan Moisiyenko.

According to park employees, restoring the steppe will require human assistance. Trenches need to be filled in layers: soil on top and limestone on the bottom. Seeds of steppe plants should be sown into the ground. However, this can only be done after complete demining.

·     MINES

“The impact of mining on nature is minimal. In some cases, you could even say it’s positive, mostly for the plant cover, since people can no longer access these areas for illegal activities. It provides temporary extra protection for the reserve,” Oleksandr explains.

However, in mined areas, no field research or monitoring can be conducted — only remote observations are possible. In addition, animals can trigger mines. Mines also cause chemical contamination of the soil that can persist for decades.

The park is being demined by its director, Serhiy Skoryk, along with six volunteer employees who underwent training to become deminers. They carry out the demining work partly on their own and partly in collaboration with the Ukrainian Armed Forces.

As of early September, 639 TM-62 anti-tank mines were discovered and neutralized in the park. The workers handed them over to the National Police of Ukraine’s Tsunami assault regiment, which is part of the separate Liut (Fury) assault brigade. These munitions will be used to liberate the left bank of the Kherson region.

·     FIRES

“Fires that occur once every 5-10 years can even benefit the steppe, but frequent fires are harmful,” says Ivan. “Grassy plants generally aren’t affected by the fires; they have underground bulbs that allow them to regenerate the following year. However, shrubs suffer because their regenerative buds are located above the ground.”

According to the scientist, fires don’t cause catastrophic damage to the steppe itself. However, the frequency of fires has exceeded the “safe” limit. The area is constantly burning due to artillery fire or explosives from drones. While the park recorded only three fires in 2021, there were 26 in 2022, 34 in 2023, and more than 30 already in 2024, with the total expected to surpass 50 by the end of the year.

Oleksandr says that fire and heat affect different elements of the Lithophytes are plants that can grow on stones without soil cover. biotopes in various ways. He studies lichens: “If lichens are exposed to thermal radiation from an explosion in the early morning when everything is moist, they will die. We studied one such explosion site and found that within a 100-meter radius of the epicenter, the trees were alive, but the lichens on them had perished.”

On the other hand, lichens that grow on limestone are incredibly resilient. “We examined a crater in the rocky steppe after a Grad [rocket] hit and just a meter from the explosion’s epicenter, we found live lichens on the stones,” Oleksandr explains.

·    DAM DESTRUCTION

“In any case, the biggest impact on the park’s ecosystems came from the destruction of the [Kakhovka Hydroelectric Power Plant] dam,” Oleksandr Khodosovtsev asserts. The landscape has since changed, and scientists now face the question: what will become of this territory? It was a disaster for aquatic ecosystems, which have simply disappeared. “However, the recovery of terrestrial ecosystems on the former Kakhovka Reservoir’s bed is happening at a rapid pace,” Oleksandr adds.

Many have heard of the willow thickets that have sprouted from the silt on the former reservoir bed. Even botanists did not expect nature to recover at such a pace. “But the slopes covered in meters-thick layers of dead shells are slow to regrow,” says Ivan Moisiyenko.

In his view, the spread of steppe vegetation to the slopes is being hindered by a strip of willows and reeds that grew along the former shoreline. Still, Ivan is confident that a so-called Lithophytes are plants that can grow on stones without soil cover. lithophytic steppe will eventually form on the shell deposits: “This is an ideal environment for such steppes. There’s no doubt that they will recover; it will just take time. If the war ended, we could launch a project to restore the lithophytic steppe.” This would involve mowing steppe plants and scattering hay with seeds onto the shell deposits. Otherwise, weeds will take hold first, slowing the steppe’s recovery.

In 2024, botanists visited the bed of the former Kakhovka Reservoir in the Zaporizhzhia region. The area was vast: the distance to the left bank was 15 kilometers. According to the researchers, the situation in the natural environment there is similar to that in Kamianska Sich.

It turns out that the willow thickets will soon become a forest. Previously, these thickets were only called a forest metaphorically, as a true forest has different layers. Now, those layers are beginning to form. Ivan explains: “This year, we observed a more complex plant structure and the development of layers. The tallest willows have risen above the herb layer — this is now the shrub layer; bryophytes have appeared, forming the moss-lichen layer. In our classification, plants taller than 5 meters fall into the tree layer. Next year, the tree layer will definitely appear, and a forest will have formed.”

The number of plant species on the former reservoir bed has also increased. During the first expedition, 11 species were recorded. During the second, 69 species were found, and in the third expedition to the Zaporizhzhia region, around 30 more species were discovered. In total, more than 100 species of plants have appeared in the area within a year.

Additionally, a protected species, rye sedge, was found on the former bed for the first time. “This indicates that the plant cover is acquiring conservation value,” says Ivan.

“They Directed Fire at Us”

Near Kamianska Sich, the Dnipro River is 4-5 kilometers wide, with its narrowest point being just 3 kilometers and 300 meters across. “You can see people walking [on the other shore] through binoculars,” says Ivan Moisiyenko. This area is easily reachable by russian drones and artillery, which regularly bombard the park. Despite this, the park’s security service and its director, Serhiy Skoryk, remain on-site, demining the area, monitoring fires, and keeping an eye on the water bodies.

Even in demined areas, research is impossible due to the threat from russian drones. Oleksandr Khodosovtsev recalls an incident in October 2023 when a reconnaissance drone hovered over him: “They directed fire at us. Five minutes after we moved away, they fired three mortar shells at that spot.” FPV drones, which are now frequently used, can be almost undetectable, and there isn’t always enough time to react. “The only defense against them is EW stands for electronic warfare measures that can jam drones.EW, but you can’t stay in a vehicle all the time — you’ll need to step out into nature. To properly document the vegetation on a monitoring plot, you need an hour. In that time, enemy drones will definitely spot you.” As for zoologists, they haven’t even been able to conduct research in the park, as their tasks require significantly more time.

At this point, the researchers are not only focusing on nature but have also begun collecting data on human activity. This includes the memories of park employees—nature protection inspectors — who, during the occupation, assisted the Ukrainian Armed Forces in destroying a significant amount of enemy equipment.

The botanists are also searching for information about the first Ukrainian soldiers who entered Kamianska Sich after its liberation. Oleksandr explains: “We want to learn the names of the fallen Ukrainian heroes who were the first to step onto the park’s steppe slopes and honor their memory. Unfortunately, their vehicle hit a mine, and they all perished.”

Reaching the Old Riverbed

Ivan Moisiyenko and Oleksandr Khodosovtsev are determined to continue their research, and they remain hopeful that, despite current conditions, they will be able to work directly in Kamianska Sich. So far, they have managed to visit the northern edges of two ravines, which were previously inlets of the Kakhovka Reservoir. Now, they aim to reach the Dnipro River’s course.

“I think Ivan Ivanovych [Moisiyenko] and I will experience a new emotional surge when we finally reach the Dnipro’s shore in Kamianska Sich,” says Oleksandr.

The researchers are particularly eager to reach the Dnipro’s original bank, which existed before 1956 and is now once again in its original location. They hope to explore the main riverbed and observe the liberated left bank of the Kherson region from the right side of the Dnipro. 

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

Budum… Budum… Budum… A white minibus crawls through 300-year-old pine trees. This is the Lithuanian forest in the Hetman National Nature Park. Before it became a protected area, the place was rife with poaching—electrofishing, nets, and 12-gauge hunting rifles.

Later, when the area became a nature reserve, some locals wrote letters to then-President Yanukovych, urging the park to be dissolved. “In a few years, you won’t have anywhere to graze your cows because this land will be privatized, and the fields will be plowed,” the deputy head of the environmental education department recalls telling them. Over time, the locals grew accustomed to the rules. Perhaps, because fines increased tenfold.

Trrr… The head of the Hetman Park’s state protection service stops his car. He needs to inspect the area. He parks at a recreational site with gazebos, tables, and swings. In the past, people from Sumy, Poltava, and Kharkiv would come here to breathe the fresh air. Now, only park staff can enjoy this privilege, as visiting the forests is prohibited. At the beginning of the full-scale war, the park was under russian occupation for nearly a month, and it is potentially contaminated with explosives. While sappers have not yet inspected the area, park scientists have already begun their work.

Nature Adapts

Mykola Hryhorovych points his camera at a fragment in a fallen tree trunk. Nearby, there is a crater from an airstrike that took place back in February 2022. He tilts his head back to observe the tree tops. On one side of the clearing, death has passed through—burned, decayed, dead branches. On the other side, green and living pines. This contrast reveals the wind’s direction on the day of the raid—northern, as the southern side of the trees suffered the most.

Mykola Hryhorovych is the newly appointed head of the park’s research department. Previously, he taught at the Sumy National Agricultural University’s ecology department and brought students here to study the species composition of plants. Now, he and his colleague, entomologist Oleksandr Volodymyrovych, are examining a crater left by a shell.

He scrapes the soil and puts samples into small jars. These are samples for monitoring, which will show the impact of the war on nature. However, it’s too early to draw conclusions now, as changes in the soil might only appear over time. In 20-30 years, a full atomic spectral analysis will be conducted to understand which elements migrate from the soil to the plants.

But now a brief inspection reveals that the plants are determined to overcome difficulties and changes. Birch and pine trees are already regenerating. Perhaps they were growing here before the shelling, and the explosion failed to completely destroy their roots. Or maybe a bird dropped a cone, leading to the growth of new trees. Moss, the first “settler,” is also taking root here. This change in the ecosystem is known as succession. Sometimes, its manifestations can be quite unpredictable.

“How did a marsh species end up here?” Mykola Hryhorovych wonders as he examines a reed stalk and narrowleaf cattail inside the crater. “Maybe the rains helped… but I don’t think there’s been been much rainfall.”

Mykola Hryhorovych calls Oleksandr Volodymyrovych for help. The entomologist dismisses it, saying that it is just moisture that had accumulated. After all, an entomologist is more interested in insects. He pokes the soil with a stick and notices wasp burrows. Striped insects burrow into the sandy slopes, where they breed. With each new crater from a shell, the population of wasps and bees increases. 

There is even a tarantula burrow in one of the craters. But it is not just insects that inhabit these war-created apartments.

Mykola Hryhorovych kneels in another crater and peers into a black hole under charred branches. A fox has made its home here and recently gave birth to a litter. A few meters away, there should be another hole through which the animals can escape in emergencies. He looks out of the crater, scanning the surroundings, but can’t find the emergency exit. He sets off to search, overcoming obstacles—fallen and broken trees—but doesn’t find the desired passage. The foxes have hidden their escape route well, away from prying eyes.

Instead, Mykola Hryhorovych notices something else. Near the charred tree stump that was at the center of the explosion, crustose lichens are appearing. The farther from the explosion site, the more visible these plants become. This, he says, is a good sign—the air is becoming cleaner. In fact, there is an entire branch of science that evaluates environmental conditions based on crustose lichens—Lichenoindication . But there aren’t enough hands to engage in this work here, another consequence of the war.

How the Big is Captivated by the Small

“Look at the beautiful admiral flying!” — Oleksandr Volodymyrovych spotted a butterfly.

A man nearly two meters [~6.7 feet] tall studies small insects. Oleksandr Volodymyrovych has been working as an entomologist at Hetman Park for seven years. Together with his colleagues, he observed that three years before the full-scale invasion, butterflies migrated from Crimea to the forest-steppe here. The entomologist believes that global warming likely played a role.

Research on insects in the park also led to the discovery of new species. In 2014, a unique species of leaf-miner flies was found here—Ophiomyia adunca Guglya, named in honor of Kharkiv scientist Yuliya Guglya.

So, as soon as the city of Trostianets was liberated, Oleksandr Volodymyrovych hurried back to the fields—hoping there were new discoveries waiting to be made. He wrote to the military administration, asking for permission to use lights during nighttime research. He explained that it was necessary to monitor the insect population. Of course, one could chase insects with a net instead of using light, but Oleksandr Volodymyrovych wasn’t quite in shape for that anymore.

The military hesitated for a long time, as active fighting had ended only two months earlier. Eventually, they granted permission, chose a safe spot, and left the researchers for the whole night. That night, the forest near the village of Zhuravne was quiet, save for the buzzing of insects. They flocked to the lamp, and the scientist described every species he saw.

Before the war, there were five such expeditions a year, but now, a single one is considered a blessing. Many scientists have joined the military, and some are reluctant to venture into the field due to safety concerns. They say that even in the most remote areas of the park, near Poltava, there could still be explosives.

Saved by Ancient Oak Trees

Today, some former employees who now serve in the Armed Forces of Ukraine visited the park. Among them was Oleksandr, who had been steadily climbing the career ladder since 2013 and, just before the full-scale war, held the position of a leading wildlife protection engineer. He used to catch poachers and conduct raids. But after February 24, 2022, his duties changed: instead of chasing poachers, he now had to chase russians through the forest.

In the first days of the full-scale invasion, Oleksandr evacuated his family to Poltava and returned to defend his home. He called his friends to meet and head into the city together. Trostianets had already been occupied, so the only way to get there was via forest paths not even locals always knew.

It was on these paths that Oleksandr and his friends encountered soldiers from the Kholodnyi Yar 93rd Brigade. They introduced themselves and agreed to show the brigade every passage into the city and the locations of the russians. They lived together in the ravines, planning surprise attacks on the invaders. However, the generals repeatedly postponed the assault.

During the day, the temperature hovered around 0°C [32°F], but at night, it dropped to -17°C [1.4°F]. The soldiers had no sleeping bags, and they couldn’t light fires. They sat freezing under ancient oaks with thick canopies. The russians bombarded them with shells, and many exploded in the branches. In a way, the park protected the soldiers.

Finally, on March 21, the assault began. The russians scattered in all directions, falling into classic hunting ambushes. That day, Oleksandr received seven shrapnel wounds and ended up in a hospital. After a few months, he recovered and fully mobilized into the army. Now, he beams with joy when he talks about shooting down Shahed UAVs at night, “We took down eight today.” 

However, the drones don’t always burn up in the air—they often fall into forests, where they start fires that can smolder for days, or even weeks.

Currently, smoke still rises from the area in Hetman Park where a Shahed drone crashed into the peatlands. Thick soil, fallen trees, and the stench of burning linger. The drone went down about two weeks ago. For the military, the priority is human life, and only after that comes nature. This particular Shahed could have reached its target—who knows what that might have been. Perhaps, an ordinary residential building or yet another hospital.

“The park will recover on its own, and we will help it,” says Oleksandr. “You can plant trees, and in 30 years they’ll grow—but it doesn’t work that way with human life.”

Life Has Changed

Before February 24, 2022, when Oleksandr was not yet a soldier, he often walked his dog in the park. His energetic dog would race through the forest for 40 minutes, rest, and then start running in circles again. Now, such activities are too dangerous. In the spring, after the de-occupation, many animals—foxes, hares, and dogs—were killed by tripwire mines. These days, Oleksandr’s dog sees only the confines of his own yard. “I don’t know where to walk my dog in Trostianets,” says the soldier. “The dog’s going to go mad in that kennel.”

The war has also affected the lives of wild animals—both birds and large mammals. Some have been forced to migrate to quieter areas, while others flee from the explosions even into human hands.

After the occupation, wolf tracks were spotted on the outskirts of Trostianets. Oleksandr suggests that the wolves likely migrated from the russian border or the Donetsk region, where intense fighting is currently raging. Previously, wolves were just occasional visitors to Hetman Park—passing through maybe once every two years.

Even on duty, the soldier has seen wild animals: several herds of wild boars ventured onto a mine-laden field. His colleague Maksym, who worked in the park’s tourism and ecology department before being mobilized, shared a story about encountering a lynx. He was stationed in the Chernihiv region with his brothers-in-arms, digging trenches, when suddenly a lynx strolled into their position and arrogantly laid down on a bench. The soldiers were scared, “Commander, should we shoot it? What if it jumps on one’s head—scary stuff.” Maksym wouldn’t allow it. The lynx thanked them for their humane decision by not harming either him or his subordinates. That was the end of the encounter.

“Animals are getting used to the explosions and are more at ease than before the war,” says Maksym. “This is because there are no poachers or hunters now.”

Nature adapts, despite everything, as long as it’s left in peace.

The head of the park’s protection service pulls out a gondola—or rather, an inflatable boat—and sets off on an inspection tour along the Vorskla River. The river has shallowed this year, and only the fry are racing about. Driftwood, submerged yesterday, now fascinates with its shapes on dry land. Still, some remain underwater. The somber man pushes through the trees and thorny branches, finally emerging into the “open sea.” The Vorskla remains silent and resting. It feels as though peace is possible, and life is slowly returning here. The nearest frontline is less than 100 kilometers [~62 miles] from Hetman Park.

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

At least $600 billion is the estimated cost of damage to Ukraine’s protected areas and biodiversity caused by russia’s invasion, according to the Ministry of Environmental Protection and Natural Resources. However, the real loss far exceeds monetary value. It includes countless dead animals, devastated ecosystems, and stolen beloved places—places dear to each and every Ukrainian.

In this article, Ukrainian opinion leaders share their favorite places, which, because of russia, we have either lost or are losing right now.

Sasha Tab’s Crimea

“At Cape Aya near Sevastopol, I first saw bioluminescent plankton. We swam at night, and I couldn’t believe my eyes—my hands turned into some sort of neon light. These are incredible memories! Sadly, I haven’t seen this magical plankton again,” recalls Sasha Tab, vocalist of the band Kalush Orchestra.

Sasha was fortunate to visit Crimea several times in his youth, traveling to Yalta, Partenit, Koktebel, Hurzuf, Feodosia, and Kaihador (then known as Ordzonikidze).

The damage inflicted on Crimea’s unique nature by russians during the 10-year occupation is hard to assess. However, it’s known that military drills involving missile launches and bomb drops are conducted in the Opuk Nature Reserve. Additionally, illegal sand extraction has flooded about 10 hectares of the Bakalska Spit Regional Landscape Park. 

Many other russian crimes against nature likely remain undocumented, and we may only confront their consequences once Crimea is liberated.

“My best memories are about Crimea,” Sasha Tab says. “The younger guys in my band have never been there. That’s unfortunate. But I hope we’ll still have a chance to see these places.”

Nataliya Zhyzhchenko’s Chornobyl

“The last time I visited Chornobyl was April 26, 2021, at 1:23 a.m.—precisely on the anniversary of the disaster. I was there with the plant workers, and I brought my father. We visited the Shelter Structure and honored the memory of those who perished,” shares ONUKA lead singer Nataliya Zhyzhchenko.

From a young age, Nataliya was familiar with the details of the Chornobyl catastrophe because her father worked as a liquidator at the plant from 1986 to 1988.

“There’s history here, lessons to be learned, and sadly, they are repeating. Chornobyl has always been a source of pain for me, but also inspiration and awe.”

Nataliya has been to the Chornobyl zone about 20 times, doing internships at the power plant, filming documentaries, modeling for Vogue, and composing songs. As she puts it, Chornobyl allowed her to escape people and recharge.

After almost four decades of recovery, nature in the Chornobyl zone is once again under threat, this time from russia’s full-scale invasion. In 2022, Ukraine’s State Nuclear Regulatory Inspectorate recorded elevated gamma radiation levels, likely caused by russian military vehicles stirring up radioactive dust.

“The nature there is unique,” says Nataliya. “The reserve is extraordinary because of the absence of humans and the environmental condition. When I was there, I saw a fox on the streets of Prypiat. I saw a moose and her calves when I stopped the car by the roadside. She looked directly into my eyes, assessed the situation, and simply walked away. Everyone [in the car] held their breath.”

The exclusion zone is home to many animals, including deer, roe deer, wolves, raccoons, wild boars, storks, lynxes, and bears. In total, over 300 species of vertebrates live in the area, 75 of which are listed in Ukraine’s Red Data Book of Ukraine.

“After all the harm humanity has inflicted on this area, it’s hard to imagine how else we could damage it. Nature will overcome this too. It will forgive this too. Unfortunately, but also, in a way, fortunately,” concludes Nataliya.

Anton Ptushkin’s Tuzly Lagoons

Blogger Anton Ptushkin’s memories of the Tuzly Lagoons are quite recent. In August 2022, he began filming a documentary there about animals during the full-scale war.

“We were filming the mass death of dolphins and cetaceans due to russian aggression,” Anton recounts. “I saw dead dolphins with my own eyes, lying on the shore.”

The Tuzly Lagoons, a group of saltwater lagoons [lymans in Ukrainian] in the southern Odesa region, are home to dozens of bird species, including some that are endangered. Despite the grim circumstances, Anton was struck by the beauty of the area. He was particularly amazed by the pelicans, noting he had never seen so many of them before.

This part of the Black Sea is also home to porpoises, one of the smallest cetacean species, including a unique subspecies known as the Azov porpoise [Phocoena phocoena relicta], which inhabits Ukrainian waters.

The natural park has been under enemy fire, with fragments of russian missiles found there. Anton was joined by a prosecutor investigating crimes against Ukraine’s ecosystem, who conducted autopsies on the animals to send samples to Germany and Italy to determine the cause of death.

“The park’s director, who has studied cetaceans for many years, believes that sonars and missile launches caused the mass deaths of dolphins,” Anton adds.

Anhelina Usanova’s Askania-Nova

“When I think of my time at Askania-Nova, I remember its peaceful atmosphere. But now, it’s far from a place of relaxation and connection with nature,” says Miss Eco International 2024 Anhelina Usanova.

She visited the reserve as a child during a nearby camp stay. She recalls reading about Przewalski’s horses and being determined to see them. Though she didn’t spot the horses, she saw many other exotic animals, including Caffra buffaloes, Chapman’s zebras, Père David’s deer, and American bison.

Today, these animals’ lives are in danger. We have previously reported on the fires in Askania-Nova, the largest occurring on August 22 and September 1, 2023. These fires destroyed plants listed in Ukraine’s Green Data Book. Since the start of the war, over 5,500 hectares of the reserve—nearly one-fifth of its territory—have burned.

Askania-Nova’s director, Viktor Shapoval, reported that three Caffra buffaloes died because the occupation administration failed to move them to winter quarters in time. Additionally, endangered species are illegally taken from the reserve to russia and Crimea, often to worse conditions where they lack the freedom they enjoyed in Askania-Nova.

A comprehensive assessment of the impact of russian occupation on the reserve’s ecosystem will only be possible after its liberation. After Ukraine’s victory, Anhelina plans to join a volunteer mission there.

“Our land will need a lot of work to restore everything, especially places as incredible as Askania-Nova. Its value cannot be measured in money, it is simply priceless,” she says.

Olha Martynovska’s Kinburn Spit 

“As a student, we used to vacation in Kobleve and Ochakiv, coastal towns near Mykolaiv. The Kinburn Spit was something like a foreign country for us, something exotic,” recalls Olha Martynovska, judge of the culinary show MasterChef.

One day, she and her classmates went to the spit that so “tenderly and delicately enters the open sea.” 

“After that, I had many foreign countries, islands, peninsulas, oceans, and seas, but this first one was like my first love. It stays forever, and the Kinburn Spit is a place of power for me.”

Now, Kinburn Spit is part of the russian-occupied territory, from which the mainland of Ukraine is regularly shelled. Fires frequently break out on the peninsula, and according to local residents, the invaders prohibit extinguishing them. Anticipating the advance of the Ukrainian Armed Forces, russians have mined the spit, posing a threat to wildlife.

“When Ukraine liberates Kinburn Spit, I’ll go searching for the roe deer and hares I used to see there,” Olha shares her plans.

Polina Uvarova’s Kyianytsia

“I remember how in Kyianytsia, you could hear the birds’ songs so well that we would stop just to listen. Now, alongside the birds, KABs and Shaheds fly,” says travel blogger Polina Uvarova.

Kyianytsia is a small village in the Sumy region, just 30 kilometers from the russian border. Polina and her friends used to love visiting Kyianytsia to enjoy nature and tranquility.

“There’s a stunning architectural monument there—Kyianytsia Palace—and the nature is just incredibly beautiful,” she recalls.

The forest, with its many streams, abundant wildlife, and picturesque lake, is how Polina remembers this place. But now, due to constant shelling, locals no longer travel to Kyianytsia to unwind.

“After the victory, I’d love to return and walk the same paths. I’d look for the springs and stroll by the lake. I’d go to the local store, buy some coffee, sit by the lake with an ice cream, and just soak in the energy of this place,” she says.

Sasha Shabalina’s Dzharylhach

“Dzharylhach is a place that russia has stolen from me,” says comedian Sasha Shabalina. Dzharylhach Island is the largest island in Ukraine and the Black Sea. Sasha visited it in the summer of 2020. “YouTube convinced me to go to Dzharylhach: there were so many videos calling it the ‘Ukrainian Maldives.’ The videos showed crystal-clear water and wild animals.”

Sasha decided to go and was amazed by the natural beauty and the peacefulness of the wildlife. Right after arriving with her friends, they spotted a dolphin playing near the shore.

“There was this feeling that we were guests, and the true hosts—the animals—were nearby, so we had to behave respectfully. For the first time, I saw how people can show respect for both nature and each other.”

Since the beginning of the invasion, the russians have occupied Dzharylhach. Since then, the local ecosystem has been fighting for survival, as the russians are now using the island as a firing range. In August 2023, a fire raged on Dzharylhach for a week in the part of the island home to rare species. Endangered animals such as the steppe viper and the unique empusa fasciata, a type of praying mantis that can mimic a drop of water, were at risk from the flames.

Dzharylhach now faces the threat of being turned from a protected area into an industrial site and resort. In 2023, russian authorities permitted fishing, hunting, logging, and the extraction of clay, salt, oil, and natural gas. They also allowed the construction of hotels and restaurants in the national park. 

Additionally, the invaders built a land bridge between the mainland village of Lazurne and the island to facilitate access for military vehicles. Environmentalist and zoologist Pavlo Holdin explained that this artificial connection posed a threat to the Dzharylhach Bay ecosystem. Fortunately, the sea washed away the land bridge during a powerful storm.

“I think I would have removed that bridge with my own hands. It is ecocide,” Sasha Shabalina says in frustration. “I really want to believe that nature will heal itself. Since learning about the occupation of Dzharylhach, I’ve been dreaming of all the animals rising up to defeat the invaders, just like in the movie Jumanji.”

Cover Photo: Nataliya Zhyzhchenko in the Chornobyl Zone. Source: ONUKA archive and Vogue Ukraine.

Banner Photo: Animal autopsy in the Tuzly Lagoons. Source: Anton Ptushkin’s personal archive.

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

We meet Leonid Myslyvets, the mayor of Oster, on the banks of the Desna, near the rescue station. He spreads a map of the community over the car hood to show the length of the riverbed—from the village of Bilyky in the north to Krekhaiv in the south, covering over 50 kilometers. Almost every day, rescuers go out on the water here to check if any dead fish have appeared along the shores.

Black Water

Oster lies on the Desna, halfway between Kyiv and Chernihiv. By car, it takes about 1.5 to 2 hours to reach from either city. Just south of the town is the Beremytske Nature Park, where green tourism had been promoted before the full-scale war. However, the russian invasion, followed by russia’s poisoning of the Seym and Desna rivers, significantly reduced the flow of visitors.

The pollution of the Seym in the Sumy region began around August 14, when the first reports of deteriorating water quality emerged. By September, it had reached the Chernihiv region. Social media was flooded with photos and videos showing hundreds, if not thousands, of dead fish along the riverbanks. There were fears that the contaminated water could even reach Kyiv.

From mid-August to mid-September, local authorities and volunteers in the Sumy and Chernihiv regions collected nearly 40 tons of dead fish.

“The poisoned water reached us on September 12. At that time, we set up two small aeration stations along the shore, and from them, we placed tubes into the water—one 40 meters long, the other 70. We punched holes in the tubes, following advice from the department [Desna Basin Water Resources Management],” Leonid explains. “The water is gradually getting oxygenated: our divers went down there and said that fish gather near the oxygen sources to survive.”

We head down to the pier, where we can hear a buzzing sound. These aren’t russian Shahed drones that fly along the Desna at night. Near the water, there are two small pumps, each providing a flow of 400–450 liters [100-120 gallons] per minute. Tubes extend from the pumps into the water, and from the middle of the river, you can see bubbles being carried along by the current.

“The water still isn’t bright and clear enough, but on September 13, let’s say, it was like tar, and there was a dark residue along the banks. Now there’s much less of it. But if the situation worsens, we’ll install more aeration stations—we’ve already arranged with local businesses to add four more of varying capacities,” the mayor of Oster states.

While chatting, we put on life vests brought by Oleksiy, a rescuer. He helps us settle into a boat, starts the engine, and steers us to the middle of the river. We speed upstream. Both banks are empty. Occasionally, a solitary gull soars above the water, or a kite circles high in the sky.

“Fortunately, it didn’t come to a fish die-off in Oster. There’s a key indicator—the level of dissolved oxygen in the water. The normal value is 7 milligrams per cubic decimeter or higher. Ours dropped to 5, and below 4, fish begins to die. Another indicator is chemical oxygen demand, also measured in milligrams per cubic decimeter. The normal level is around 30, but ours reached 50 or more. I know that upstream, it could reach more than 100,” Leonid explains.

A drop in the first indicator and an increase in the second shows that a chemical reaction is consuming oxygen from the water. When fish start dying, they begin to decompose, which also requires oxygen.

“If there’s a fish die-off, they need to be collected quickly. We were prepared for this and are still ready because we read reports of more pollution being dumped into the Seym. The rescue station has six boats and nets to retrieve the dead fish. Even some locals have offered to help. So, I hope we’re ready if it comes to that,” says Leonid.

We approach the boundary of the community along the river. No dead fish are visible along the shores. Currently, in Oster and throughout the Desna and Seym, there is a ban on using the water for any purpose, swimming or fishing. But this doesn’t stop the locals. As we moved upstream, we saw several fishermen: one casting from a boat and two others from the shore. When they noticed us, they pretended they were just relaxing and that the rods and reels weren’t theirs.

“What can you do about them?” Oleksiy chuckles. “Some people just don’t care about bans. I hope they don’t get poisoned. At least at the market, they try to control the sale of dead fish. But how do you control it on the river? Sure, we go out every day, travel upstream. But we can’t be going back and forth all day,” the rescuer complains.

Oleksiy steers our boat into an old part of the riverbed—the natural course of the Desna. The one we had traveled earlier was dug during Soviet times. The Desna, though navigable, was too winding, so they decided to dig a straighter course. During the fish die-off, the old channel became a refuge.

“The fish sought refuge in the old riverbed, these backwaters, to survive. The water here was cleaner—people noticed that. You won’t see it now, though, because the water quality has improved,” explains Oleksiy, peering into the water. “Oh, beaver dens. I hope we haven’t disturbed them too much because beavers are the real masters here,” he adds as we turn back into the newer river channel.

On our way back, we spot tourists with a tent on one of the banks. Leonid remarks that these are the first he’s seen since the river pollution began. Before the full-scale war, up to 300-500 cars would pass through Beremytske Park, that is, its parking lot, every day.

“Usually, from late May to October, people would come to the Desna for camping. In the Oster area alone, there could be as many as 5,000 visitors during the season. Now, the shore is empty. As soon as the news of river contamination broke, people stopped coming,” Leonid explains.

We dock at the shore. The aeration stations are humming. The rescuers tell us that they keep running even during power outages, thanks to a dedicated generator.

How They Dispose of the Fish

The village of Slabyn, located 60 kilometers from Oster, is part of the neighboring Honcharivka community. We meet with the local elder, Serhiy Kraskov, also near the Desna. He’s currently giving an interview to British journalists.

Even though we’re standing on the steep right bank, the wind still carries the heavy, cloying stench of decay from the water. As soon as we descend, the smell hits us with full force. Dark patches are visible on the water, and along the shore, there are black streaks left by residue. However, there are almost no dead fish on the shore—they were mostly collected the day before. Nevertheless, among the shoreline vegetation, some dead crucian carp can still be seen, and a pike about a meter long lies nearby.

“The banks here are overgrown, so a lot of dead fish got stuck there. On Sunday, September 15, we walked along the shore and pulled them out with nets. We had people from the village council, the cultural center, and the medical outpost helping. There were also a few volunteers with boats—they took care of the opposite shore. That day, we gathered almost one and a half tons,” Serhiy recalls.

Simply discarding or burying the collected fish isn’t an option: the decomposition products could contaminate the soil and groundwater. Therefore, a special burial site is needed—a deep pit lined with concrete wells with a concrete bottom. These burial sites are sealed with a similar concrete cover and placed far from water sources and residential areas.

“In our community, there’s still a burial pit left from Soviet times, but it hasn’t been used since the 1980s. I remember talking about it with Chernihiv [the State Environmental Inspectorate in the Chernihiv region] when the foul water reached them, and they were also gathering dead fish,” says Serhiy.

We head out to see this burial pit. It’s a few dozen kilometers of driving along rough field roads. As the car bounces over the bumps, Serhiy continues talking about the die-off: many large fish perished. The biggest one he saw was a catfish about a meter long. They collected bream, crucian carp, and zander, and the most numerous were pikes.

“I don’t know how all this will recover. If both the large and small fish have died, who will lay the eggs? Unless we artificially restock. Plus, maybe something will come down from the upper Desna, where the poisoned water didn’t reach. But even if that happens, who can guarantee that this won’t happen again in a year or two? russia isn’t going anywhere,” Serhiy says in frustration.

We cross the highway connecting Kyiv and Chernihiv and head into dense wooded plantations between fields. In one of these plantations, we stop and get out. From there, we continue on foot along a packed dirt road leading to a deep pit. The closer we get, the stronger the stench becomes. The pit is about four meters deep, roughly the same width, and about ten meters long. If it weren’t for the two concrete wells, it could easily pass for a dugout for armored vehicles.

“Since September 13, I’ve been dealing with this burial pit. We urgently ordered concrete rings from a local business to line the wells. It turned out that in the forty years since it was last used, the burial pit had completely grown over with trees. There was no access, so we had to cut down some of them. Now, we need to lay an asphalt road here,” says Serhiy.

We approach the wells. One is empty, while the other is nearly full of bags sprinkled with chlorine. Despite the concrete lining, puddles are starting to form at the bottom of the pit—a result of the decomposition of the dead fish. The buzzing of green flies, seemingly thousands of them, is unbearable.

“Since we’re a starostat [an administrative unit headed by a starosta—a village elder], bureaucracy moves slowly here: we can’t make quick payments, especially on a Friday evening. But I’m grateful to the local businessmen who delivered the first three concrete rings already on Saturday. And on Monday, September 16, they brought three more. It was all based on trust—they trusted that we’d pay them later. But we needed to bury the fish immediately,” Serhiy explains.

The community ordered a second well just in case, anticipating a larger die-off. However, by September 17, the number of dead fish had decreased, so it wasn’t needed for now.

The filled well will eventually be sealed with a concrete cover and buried. A fence and warning signs will be placed around the perimeter of the burial site so that locals won’t accidentally unearth it a decade or two from now.

New Pollution Incident

On September 17, Serhiy Zhuk, the head of the Environmental Inspection in the Chernihiv region, told UAnimals media that the situation in the rivers of the Chernihiv region had finally improved: “The fish are no longer dying. I can say this because I personally walked along the banks. We still find dead fish, but these are ones that died 3-5 days ago, surfacing from the bottom or from under the roots. Of course, the Seym and Desna waters are still unsafe for swimming. Almost all life there has perished, and an unpleasant odor persists. However, the levels of oxygen, ammonium, and iron are normalizing.”

The Chernihiv and Sumy regions are still calculating the damages, which are currently estimated to be around 450 million hryvnias.

This environmental crime has clear russian involvement. The Department of Environmental Protection and Natural Resources of the Sumy Regional State Administration believes that wastewater from a sugar factory in the village of Tyotkino, in russia’s Kursk region, entered Ukrainian rivers. This conclusion was drawn after analyzing satellite images: they show that in early August, the wastewater accumulation basin at the factory was full, but by the second half of August (when reports of pollution in Ukrainian rivers emerged), it had emptied. Moreover, laboratory analysis of the water found substances “specific to sugar production.”

This is not the first time that russian activities have polluted Ukrainian rivers with wastewater. Oleksandr Yemets, a research associate at the Seymskiy Regional Landscape Park, recalled that this had happened at least twice before: in 2011, when an accident occurred at the treatment facilities in Kursk, and the dam near Tyotkino deliberately released polluted water into Ukraine, and again this year at the end of May. On those occasions, fish and crustaceans also perished. Each time, the incidents increased the risk of extinction for a unique species of the region, the Desman, which is on the Red List of endangered animals.

Unfortunately, this might not be the last such environmental crime. On September 16, the Ministry of Environmental Protection and Natural Resources reported further deterioration of water quality in the Seym. Samples taken in the village of Manukhivka (about three kilometers from the russian border) indicated a drop in oxygen levels. Once again, russia is the most likely source of this pollution. However, identifying the exact origin and cause of the contamination is difficult due to ongoing hostilities in the Kursk region, which borders Sumy.

As of September 25, polluted water reached Baturyn in the Chernihiv region. The dissolved oxygen level, as mentioned earlier, was less than one—ranging between 0.3 and 0.8 milligrams per cubic decimeter. In the Sumy region, between the villages of Mutyn and Ozarichi, the oxygen in the water was completely depleted. The next day, the situation in the Seym in the Chernihiv region worsened further.

The Ministry of Environmental Protection assures that this pollution incident is not as severe as the one in August, and the rivers should be able to recover more quickly. However, if a fish die-off occurs again, the border communities will once again have to collect the dead fish from the banks.

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

Russians are digging trenches in unique soils, planting explosives near endangered plants, conducting military drills in bird-nesting areas—they are committing environmental crimes in the Ukrainian nature reserve. Documenting each such incident is crucial to holding the invaders accountable.

Take this quiz to learn more about Ukraine’s protected areas and learn how to be aware and vigilant.

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

Cover photo: Nyzhniodniprovskyi National Nature Park. Photographer: Oleh Marchuk.

The Black and Azov Seas are home to three species of dolphins, each suffering in its own way due to russian aggression. What do we already know about how military actions affect them, and how can we help nature endure? Pavlo Holdin, a zoologist, ecologist, and expert on modern and extinct marine mammals, sheds light on these issues.

Currently, there are many conflicting reports regarding the number of dolphins killed since the full-scale invasion began. Some say 50,000, others mention 60,000 or more, while some believe these numbers are exaggerated. What do you think?

Any number mentioned right now—whether it is 10 dolphins or 100,000—has no scientific basis whatsoever. In 2019, Ukrainian researchers conducted an extensive aerial survey of the Black Sea. After the war, after our victory, we can fly again and cover all our waters, including those around Crimea. That will give us an idea of where dolphin populations have increased or decreased and how many remain in total, and then we can assess how many may have died. 

Until then, I believe it is premature to draw definitive conclusions. For now, the figures we [the Institute of Zoology of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine and the Ukrainian Scientific Center of Ecology of Sea] provide relate to the bodies of animals found onshore. Of course, this assessment can and should be supplemented in the future with ecological modeling and extrapolated to estimate total losses.

So, what confirmed data do we have?

In 2022, more than 900 cases of dolphin deaths were recorded in the Black Sea region. This includes Ukraine, Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey, and Georgia. Naturally, this does not cover all the incidents, but it is a starting point for analysis and modeling. 

It is also important to note that we only work with verified photos and video recordings of deceased dolphins. Whenever we receive such materials, we verify them to ensure they are not fake, as media reports have sometimes falsely claimed sightings of dead dolphins that turned out to be from different locations or times.

Can I assume that such disinformation, especially if coming from russians, aims to undermine and discredit ecocide documentation efforts?

I do not know. But if we look at the official russian discourse, they try to downplay the scale of the deaths and claim nothing is happening, even when a dolphin carcass washes ashore in the center of Sevastopol.

There is a significant difference between their official and unofficial narratives. Their only similarity is that both are lies.

Can we identify an event or series of events that are most likely causing dolphin deaths?

The only cautious conclusion I can make is that the animals are dying for various reasons. It is unlikely we’ll find that all the deaths stem from a single cause. 

To draw an analogy, though it may seem imperfect, let us look at how war affects people. There are direct life-threatening factors, such as bombardment with various weapons. But people also die from heart attacks, strokes, or from not receiving timely medical care, lacking clean water, or from increased infection rates. 

When forensic pathologists examine the deceased, they find various causes of death, but investigators and prosecutors may conclude that the root cause is war.

The same applies to wildlife, including dolphins. There are multiple threats to their lives and health. Missile launches from surface and underwater naval vessels, whether successful or not, pose a danger. A failed missile that crashes into the sea contaminates the dolphins’ environment with rocket fuel. Even a missile that was successfully launched underwater exposes the animals to harmful noise. Speaking of noise pollution, another source is russian radar systems, which also harm marine mammals. Thus, due to the war, animals are suffering from both acoustic trauma and chemical pollution.

Stress is another threat to the animals. And it is not just the dolphins that are stressed; the fish they feed on are too. To put it simply, the fish get scared and move away, and the dolphins follow. This migration into unfamiliar conditions increases the risk of them getting caught in fishing nets.

There is also speculation that dolphins can suffer from concussions even far from combat zones. A recent article in Science suggested that mild concussions might be a possible cause of whale strandings around the world. While we need technologically complex studies to confirm this, it is not something we can rule out as being connected to the war.

The destruction of sewage systems or larger-scale events, such as the russian military’s destruction of the Kakhovka dam, is also dangerous for dolphins. These incidents release large amounts of organic matter into the sea—from agricultural fertilizers to sewage from cities. This raises the risk of infectious diseases and provides the conditions for phenomena like “red tides,” massive algal blooms. Some of these algae release toxins into the sea.

If a dolphin washes ashore in Bulgaria or Georgia, for example, can this also be linked to the war?

Biological and veterinary analyses are needed to confirm that. When we study what is happening to dolphins in the Black Sea, we must consider everything, because there are no state borders for animals. The impact might occur within our economic zone, say, halfway between Snake Island and Crimea, but the aftermath could manifest in Bulgaria or Turkey.

Then, it is important to establish cooperation with other countries to jointly assess the effects of the war on marine animals. Is such cooperation in place, and how does it work?

Yes, cooperation has been established. Colleagues in Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey, and Georgia perform autopsies on dead dolphins, conduct laboratory analyses, and share their data and findings with us. 

However, as in Ukraine, the capabilities for such research are limited in all Black Sea countries: no government funds autopsies or analyses. Scientists carry out these studies only when they can and out of their own initiative. 

Considering that dolphin bodies decompose quickly, very few are suitable for autopsy. As a result, the data we receive is quite scarce.

As far as I know, dolphins are at the top of the food chain. How does their death affect the Black Sea ecosystem?

Yes, dolphins are at the top of the food web. We use the term “web” because it is not a single chain but a network of interconnected chains. 

Dolphins are considered keystone species, meaning that top predators like them stabilize entire ecosystems. In the Black Sea, dolphins regulate fish populations, and in turn, fish control the populations of zooplankton, phytoplankton, crustaceans, etc.

So, if dolphins are absent (or too few), fish begin reproducing uncontrollably. When there are too many fish, they deplete zooplankton, and that leads to the unchecked growth of microalgae. The toxins from these algae can kill both zooplankton and fish. In the end, we end up with a sea overrun by algae where little else can survive. 

Moreover, when dolphins die out, their place is often taken by jellyfish or, even worse, comb jellies. There have been cases in history where the mass death of dolphins led to ecological disasters.

In the 80s and 90s, up to 90% of Black Sea dolphins perished. This was caused by the dolphin hunting industry, which thrived until 1983. Around the same time, a species of comb jelly, Mnemiopsis, entered the Black Sea through ballast water. With no competition, it multiplied rapidly—an aggressive spread of an alien species is known scientifically as a bioinvasion. As a result, in the 1990s, Mnemiopsis consumed the eggs of almost all common fish species, and anchovy catches dropped 100 to 200 times by 1991. It was even said the Black Sea could become a dead one.

Ironically, the dolphin population recovered partly due to another bioinvasion, an accidental one at that. In 1997–1999, another species of comb jelly, Beroe, was introduced into the Black Sea, and it fed on Mnemiopsis.

In your opinion, how difficult will it be to restore the dolphin population after the war?

Ukraine is home to various dolphin populations. We have three species: the harbor porpoise, the common dolphin, and the bottlenose dolphin. Each species has its own life cycle, lifespan, reproduction rate, and so forth.

As of now, the common dolphin, is doing relatively well. This species is mostly found in the open sea and stays away from the coast.

On the other hand, the harbor porpoise suffers greatly due to human activity. Although no one hunts it intentionally, it often gets accidentally caught in fishing nets. Each year, 12,000–16,000 porpoises die this way, one of the highest rates in the world. Due to this constant pressure, porpoises reproduce quickly: females give birth almost every year and reach sexual maturity at just three years of age, or perhaps even earlier now.

In contrast, the Black Sea bottlenose dolphin reproduces much more slowly, giving birth only once every three years, and reaching sexual maturity at 5–6 years, sometimes even later. This species is listed as endangered and is the largest dolphin in our waters with the smallest population.

Bottlenose dolphins are divided into several local groups. Some groups can be large, numbering in the hundreds, while others are much smaller. For example, near Dzharylhach Island, between 2016 and 2020, we studied a group of fewer than 50 bottlenose dolphins.

Bottlenose dolphins have strong cultural traditions and sophisticated social relationships—they are highly attached to their home territory. If some russian soldiers were to shoot them near Dzharylhach, the dolphins would simply disappear from that area, leaving it desolate for decades.

Therefore, even if we assume that the overall dolphin population in the Black Sea recovers, it does not mean that each small group of bottlenose dolphins will survive. It is entirely possible that while things may look fine in the center of the sea, the situation near the shores—particularly near our shores—will be much worse. And it is crucial to understand this: the bottlenose dolphin population cannot be replenished in captivity. Second-generation offspring simply do not get born in captivity.

Thus, bottlenose dolphins are the most at risk, especially in peripheral areas where fighting occurs, and even in areas without direct combat.

What non-combat measures negatively affect them?

The russians are distorting nature. They do not just destroy dams—they build new ones, and that is bad.

They constructed a causeway between Dzharylhach Island and the occupied mainland of Ukraine. Fortunately, nature took care of it: in 2023, a massive storm washed it away. But that causeway posed a threat to the Dzharylhach Bay ecosystem by blocking the water exchange with the open sea.

As for the Kerch Bridge, it does not just threaten nature—it has already caused harm. 

Firstly, its construction generated severe acoustic pollution, harmful to dolphins.

Secondly, there is now a dam between Tuzla Island and the Caucasian shore, damaging the ecosystem of the Taman Bay and the Kerch Strait, where small herds of bottlenose dolphins live. It also endangers the entire ecosystem of the Sea of Azov, home to a unique population of harbor porpoises.

What can Ukraine do to protect Black Sea marine mammals? How can we at least reduce our own negative impact on them?

Scientists propose three main areas of work, which align with the international convention that came into force in Ukraine back in 2003.

• The first is to reduce accidental dolphin deaths. We can learn from the experience of Romania and Bulgaria, where special devices are installed on fishing nets to deter harbor porpoises.
• The second is to expand the network of protected areas. This requires political will since it requires legislative changes. It is crucial to start this process now, even during the war, and especially to create these protected marine areas in Crimean waters.
• The third area is to strengthen government control over pollution sources—biological, chemical, and acoustic. This is not about punishment but about systemic recommendations. In other words, experts should be present to say, “Do not operate here right now because fish are coming,” or “This area is clear for operations.”

Will the abolition of dolphinariums affect the dolphin population? 

It will, and significantly. We do not have large herds of bottlenose dolphins like in the Pacific, where they number in the thousands. Our groups are small, each with its own routes and feeding grounds. When a dolphinarium poacher catches five bottlenose dolphins, it can have fatal consequences for the entire group.

For our country, dolphinariums are evil. Public pressure is key here—going to dolphinariums should become bad taste.

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

Main photo: NGL media. Photographer: Maxym Kozmenko

“It was the end of the day, the sun was setting. Luckily, we were rowing: leisurely paddling along. Suddenly, we saw it sitting there! It was gnawing on something on the water lilies. It noticed us, too — the contact lasted about 5 seconds. Then it immediately dived and hid under the lilies.”

Zoologist Oleksandr Yemets, a researcher at the Seymskiy Regional Landscape Park, has been studying the desman for many years. He has seen it in the wild only once in his life, and he says he was incredibly lucky.

The animal is so rare that all possible conservation documents protect it. In the Red Data Book, it has the status of a relict species at risk of extinction.

Moreover, the desman is very cautious. Upon sensing an intruder, it will dive to the bottom, sealing its snout with special valves. Then, it might even relocate from the area where it was disturbed.

The problem is that in modern conditions, the desman is disturbed everywhere — and in Ukraine, it is almost extinct. The only population of desmans remains in the The Seym is the largest tributary of the Desna. In Ukraine, the river flows in the Sumy and Chernihiv regions.Seym and its two tributaries.

Now, this area has become a battleground: explosions can constantly be heard in the once-quiet backwaters. So, does the desman still live near the Seym, and what do we know about it? We discuss this as part of the #StopEcocideUkraine project.

The Russian Desman — The Oldest Representative of Modern European Fauna

The desman is a small mammal that spends much time in the water. Its lifestyle is similar to that of a muskrat, but by origin, the animals are not closely related. The desman is related to the mole. In the Talpidae family, which includes moles, there is a genus called Desmana. A single species of this genus still survives, the Russian desman, scientific name Desmana moschata. Once, there were many species of desmans, but we know this only from fossil remains.

The oldest remains of these animals, found in Europe, date back to the Miocene. This was an epoch in Earth’s history that began about 23 million years ago and ended about 5 million years ago. The animal world was quite different then. The desman lived alongside the ancestors of horses, rhinos, and immense mastodons. Humans as a species did not yet exist!

Therefore, the desman is a relict animal that has survived into modern fauna from pre-human epochs and is not well adapted to current conditions. It evolved into its present form 20 million years ago and has not changed since. Why change anything? 

It’s just perfect! Its four-sided snout is equipped with skin valves to prevent water from entering when it dives. It can comfortably stay underwater for four minutes. The snout is also convenient for digging in the mud at the bottom in search of food.

The desman’s eyesight is weak but quite sufficient for its lifestyle. It swims in dark thickets and is active at night. 

Its body is small, about 20 centimeters (~8 inches) long, with a similarly long tail covered in scales. At the base, it is round, but towards the end, it becomes flat like a boat keel, which is useful for swimming. The desman has developed webbing between its toes for better swimming. There are also fringes of fur along the edges of its paws that increase the surface area for paddling.

The desman’s toes on its hind legs are arranged quite differently from other mammals, being column-like — one above the other. This is not very convenient for crawling but excellent for paddling. Its fur is thick and silky, allowing it to stay relatively dry and creating an air cushion around it. Is this not perfect for aquatic life?

The desman favors An oxbow lake forms when a wide meander of a river is cut off.oxbow lakes, floodplain lakes, and even settles in river channels. The entrance to its burrow is underwater, but the burrow itself extends into the bank, rising above the water level. A desman family can dig tunnels up to 20 meters long, sometimes on multiple levels, in case the lower floors flood. The burrow is lined with plant matter.

The desman is not picky in terms of food: its diet includes both plants and animals. This includes mollusks, cattails, water lilies, insect larvae, leeches, and in winter, fish. During Soviet times, when desmans were kept in artificial conditions, they even agreed to eat cabbage and potatoes.

A Fragrant Animal

The largest populations of desman live on russian territory in the basins of the Volga, Don, and Ural rivers.

The English name — Russian desman — reflects this fact.  

At the same time, the name of this mammal, used in the Ukrainian scientific community, is not “Russian” but “that of Rus.” This name refers to the medieval Eastern Slavic state Kyivan Rus, which existed on the territory of modern Ukraine, Belarus, and partly russia. Throughout the centuries, variations of its name have been used by those claiming the inheritance of Kyivan Rus. Finally, in the 18th century, russia formally adopted this name. Both adjectives—which refer to the old Slavic state and to the modern country—are often mixed up in russian and even English.

Ironically, while called “Russian” in English, it is precisely the russians who are currently pushing desmans closer to extinction. 

In Latin, however, scent played a significant role. The genus name Desmana was adopted, meaning “musk.” The species name moschata also means “with a musky smell.”

Yes, the desman truly has a scent. Its glands secrete musk, which serves as a chemical signal to attract the opposite sex and lubricate its fur. This substance, whether of animal origin or synthetic, is used in perfumery, as musk is believed to induce arousal.

However, the desman itself is quite reserved in this regard — during the breeding season, it is monogamous! It creates a family and dwells only with its partner.

The Last Sighting of the Desman

In 2009 researchers estimated that about 300–500 desmans remained near the Seym and its tributaries. However, these figures are just an estimate: no thorough studies of the Seym’s desman population have been conducted.

Apart from Ukraine, there are small populations of Russian desmans in russia and western Kazakhstan. Although the desman once lived in the rivers of Western Europe, it is no longer found there. What led to its extinction there?

Hunting, among other factors, played a role. Recorded figures on desman hunting in russia show that 100,000 skins were sold annually before World War I.

The desman began to die out. During Soviet times, efforts were made to restore the population: The animal was caught and kept in artificial conditions, and various rafts made of brushwood and floating nest boxes from logs were even made for them. Then, they were released into rivers. From 1929 to 1940, desmans were also released in Ukraine, but they did not take root anywhere.

In Ukraine, the desman lived in the Dnipro River but went extinct in the 1930s.

It also lived in the Siverskyi Donets and its tributaries. The rare animal had a protected status as far back as 1928: in the Luhansk region, a “
“desman farm” called Kreminne was established in the floodplain lakes of the Krasna River. In modern terms, this was a nature reserve. Initially, the population increased, then fell back to its original numbers. The reserve was abolished in 1954 and turned into hunting grounds. Since then, desmans have occasionally been spotted in the Donets but gradually disappeared. It is believed that by the 1970s, the species was completely extinct in this river.

However, around the time when the desman nearly disappeared in the Donets, it appeared in the Seym. This was an artificially introduced population that, surprisingly, settled in well. The desman was released in the Kursk region in 1961 and found the Seym to its liking. The river originates in russia, flows through Ukraine, and empties into the Desna. The desman gradually spread downstream, inhabiting the Ukrainian part of the Seym in the Sumy region. The areas where the desman can live are now part of the Serednioseymskiy Reserve and Seymskiy Regional Landscape Park.

“The information we have about the Seym comes from recorded catches: people simply report that this animal was seen. There are photographs of desmans in the Seym tributary, the Vyr River — there was definitely a small population there,” says researcher Oleksandr Yemets.

Oleksandr himself encountered a desman in the Kleven River. This happened near the village of Lytvynovychi in the Konotop district on August 6, 2018. The zoologists were not expecting a desman at the time; they were out for a bird survey.

It seems this was the last recorded instance of a desman sighting in Ukraine.

Why There Are So Few Desmans

The animal is extremely particular about its living conditions. As soon as something doesn’t suit it, it leaves. If only it had somewhere to go…

Both natural and human factors threaten the desman. It is uncertain whether the animal will survive the new challenge — hostilities. So, what is endangering the desman?

• Climate Change

The desman is poorly adapted to temperature changes and may not survive droughts. 

Additionally, the animal spreads during river floods, which have been absent in recent years. “Its burrows get flooded, so it abandons them and follows the stream in search of new territories,” explains Oleksandr Yemets. “At such times, you might see a desman on some log or just floating in the water. The animal needs somewhere to sleep and eat, but its burrow is flooded! So, it leaves home. This is how it disperses. Have you seen the Seym flood? It’s an incredible sight: a sea of water under the spring sun, beautiful! Unfortunately, the last flood was about 20 years ago.”

• Agriculture

The desman is disturbed by the presence of people and livestock and gets frightened by sounds.

• Fishing

On the Siverskyi Donets, fishing contributed to the disappearance of the Russian desman. The animals got caught in nets, and people frequently visited the river with cars or used electric fishing rods, scaring or killing the animals.

• Wastewater

“During my years working in the Seymskiy Park, there have been two serious environmental disasters. Both were linked to russia,” laments Oleksandr Yemets.

On June 27, 2011, an accident occurred at the sewage treatment facilities in the russian city of Kursk. Wastewater is typically purified using activated sludge: a whole ecosystem of microorganisms that feed on substances in the wastewater, “cleaning” the water. At the Kursk treatment plant, these microorganisms died and failed to do their job. The untreated waste flowed into the Seym, reaching Ukraine.

“When this mass of poisoned water approached the dam near Tyotkino is a town in russia near the Ukrainian border.Tyotkino, instead of dealing with it on their territory, they opened the sluice gate and released the water into Ukraine. As a result, a colossal number of fish died here. The Ukrainian lamprey, a species of fish-like organisms that are protected by everything imaginable, was affected!” he exclaims.

The second major pollution incident occurred this year at the end of May. Once again, dirty water flowed from the north, killing fish.

Moreover, in 2012, at least four enterprises in russia were fined for discharging untreated wastewater into the Seym, and in 2023, the water utility company of Kursk, Kurskvodokanal, was fined for insufficiently treating the water that entered the river.

“Dirty water is a catastrophic situation!” Yemets laments. The water’s bacterial balance changes and the amount of dissolved oxygen drops sharply. This kills mollusks, reducing the desman’s food supply.

• War

Oleksandr Yemets predicts that the war will have the most significant impact on the desman population in the Vyr River.

The animals live in the river near the villages of Stari Vyrky, Novi Vyrky, Boyary-Lezhache, and Ryzhivka. “Right now, it’s hell there. All you can name is being fired there and exploding there. Nothing remains of poor Ryzhivka! And the desman was spotted near Ryzhivka, and it must still be living somewhere around there,” says Yemets.

It doesn’t necessarily take a direct hit to harm the desman population. Any animal flees areas where it is disturbed by noise and vibration. When a shockwave from an explosion hits water, aquatic organisms suffer from hydrodynamic shock. Simply put, they get shell-shocked. “If this happens regularly, it’s catastrophic for the animal. And this has been going on regularly for two years. The desman is a very cautious animal! It won’t stay where cows graze near the water. Just mere cows! And here, it’s shells!” 

Explosions not only make noise but also pollute the water, soil, and air, contaminating them with heavy metals.

Could the animal simply relocate downstream? It needs suitable living conditions, which are increasingly scarce. And it’s not just the war playing a role: sometimes farmers against the law plow fields right up to the Seym and other water bodies, which doesn’t suit the desman. Yemets concludes, “Where it used to live is now under bombardment. So it will definitely leave, but whether it will find a new place is a big question. The climate has changed significantly, the oxbow lakes have dried up. So the desman will look for A backwater is a place flooded by river or lake water during a flood, or a calm area of a river or lake. backwaters directly in the Seym. However, there aren’t many places that meet its living requirements.” 

How the Desman is Studied and Counted

Detecting the desman in the summer is difficult because the animal is nocturnal and lives among water plants and duckweed. Therefore, they are counted in the winter.

The method is as follows: when the water first freezes and the ice is clear, scientists walk on it and look down under the ice. They search for evidence of desmans. “Where there are burrows, there will be a trodden path — you can see that it uses this burrow,” explains Oleksandr. “Usually, shells gather near such burrows: the desman eats, throws out the shells while sitting in the burrow.”

The last serious studies were conducted in the Siverskyi Donets basin in 2001, but no desmans were found.

“We wanted to count the animals in the landscape park. However, organizing such an expedition is not easy. It’s very expensive and requires equipment. And now there’s a war,” laments Oleksandr.

In recent years, there have been at least a few recorded instances of desman sightings in the Seym. Now no one, except the military, can enter her habitat as the area is under frequent shelling.

The State Emergency Service of Ukraine prohibits researchers from traveling by boat or kayak on water bodies; the shores may be mined.

Only nature conservation inspectors have the right to check the condition of the landscape park. They report that there are almost no nets now, which is good. However, no one knows if the desman still lives in the Seym. 

Can the Desman Be Saved?

Until the hostilities in the Sumy region end, it is too early to talk about preserving the desman. Oleksandr Yemets says, “This is the highlight, the trump card of our landscape park. This is an animal from past epochs! If the russians leave our land, we will conduct research. Then, it will be clear what can be done to preserve the population. And the situation will improve. We must preserve this unique animal, which remains here only in the Sumy region.”

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

Since 2014, Ukrainian nature reserves have been turned into battlegrounds or ended up under military occupation. For example, russia seized the Kazantyp and Yalta reserves after occupying Crimea. The Holy Mountains National Nature Park, the Donetsk Ridge and Zuyivskyi landscape parks, and parts of the Luhansk Provallia Steppe Nature Reserve were damaged or completely destroyed during the fighting in the Donetsk and Luhansk regions.

With the start of russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, reserves in the Zaporizhzhia and Kherson regions also came under occupation. The occupation authorities there are employing the practices already mastered in Crimea.

Within the framework of the #StopEcocideUkraine project, we discuss the ecocidal actions committed by russians on Ukraine’s occupied nature reserve lands.

THE GOAL IS TO SEIZE NATURAL WEALTH AND USE IT FOR FURTHER MILITARY AGGRESSION

russians exploit Ukraine’s protected areas wherever they can establish even a temporary foothold. They try to make this temporary presence permanent by legalizing their actions, at least within the framework of russian legislation.

Re-registration

After the occupation of Crimea, the russian state register saw an increase in legal entities, including national parks and reserves located on the Crimean peninsula. russians began re-registering them as property of their state. Thus, December 2014 saw the appearance of the Kazantyp Nature Reserve, the Tarkhankut National Nature Park, the Opuk Nature Reserve, and other “state budget institutions”.

However, from 2017 to 2023, the russian legal entities of the Kazantyp, Karadag, Opuk, Tarkhankut, and Karalar reserves were liquidated. No, the russians did not regret their conquest or acknowledge their crimes — they simply decided to centralize the management of protected areas through a single directorate, Zapovednyi Krym (Protected Crimea). This entity was created back in 2020, and its activities include fishing and logging. Thus, what is essentially a scheme with the creation of a parent organization legalized these operations on Ukrainian protected territories.

Another criminal activity concerning animals and a way of making money is carried out by the Karadag Nature Reserve in temporarily occupied Crimea. There, russians created a “science demonstration program” involving dolphins. Every day except Monday, visitors are treated to a “bright and colorful acquaintance with Black Sea bottlenose dolphins” — a rare species listed in Ukraine’s Red Book. Judging by the poster, an institution dedicated to studying and preserving nature instead entertains the public with shows similar to those at Nemo dolphinariums.

During the full-scale war, russians apply their experience of appropriation and destruction to mainland reserves under occupation. For instance, last year, the Ukrainian Dzharylhach National Nature Park (Dzharylhachsky in the russified version) was included in the russian unified state register of legal entities. According to this register, russians have allowed fishing and hunting, logging, and the extraction of clay, salt, oil, and natural gas on the territory of the national park. They also want to turn the protected area into a recreational zone by building hotels and restaurants.

In March 2023, russia also included the state-owned autonomous institution Askania-Nova Biosphere Reserve in its state register. The russians omitted an important part of the reserve’s name — the name of Friedrich von Falz-Fein, who founded it. The occupation administration of the Kherson Region appointed a former employee of the Security Service of Ukraine, Dmytro Meshcheriakov, as the reserve’s director. The National Police has already made him a collaborationism suspect for this.

The same situation occurred in the Azov-Syvash National Nature Park in the Kherson Region. It was re-registered under russian law in February 2023, with Ukrainian citizen Yevheniy Popovchuk appointed as director. Evidently, he harbors political ambitions under the russian occupation regime, as he ran as a candidate from the United russia party in the illegal elections held in Kherson in 2023, becoming a deputy of the so-called Henichesk Municipal District of the Kherson Region.

Military Exploitation

However, re-registration and russian conservation status do not protect the occupied reserves: russians use these lands for military purposes, endangering and deliberately destroying them. 

russians have set up a military training ground in the Pryazovskyi National Nature Park in the Zaporizhzhia Region. There, they conduct mortar fire drills, damaging the reserve landscapes with shelling. Last year, they also actively excavated the Molochna River to create a water barrier in case of a Ukrainian counteroffensive.

According to the Ukrainian Nature Conservation Group, at the beginning of the full-scale war, russians also entrenched themselves in the south of the Donetsk Region, in the Meotyda National Nature Park. This destroyed the nesting sites of wetland birds: the Pallas’s gull, oystercatcher, Dalmatian pelican, and Sandwich tern. Ornithologist Vadym Zhulenko explained that these birds nest only in that location.

The consequences of the occupation of protected areas can already be assessed by the condition of those that have been liberated. For example, after the de-occupation of the Kamianska Sich National Nature Park in the Kherson Region, experts discovered the barbaric method russians used to camouflage their military positions. The invaders tore up rare feather grass species and other plants, which the park was created to protect.

Moreover, let us also take a closer look at the Holy Mountains National Nature Park in the Donetsk Region, which was under occupation from February to autumn 2022. According to its director, Serhiy Pryimachuk, during these months, russians destroyed about 5,000 hectares of forest and removed equipment belonging to the park. The protected area was heavily mined, and mine explosions continue to cause fires.

A similar story unfolded in Dvorichansky National Nature Park, occupied in spring 2022. When the Ukrainian Armed Forces liberated the Kharkiv Region in the autumn, russians had mined the park area, including with anti-personnel mines known as “petals” [PFM-1 anti-personnel land mine]. Demining is not possible at the moment — it can only be done after the fighting is over. The park is too close to the russian border.

METHODS — BURNING PLANTS, STEALING AND SHOOTING ANIMALS

Regional military administrations monitor the condition of occupied biosphere reserves and national nature parks using satellite imagery and maintaining contact with employees who were forced to remain under occupation. They report that these territories suffer most from fires: forests and steppe grasses burn. Consequently, animals suffer from starvation as well as die from mines and shelling. They also get killed by russian poachers and stolen from Ukrainian reserves to russian zoos.

Nature in Flames

According to the Kherson Regional Military Administration, over 5.5 thousand hectares of the Askania-Nova reserve have burned since February 24, 2022—almost one-fifth of its territory. Agricultural landscapes were most affected: arable land, fallow fields, and shelterbelts. The administration explains this by neglect: weeds have grown, which quickly dry out and are susceptible to catching fire.

However, protected zones also suffered from fires, including the “model” fescue-feather-grass steppe of the Black Sea region, the main ecological asset of Askania-Nova. The most significant damage was caused by large fires on August 22 and September 1, 2023. Plants listed in the The Green Data Book of Ukraine is a government document that promotes the protection of entire plant groups.Green Data Book of Ukraine (2009), primarily Ukrainian feather grass [Stipa ucrainica] and downy feather grass [Stipa capillata], were burned. Additionally, during the firefighting on September 1, 2023, russians plowed the virgin steppe in the reserve, damaging the soil.

Partially affected by the fires was the bottom of the Great Chapelsky Hollow [also referred to as the Great Chapelsky Lowland], a wetland of international importance protected by the Ramsar Convention. The entire reserve area is part of Ukraine's Emerald Network is a network of areas of special conservation interest that is part of the Emerald Network of Europe.Ukraine’s Emerald Network.

In 2023, the Dzharylhach National Nature Park experienced 36 fires which burned over 1.5 thousand hectares of protected land. Rare Red Data Book orchids, sawgrass, and other valuable plants used to grow there. Deer, fallow deer, foxes, and gray hares had to flee the fires. The damage to the park is estimated at over 102 billion hryvnias [~2.5 billion US dollars].

From February 2022 to April 2023, over 7 thousand hectares of protected lands in the Lower Dnipro National Nature Park burned. In June, when russia blew up the dam of the Kakhovka Hydroelectric Power Station, the park was completely flooded. The damage to the plants cannot be determined since most of the park’s territory remains under military occupation.

In the Mykolaiv Region, the Kinburn Spit, located in the Ivory Coast of Sviatoslav National Nature Park, regularly suffers from fires due to russian military actions. Over the two years of full-scale war, park employees recorded more than 200 fires on the occupied territory. The fire often reignites in the same area, affecting over 6 thousand hectares of the reserve.

The Luhansk Regional Military Administration reported that eight forest fire sites caused by active hostilities in the region have been identified since 2022. These fires have damaged parts of the Kreminna Forests National Nature Park and the Triokhizbenskyi Steppe Reserve branch of the Luhansk Nature Reserve.

After de-occupation, the Holy Mountains National Nature Park in the Donetsk Region still suffers from russian shelling. Constant fires from attacks prevent the forest from recovering. The fires also cause significant damage: on May 7, 2024, over 470 hectares of forest burned, with the State Environmental Inspection estimating the damage at over 2.6 billion hryvnias. This assessment had to be conducted remotely, relying on firefighter reports and geospatial data, as the park’s territory is mined.

Explosives pollute the soil, hindering plant growth and generally negatively impacting flora restoration. “I know from 2014 — when Grads [MLRS] shelled a plot of land in the forestry — that for 8 years, not even grass grew there,” says Serhiy Pryimachuk, director of the Holy Mountains Park, about the war’s consequences for nature.

Animal Deaths and Injuries

On Ukrainian conservation lands under occupation, animals die due to inadequate care and suffer injuries and stress due to hostilities. 

Viktor Shapoval, director of Askania-Nova, reports that many animals in the reserve die from a lack of proper care. For instance, in November 2023, three Cape buffaloes, warmth-loving African animals, died on the territory of the Great Chapelsky Hollow because the occupation administration did not move them to winter quarters in time. Another female buffalo died on the way there.

The Kherson Regional Military Administration estimates the losses to the Askania-Nova reserve from animal deaths and removals at 970 thousand hryvnias [~24,000 US dollars]. This is not the final amount, as the damage continues to be calculated, however, it won’t bring the animals back.

In the occupied part of Zaporizhzhia Oblast, in the Pryazovskyi National Nature Park, russian invaders and local collaborationists engage in fish poaching. According to the park’s director, Dmytro Volovyk, they have placed at least 8 kilometers of fishing nets in the Molochnyi Estuary Hydrological Reserve, collecting up to 5 tons of fish daily.

He also confirms that in the Azov-Syvash National Nature Park, the invaders kill animals “for meat”, “Animals from Biryuchyi [Island] are shot and transported in trucks. I know of an incident where the invaders shot a truckful of hooved animals, with blood dripping from the car trunk.”

There are also reports from occupied parts of the Kherson Region that russian soldiers hunt there. The animal killers do not hide their actions and post photos of their prey on social media. Zoologist Vitaliy Smahol identified a male red deer in these photos. Before the war, herds of these deer used to live in the Askania-Nova reserve and the Azov-Syvash National Nature Park.

Theft of Red Data Book Animals

russians illegally transport animals from Askania-Nova, disguising their actions with a “cooperation agreement,” but these documents are signed not by the legitimate Ukrainian director but by the russian appointee.

In 2023, the National Resistance Center reported that russians were taking animals to the Safari-Park in Krasnodar. The park has a petting zoo, and the animals are kept in enclosures, which are very different conditions from Askania-Nova, where the animals roamed freely.

In December of the same year, the russians illegally exchanged several specimens of Chapman’s zebra, American bison, Przewalski’s horse, and Père David’s deer from Askania-Nova for eland antelopes, domestic yaks, and Bactrian camels from the Rostov Nature Reserve. The species taken from Ukrainian territories are listed in the Red Book and included in the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List with statuses such as Extinct in the Wild, Critically Endangered, and Near Threatened.

russian propaganda media also report “exchanges” between Askania-Nova and the Tayhan Park in Crimea. In the spring, a 15-year-old pregnant Chapman’s zebra and two foals of this species were taken from Ukraine to Crimea. In return, pelicans, dwarf pigs, alpacas, and a Eurasian bustard were taken from the park in the occupied Crimea. Tayhan has a bad reputation even in russia: its director Oleg Zubkov is often accused of animal abuse. He himself states that he has gone through 582 court sessions involving 70 administrative and six criminal cases. Animal rights activists say he is protected by the occupation authorities of the peninsula. They also sent a petition to vladimir putin, citing the Tayhan Park as “a parody of a zoo, an amateur zoo garden without any animal professionals, with daily dangerous situations caused by the reckless actions of the park owner Zubkov.”

Moreover, the same Oleg Zubkov owns another animal abuse facility—the Skazka Zoo. russian Red Data Book animals — Bengal tiger cubs — have already died there. Now, the zoo has signed a criminal agreement with the occupation management of Askania-Nova to obtain Ukrainian Red Data Book animals.

By managing temporarily occupied Ukrainian reserves, russia exploits loopholes in international law. For instance, the Rome Statute still lacks a definition of ecocide as a crime, and the Geneva Convention does not specifically protect reserves and sanctuaries. While there is a 2016 UN General Assembly resolution on the environment that calls on member states to protect the environment during armed conflicts, UN resolutions are not binding, and thus russia has not included environmental protection requirements in its military documents.

Therefore, Ukraine must vigorously advocate for changes in international law that would hold russia accountable for the damage to Ukrainian protected territories and the environment in general.

Cover photo: Kreminna Forests, 2024. Source: Open Forest NGO

Bottom banner photo by Roksolana Baran. Source: Nature Reserve Fund of Ukraine

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

There is nothing beautiful about watching a fish fight for its life and slowly die in plain sight.

You have probably seen this before. A trendy boutique, beauty salon, notary’s office, or coffee shop. On the table sits a small, round glass bowl filled with clear water. At the bottom, a few decorative stones, a plastic flower, or even nothing at all. Inside, a goldfish swims endlessly in circles, occasionally gulping air from the surface. What is wrong with this picture? Just about everything.

The very idea of using a living creature purely as decoration is deeply questionable from both ethical and aesthetic standpoints. Few would consider pinning a live cat to a wall or adorning a Christmas tree with hamsters. But fish, as we have come to see, are not regarded in the same way as other animals: they are dispensable. As a result, they can be placed in conditions where they cannot live, just survive for a limited time. Moreover, the only way a fish can communicate that it finds these conditions unbearable is to flip belly-up and die. 

The “serenity” of a fish endlessly circling its bowl is an illusion. Fish are cold-blooded, meaning they conserve energy and do not waste it on unnecessary movement. Under normal conditions, fish swim to migrate, reproduce, interact with other fish in a group, escape danger, or find food. In a bowl, it swims instinctively in search of an exit from its invisible prison. Swimming, it breathes intensely; levels of oxygen dissolved in the water drop, and the fish gulps the upper layer to avoid suffocating. It feels quite like a fish out of water.

A bowl of water is not an aquarium; it is just a bowl of water. Professional aquariums usually include five essential components absent in the container described above:

• Substrate (stones or sand)
• Live aquatic plants
• Lighting, often combined with heating
• An aerator (the device that creates bubbles)
• A filter for water purification

These are the necessary components that bring the aquarium closer to the natural environment in which fish are used to living. Even with these features, the aquarium is still a very limited space (in nature, fish usually live in much larger reservoirs), and its conditions are far from adequate.

Aquarists consider a lot of aspects: fish native to the Amazon and South Asia require different water acidity, different soils, light, temperature, water volume per fish, and so on. They also need different food: not everyone likes stinky crustacean powder. Of course, aquarium fish have changed their habits over decades of captivity and breeding, but there are no conditions that are completely suitable for each and every one of them.

For example, everyone knows guppies — small livebearer fish native to South America. In the wild, they live in overgrown, warm bodies of water with little to no current and are popularly considered “universal.”  The logic goes: they are low-maintenance, you can gift them to a five-year-old for their birthday, toss them into a 20-liter aquarium, and let them figure it out — they’ll adapt, maybe even breed. Next, someone will add tiger barbs — fish that, in nature, live in streams, love clean, oxygen-rich water, and need space to dart around. Then they will throw in an ancistrus so it can cling amusingly to the glass (though it will not live long without specialized plant-based food). And to top it off, a pair of angelfish — because they are so beautiful. Never mind that an aquarium of that size would be cramped for even one angelfish. But the fish swim, eat, live.

How do they feel? Probably like passengers crammed into a train compartment: spending a single night there might be bearable, but imagine a month or a year…

It is no surprise that fish often jump out of such “aquariums” and die. It is not suicide — it is their instinctive attempt to escape an adverse environment.

By their psychological makeup, most fish are hardcore survivalists. In their natural environment, they face floods, droughts, food shortages, diseases, predator infestations, and they have to be able to adapt to all of them. Wild cousins of the goldfish — crucian carp — hibernate under ice, burrow into the silt in summer, survive long periods out of the water, and are quite promiscuous eaters. But for no species of fish is it natural to spend most or all of their time in a small volume of stagnant water, without substrate or plants. So, while people might relax and relieve stress watching fish dart around in a jar, the fish themselves are stressed (yes, fish stress is scientifically proven) and suffering.

To avoid torturing your fish, start by reading a book on aquaristics. I emphasize: a book, not a Google search, since searching for anything related to aquarium fish online will bring up hundreds of ads from pet stores and manufacturers. There, you will read that anything is suitable for any kind of fish — just make sure to buy that “anything” from that specific brand or store.

A good book on aquaristics might sour your mood: you will need to step out of your comfort zone to follow its recommendations. Properly setting up and maintaining a humanely (towards fish) equipped aquarium is a long and tedious job.

Imagine needing a special kit to test the chemical composition of water! The fish species you are eager to combine will turn out to be incompatible, and simple solutions like plastic plants will be unacceptable. Even if you buy a spacious enough aquarium, it will likely become too small in a year as the fish grow. Tossing a bunch of colorful fish into a tiny volume of water and making them sparkle to liven up your home will not work. You would be better off with a plasma screen and a screensaver.

Companies and professionals who design aquariums for aesthetic purposes often care more about looks than the well-being of the fish. In contrast, in the broader context, being a professional aquarist is not as much about arranging pebbles according to feng shui but about ethics and responsibility.

“Remember that at the core of this hobby, we are ultimately responsible for the well-being of living creatures, and we should always act in their best interest… Even if other [aquarists] do not…,” reflects Canadian aquarist Derek Tustin. Whether aquariums are ethical in principle is a serious discussion, with animal rights advocates and fish breeders as obvious opponents; however, by accepting criticism and understanding societal trends in how animals are treated, professional aquarist associations are declaring as their priority the welfare of fish and ensuring they live in dignified conditions. For example, our own All-Ukrainian Association of Aquarists, although primarily focused on competitions, lists as one of its goals “promoting the humane treatment of animals and providing consultative assistance in creating optimal living conditions, as close to natural as possible.”

(Just in case, a reminder: “liberating” aquarium fish and other aquatic creatures by releasing them into ponds or rivers is very dangerous. It can harm not only the fish, turtles, and snails themselves but also entire ecosystems. Not only exotic but also native animals and plants should not be released after being kept in an aquarium. But that is a topic for another discussion.)

If someone takes on the responsibility of caring for a piece of aquatic habitat with its specific inhabitants, they should fully commit. This commitment is expensive and exhausting, ultimately limiting the community of aquarists to true enthusiasts and professionals who know what they’re doing. And the owner of a jar with a goldfish should be firmly told that they’re slowly killing their pet in plain sight—and there’s nothing beautiful about it.

The texts in the Columns section reflect only the author’s opinion and do not necessarily align with the position of UAnimals media’s editorial team.

Before Pixel, our pit bull, entered our lives, I had first a poodle and then a Dogue de Bordeaux. I never experienced the kind of intolerance from people toward either of these dogs that I have faced with the pit bull. Does this breed really deserve the aggression directed at it by society? Sometimes I feel like I need a T-shirt that says, “Don’t bully my bully!”

It was 2019. I saw a photo of a not-yet-Pixel in a Facebook post: a friend wrote that someone had abandoned a pit bull on the highway, and for three days, they hadn’t been able to retrieve him—he wouldn’t let anyone get close. My friend was searching for someone to foster the dog after they managed to catch him. I convinced my husband that we could take the dog in for a few days. Why not? What could possibly go wrong?

Before Pixel, neither my husband nor I had any experience coexisting with pit bulls. We had heard the same things everyone else had: their jaws have several tons of pressure, they’re aggressive, and they’re “fighting dogs.” I don’t know how we managed to push aside these stereotypes in our own heads and decide to take in a stray pit bull, but we did it.

Some people managed to catch the dog on the highway and bring him to the vet. So, my husband spent five hours a day sitting next to Pixel, “holding his paw” while he received IV treatments. It was then that their extraordinary bond started to form.

I remember when we first brought Pixel home, my mother was lying on the bed, flat on her back, her hands covering her eyes, and wailing, “No! No! If you keep this dog, you’ll never see me here again! It’s either him or me!” She was terrified that this “fighting dog” would tear us all apart, especially the children. She desperately questioned why we would bring a huge dog off the street rather than adopt a cute little puppy. When I brushed it off, saying I didn’t want to deal with puppy messes, my son backed her up, “Better puddles of pee around the house than puddles of blood!” Yes, it was difficult for all of them to get past their prejudices about pit bulls. But Pixel was the one who took the initiative and won their hearts.

The decision to keep him permanently wasn’t easy. He was a dog with no known history (or, rather, with too much unknown history), displaying animal aggression and numerous traumas. He was scared to pass through doorways, feared any raised hand, wouldn’t let us take his measurements (for winter clothes), didn’t know how to play with toys, and wouldn’t let anyone touch his neck. He needed an enormous amount of understanding, an approach to his wounded soul, and intensive training with dog handlers. And we took on that challenge.

We adapted our lives to suit him—he deserved this. We chose a house in Irpin specifically with Pixel in mind: it had a large, enclosed yard where he could run freely (because of his animal aggression, walks around town were nearly impossible; managing 34 kilograms of muscle was rather difficult, especially for me). We changed our lifestyle and work schedules to ensure that we could run with him daily deep in the forest, where no one else was around.

Despite his animal aggression, Pixel was not dangerous to people. He was the gentlest dog I had ever known—intelligent and empathetic. And his animal aggression was directed only at larger ones; he left smaller ones alone. He even protected a gaggle of goslings he had been given to care for. He was so gentle with Latochka, the Chihuahua who joined our family in 2020… And he was absolutely fascinated by the world of toys, treasuring each gift he received! Pixel never destroyed a single toy in his life; instead, he would lick them and “care” for them. Yes, he was very peculiar, but also truly incredible (I write “was” because, in 2021, Pixel did not survive a surgical procedure and passed away on the operating table)!

What truly struck me, however, was the attitude of others toward Pixel. Almost every walk we took was accompanied by hostile comments about the dog and aggressive remarks aimed at me as his owner. Every discussion about pit bulls on social media where I tried to defend the breed led to a barrage of hate in the comments. I could guess where it was coming from.

I would come across posts that portrayed pit bulls solely as killer dogs. For example, one media outlet used a photo collage showing a pit bull apparently snarling at a child. The boy, terrified, covered his face with his hands, and the pit bull’s teeth were almost touching his face… In reality, the designers had used a picture of pit bulls at play, cut out the image of one, and placed it beside the child. A completely manipulative collage!

Whenever Ukrainian publications mentioned a dog attacking a person, regardless of the breed, the accompanying image was often of a pit bull. Things like this infuriated me! I highlighted these manipulations on my social media in an attempt to dispel the stereotype about the breed. I understood that this was why people on the street reacted so aggressively to Pixel and me, why they called the police on us.

But my readers didn’t want to hear about these manipulations. They said: “But pit bulls are ALWAYS attacking children. Just look at what the American press writes!”

Even the leisure options that were marketed as dog-friendly were out of reach for us. People were afraid of pit bulls. We never let Pixel off his leash unless we were deep in an empty forest, and we always kept a muzzle on him. But even that didn’t help. I felt constantly harassed, no matter where we went.

Only elderly grandmothers, who were disconnected from the continuous media barrage about “killer dogs,” treated Pixel kindly. I remember one time when we were walking downtown, and an old lady, seeing Pixel from a distance, exclaimed, “Ohhh, what a sweet doggy! Such a good boy!”—and came straight over to him. And Pixel went to her, and they hugged and kissed each other: a “toothy crocodile” and an adorable old lady.

When the war began, I temporarily moved to the United States, where I received a job offer at a university. With me was Latka—the Chihuahua we had brought from Ukraine. But his longing for the pit bull was showing: the more of a dog there is, the better.

Despite all of Pixel’s quirks (quirks due to his complicated past that remained largely a mystery to us), I realized that pit bulls were the best breed for me personally. They are intelligent and active, loyal and a bit goofy, straightforward without any deceit.

After a month of searching, Burya (Storm), a gray “half bull” (so-called because she’s half the size of Pixel), entered our lives.

The first thing I did then was take a service dog instructor course. In the U.S., there are three categories of assistance dogs: emotional support dogs (which don’t require any formal training and can be of any breed), service dogs (like guide dogs), and psychiatric service dogs. The latter two must possess specific qualities and go through a three-part training program. This includes general obedience, then something akin to a city behavior course, and, finally, specialized tasks based on the needs of the person they are helping. By the age of five months, Burya had learned the entire necessary program and later successfully passed the exam.

Why did I decide to do this? Remembering my experience with Pixel in Ukraine, I wanted to prevent any issues with the dog on account of her breed. After all, when a dog wears a red harness and a service dog badge, people look at that first rather than the breed.

However, we never ended up needing the harness or badge—there was simply no need. The difference in attitude toward pit bulls between the U.S. and Ukraine is striking. Here, there have been ongoing projects for years aimed at overcoming stereotypes, and they work! Yes, not all states allow pit bulls. But in those where they are permitted, they’re treated just like any other dog. I lived in Colorado, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey, so I can discuss them specifically.

First of all, dogs here don’t wear muzzles, regardless of the breed. You can’t buy a muzzle at a chain pet supermarket because it’s not in demand. They are probably available in specialty shops, but I’ve never seen one personally—neither for sale nor on the street.

Secondly, keeping dogs on a leash is a universal requirement for all breeds. There’s no distinction that says, “These breeds must be leashed or muzzled because they’re ‘killers,’ but these breeds are fine.” The rules apply to everyone. You can’t even let your dog off-leash in the forest. The only exception is specially designated dog parks, which are available everywhere and easily accessible.

Dog parks are divided into zones for “gentle” and “rough” dogs. Bulky pit bulls can freely play in an environment with other similarly built dogs without the risk of trampling anyone… The parks are well-equipped, with toys, benches for owners, water, and some dog exercise equipment. So yes, even though the rule is that dogs must always be leashed, there’s an alternative in the form of such environments.

Thirdly, the fact that you have a pit bull does not change how people treat you. No one grabs their children in fear, avoids you during a walk, or pulls their own dogs away—instead, everyone is eager to hug and pet Burya. The attitude toward her is wonderful! Everywhere pets are allowed, she is welcomed. There’s no bias against her because of the shape of her head or her overall phenotype.

Shelters in the U.S. are overflowing with pit bulls. I became curious about why this is. Shelter workers explained that the breed is very popular among people with limited financial means. So, these dogs often end up in shelters when their owners, for instance, cannot afford to keep them (it’s extremely expensive in America). Only after seeing how popular the breed is here did I understand why there are so many reports in the American press—often cited by pit bull critics in Ukraine—about attacks by pit bulls. It’s simple: if Labradors were just as popular, shelters would be full of them, and they’d be the ones making headlines for most attacks on humans.

Regarding the term “fighting breed,” there’s actually no such classification in dog breed taxonomy. Any dog involved in fights can be considered a “fighting dog.” Historically, pit bulls have indeed been used for this purpose more often. Initially, the ancestors of modern pit bulls were used for baiting large animals—bulls, bears, and others—a cruel form of entertainment. They were ideal for this task because they are strong and resilient. When this “entertainment” was banned in the 1830s, dog owners shifted to dog fighting. Over time, pit bulls were selectively bred to excel in these new roles: they were made even stronger, with a high pain tolerance, exceptional endurance, and loyalty to their owners—humans needed to be able to pull the dog away from the heat of a fight without getting bitten.

A dog is not inherently a “fighting” dog. It is people who make them fighters. Any dog can be turned aggressive. Similarly, those same people can make a dog into a helper, a caregiver, a nanny, or a guardian. Pour love into any breed or mix, and you’ll have a “kissing dog.” Abuse any breed or mix, break its psyche, drag it into fights, and you’ll end up with a “fighting dog.”

Pit bulls are simply dogs that have been dealt a bad hand. They’ve persistently been made into “fighters.” But that’s not in their true nature. So why don’t we turn them into kissing dogs instead? All it takes is patience, love, and freedom from stereotypical thinking.

The texts in the Columns section reflect only the author’s opinion and do not necessarily align with the position of UAnimals media’s editorial team.

In April 2023, the Odesa dolphinarium Nemo was once again at the center of an animal cruelty scandal. Bloggers vacationing at Nemo Hotel Resort & SPA were getting photographed with seals from the dolphinarium right in their hotel room. At that time, UAnimals filed a complaint with the police, as the law prohibits offering photo services with wild animals outside the confines of dolphinariums. The inter-faction parliamentary association Humanna Krayina (Humane Country) also sent a petition to the police. As a result, criminal proceedings were initiated but later closed due to “lack of evidence of an offense.”

However, animal cruelty is not the only issue with the Odesa dolphinarium. UAnimals media, along with the OSINT agency Molfar, discovered that Nemo likely still has ties to Russia, with branches operating not only in the aggressor country but also in the temporarily occupied Crimea. Despite this, the dolphinariums in Ukraine remain open and continue to welcome visitors.

Debts and Hostile Takeovers: The Creation of Nemo

The first Nemo dolphinarium opened in Odesa in 2005, established by employees of the private enterprise Biolohichna Stantsiya (Biological Station).

According to the website of the city of Odesa from the CitySites network, about 1 million hryvnias from the Sevastopol budget were allocated for the dolphinarium project, with the remaining funds contributed by the limited liability company Nerum. This company leased land from the Biological Station for the construction of the dolphinarium, as well as four dolphins and three seals. In 2008, the lease expired, and Nerum owed about 5 million hryvnias for it.

The company was in no rush to return the money, so the debts were never paid. Instead, the Biological Station and its property were seized in a hostile takeover. Insiders working at this enterprise re-registered the dolphinarium to Nerum. Although the management of the Biological Station filed a lawsuit, it was not successful.

Thus, the dolphinarium belongs to the company Nerum, whose co-owners are:

• Rayisa Kislovska, mother of Odesa City Council deputy Andriy Kislovskyi;
• Mykhailo and Vyacheslav Kuchuks. Mykhailo Kuchuk was the deputy mayor of Odesa and was accused of accepting a bribe from a criminal group in 2023;
• The couple Serhiy and Nataliya Keliushkys. Nataliya Kelyushok (Kelly) has a temporary residence address in Russia;
• Dmytro Uryvskyi, one of the founders of the international non-governmental organization Mizhnarodna Asotsiatsiya Okeanariumiv Ta Delfinariyiv (International Association of Aquariums and Dolphinariums) in Crimea, lives in Anapa.

All of Nerum’s owners (or their full and partial namesakes) are also founders of the Russian limited liability company Ekologicheskiy Tsentr (Ecological Center). The company is located in Anapa, continues to operate, and pays taxes to the Russian budget. For example, in 2022, it paid over 600 thousand rubles (at the current exchange rate, this is over 6 thousand U.S. dollars to the budget of the state that launched a full-scale war against Ukraine).

Andriy Kislovskyi, who indirectly owns the dolphinarium through his mother, works in housing construction and apartment sales in Odesa. He was also a deputy of the Odesa City Council for four terms, particularly representing the Communist Party of Ukraine from 2010 to 2015. In 2013, Andriy Kislovskyi was seen among those involved in the seizure of the dolphinarium in Sevastopol. According to information from Russian databases leaked to the Internet, Kislovsky has a temporary residence address in Russia, where he has even retired.

Branches and Partner Companies: Nemo’s Ties to Russia

As part of its franchise, Nemo has dolphinarium branches in several Russian cities: Anapa, Nizhny Novgorod, Dzhubga, Golubinskaya, and Vityazevo.

Additionally, the Nemo dolphinarium is closely associated with other Russian companies. Primarily, this involves Chudnoye More (Wondrous Sea). From 2011 to 2013, this Russian company had a partnership with Nerum and received marine animals on behalf of the limited liability company Ecological Center.

These enterprises likely maintained connections even after Russia’s occupation of Crimea and the invasion of Donetsk and Luhansk regions in 2014. For instance, the autonomous non-profit organization Ortsynus reported the deaths of marine animals between 2019 and 2021, including a female Pacific walrus named Nyusha and a female seal named Meggy. These animals belonged to the Nemo dolphinarium network through Ecological Center and Wondrous Sea, according to Ortsynus.

The owner of the limited liability company Wondrous Sea through a trustee is Sergey Zirinov, a deputy from Russia’s ruling party, United Russia, who is suspected of murders and organizing a gang. In 2017, he was sentenced to 21 years in prison.

In 2014, the company Nerum, together with Tetyana Ryabchikova, founded the limited liability company Delfinariy Nemo (Dolphinarium Nemo) in the temporarily occupied Crimea. The legal address of this company is 10  Revkomivskyi Lane in Alushta. Can you guess what else you can find at this address? A dolphinarium from the Nemo network in Alushta, according to its website. It can be assumed that through this newly established company, the Ukrainian owners continued to manage the Crimean dolphinariums under occupation, not only in Alushta but also in Feodosia. Evidence supporting this includes:

• As of 2016, the Nemo website still listed branches in Feodosia, Alushta, and Russian cities.
• Dolphinariums in the Russian-occupied Alushta and Feodosia, as well as the one in Minsk (Belarus), share the same logo, website design, cross-references, and mentions of each other on social media. At the same time, dolphinariums in Odesa, Almaty, and Minsk offer the same gift certificates with the contact information of the Odesa dolphinarium.
• The Nemo dolphinarium Odesa mentions 15 branches on its website (a number that can only be reached by including those operating in Russia and the Russian-occupied territories of Ukraine).

Regarding Nemo branches in occupied territories, it is also worth mentioning the Berdyansk branch. This branch is well-remembered by colleagues in Kharkiv: as of June 2024, the official website of the Kharkiv Nemo still lists the dolphinarium in temporarily occupied Berdyansk as part of the network. Additionally, the owners of Nemo in Kharkiv do not fully comply with the Law “On Ensuring the Functioning of the Ukrainian Language as the State Language” on their website. Although it technically has a Ukrainian version, part of the menu and other content, even the logo, remain in Russian.

Shady Land Deals and Animal Cruelty: Other Allegations Against Nemo

The Nemo dolphinarium has repeatedly faced accusations of animal abuse. At the beginning of this article, we mentioned bloggers filming sea lions not in the dolphinarium but in a hotel room at Nemo. Guests of this hotel complex get entertained not only by sea lions but also by dolphins. This can be seen in photos and videos on social media from people who have stayed at the Nemo Hotel Resort & SPA.

The dolphins are kept in a pool near the sunbeds where guests swim with them, which violates the law “On the Protection of Animals from Cruel Treatment.” By referring to Article 25, Section 10 of the aforementioned law, you will find the prohibition against keeping dolphins in public catering establishments, hotels, resorts, and health institutions. These animals are listed in Appendix II of the Convention on the Conservation of European Wildlife and Natural Habitats under the scientific name Tursiops truncatus (tursio), or the common bottlenose dolphin.

There are also suspicions that even the pools at the Nemo dolphinarium may not be safe for the animals. 

In 2020, the Zelenyi Lyst NGO (Green Leaf), together with the State Environmental Inspection in the Odesa region, attempted a surprise inspection of the pool where the dolphins are kept. They were not allowed inside, but they managed to film the pool using a drone. The pool’s condition raises questions about whether the water volume is sufficient, whether the tent covering is too thin, and whether the water in the pool is tap water. Chlorinated tap water is harmful to dolphins, causing skin and mucous membrane issues.

This was not the only time state inspectors were denied access to monitor compliance with environmental protection requirements. Over the past five years, State Environmental Inspection employees in the Odesa region were denied access twice. However, experts were eventually able to inspect the Odesa dolphinarium in 2023 when the police opened a criminal case due to signs of animal cruelty. The State Environmental Inspection cannot disclose the conditions in which the animals are kept due to the secrecy of the investigation.

These were far from the first signs of animal cruelty. Suspicions of mistreatment of Nemo residents existed earlier. 

For example, in 2018, employees of the Odesa dolphinarium organized an unforgettable show for visitors: during a performance, a female dolphin gave birth while performing a “romantic dance.” This occurred despite the Ministry of Ecology and Natural Resources having established Rules and Standards for Keeping Dolphins in Captivity five years earlier, which, among other things, prohibited the use of pregnant females and nursing calves in public performances.

At the Odesa Nemo, pregnant dolphins are not only made to perform, but the dolphinarium also offers individual dances with dolphins for a hefty fee. Here is the price list for such services: 3,000-4,000 hryvnias [$75-100 as of June 2024] for 10 minutes of VIP swimming with dolphins. You have to wonder whether this money is worth the life of the animal. Humans can infect dolphins with deadly infections such as influenza or COVID-19. Karyna Vyshniakova, a candidate of biological sciences and head of the Marine Vertebrate Laboratory at the Ukrainian Scientific Center of Ecology of Sea (UkrSCES), highlighted this risk, “Scientific publications describe cases of bottlenose dolphins dying from the influenza A virus subtype H5N1. Additionally, scientists have discovered that dolphins have receptors similar to humans, which are responsible for SARS-CoV-2 infection.”

Moreover, there are the ubiquitous tricks where trainers ride the dolphins’ noses (scientifically known as rostrums). This can injure the animals. Experts have noted that even just being in captivity, dolphins can injure their rostrums against the pool walls. Adding the weight of 50-60 kg riders increases the risk of injury. Nemo does not seem to plan to abandon this practice. Recently, in May, UAnimals volunteers visited the Odesa dolphinarium and saw that they still have people riding on the dolphins’ noses.

Lack of Permits for Animal Keeping and Capture

In 2011, the Donetsk court considered a case against Nerum, which was accused of illegal construction and poaching. The lawsuit alleged that Nerum lacked permits for keeping wild animals and documents confirming the legality of transferring endangered marine mammals into private ownership and breeding them in captivity. 

According to the plaintiffs, the company had a permit to catch endangered animals in 2007, but all permits were annulled in April 2008. However, the company continued to somehow acquire marine animals for the Donetsk branch even after 2008. The court’s decision did not refute this information.

Unauthorized Land Seizure

The Odesa Nemo Dolphinarium is located on the territory of the Lanzheron beach. Nerum received a lease permit for this plot back in 2003. By 2007, the executive committee of the Odesa City Council allowed them to expand and build a “rehabilitation and health center for Dolphin therapy is not an evidence-based treatment method. The ultrasound emitted by dolphins does not meet the medical standards for ultrasound therapy. Besides, dolphins are wild animals that can harm people. For example, a dolphin had bitten a boy in the Nemo dolphinarium in Odesa.dolphin therapy».

Notably, the responsibility for overseeing this project was assigned to Mykhailo Kuchuk, not as a co-founder of Nemo but as the deputy mayor. At that time, the law “On Prevention of Corruption” did not exist, so such situations were not classified as a conflict of interest.

Since 2008, the company has been reconstructing the beach at the city’s request, as this plot was still in municipal ownership. However, in 2012, Nerum filed a lawsuit demanding that all newly constructed facilities on the Lanzheron shoreline be recognized as theirs. The court granted these demands and dismissed the prosecutor’s appeal. The Nemo Hotel was built with obvious legal violations as it is located less than 100 meters from the sea.

Nemo seized land during its expansion not just in Odesa. In Kyiv, the branch was established in a blatantly illegal manner: they occupied a plot of land and built a dolphinarium without permission. However, this trick did not work in the capital. The State Architectural and Construction Commission filed a lawsuit, and in 2013, the court ordered the demolition of the Nemo building in Kyiv. The founders appealed and continued to ignore the final demolition order for a long time. In the summer of 2017, the dolphinarium building was seized for large-scale fraud, and the dolphin shows ceased a few months later, in October. Unauthorized construction was insufficient for the dolphinarium’s operation, so the owners also illegally connected sewage systems to the building. In 2016 alone, Kyivvodokanal [Kyiv’s municipal water supply company] disconnected Nemo from the city’s sewer system three times, but they persistently reconnected each time.

The history of the Nemo dolphinarium network includes raiding, illegal construction, and, most disturbingly, the exploitation of defenseless animals. Despite animal rights activists’ outrage and numerous lawsuits, the Nemo dolphinarium continues to operate. Without visitors, this would be impossible. Perhaps, at least, the Russian connection in Nemo’s activities might convince Ukrainians not to support animal cruelty with their money.

20% of Ukraine’s protected areas have suffered due to the war. Some territories—valuable ecosystems, wetlands ravaged by tanks, and burned forests in the Donetsk and Luhansk regions that have been devastated by the russians since 2014—are lost forever. However, in most cases, nature has the ability to heal itself without the need for any extra conditions. The key is not to interfere.

Our common task is to assess the environmental damage caused by the fighting and hold the invader accountable with a fair bill.

In the early months of the war, we asked ourselves, “What’s next?” We cannot always stop a missile that burns forests, destroys land, and pollutes soil and water. Clearly, such incidents will continue. What can be done about it?

We studied the history of wars and reparations. The most recent case we looked into was the Iraq-Kuwait war. In that instance, 10% of the reparations were designated as environmental. However, these mostly concerned losses of natural resources—how much natural gas was burned, how many mineral deposits were destroyed, and so on. We became curious as to why there was no accounting for biodiversity loss—plants, animals, and other living organisms. History has shown that there was no proper recording of environmental crimes nor a method for calculating them. This is why we are starting from scratch.

There are several critical steps necessary to document the damage and hold russia accountable.

First, we need to monitor and catalog Ukraine’s biodiversity meticulously. Currently, we largely rely on outdated methods, but with the help of our Finnish colleagues, we are modernizing our approach. This is one of the key reforms required for Ukraine’s accession to the European Union.

Specifically, we aim to implement satellite monitoring that will allow us to track each animal rather than estimating numbers based on sightings and plugging those figures into a formula.

Second, it is crucial to document the environmental crimes that have already occurred thoroughly. Since the first days of the full-scale invasion, the State Environmental Inspectorate has been recording each crime with on-site inspections, when possible, along with photographs and all necessary evidence. The collected data is being uploaded to the EcoZagroza — official resource of the Ministry of Environmental Protection and Natural Resources of Ukraine. You can find more information here: https://ecozagroza.gov.ua/enEkoZahroza app, which any Ukrainian can contribute to.

The approaches used by the State Environmental Inspectorate are much broader than those employed by law enforcement when investigating criminal liability. There is a stark difference between proving a crime and evaluating the damage done. For instance, how can we calculate the value of a tree that has been growing for 80 years?

However, it is important to note that a full accounting of the damages will only be possible after demining efforts are completed—currently, more than 25% of Ukrainian territory is mined and in need of inspection.

In February, Ukrainian prosecutors officially notified russian military personnel of their suspected involvement in committing ecocide in Ukraine for the first time. Holding russia accountable as a whole, however, is a matter of international law. On April 2, the Register of Damage for Ukraine, which includes an environmental component, came into effect, with over 40 countries supporting the creation of this “international tribunal.”

As we continue to gather evidence of russia’s crimes against the environment, we must also address institutional changes within Ukraine. One of the most critical steps is to draft and pass a law on state climate policy, something Ukraine has lacked thus far. This policy would enable the launch of an emissions trading system similar to that in EU countries. Additionally, we have supported the European Commission’s initiative to increase the share of renewable energy to 2030. Ukraine has unique territories, such as the Chornobyl Exclusion Zone, where green energy projects can be developed on unused land, gradually turning Ukraine into an energy hub.

We are already shaping the future of Ukraine’s economy and the country’s ability to recover after the war. These issues cannot be postponed. Therefore, we must implement European standards for the use of natural resources while meticulously documenting everything for which russia will have to pay soon.

The texts in the Columns section reflect only the author’s opinion and do not necessarily align with the position of UAnimals media’s editorial team.

On June 5, 2023, at 8 p.m., hydrometeorological center workers measured the water level of the Dnipro River at 532 centimeters (209 inches) above the datum level of the Kherson stream gauging station*. 

This was a normal water level for early June.

Approximately six hours later, the invading troops blew up the dam of the Kakhovka Reservoir on the left bank of the Dnipro. Villages and towns downstream began to flood. 

A year after the dam’s destruction, eyewitness accounts have more or less settled into coherent stories. Just ask, and they flow like the water that burst through the destroyed dam. Witnesses recall the flood: they saved themselves and rescued those who were helpless from the muddy water.

June 6

Natalia from Oleshky 

It was half past four in the morning. I heard my son talking to someone on the phone. Then I heard the sound of him running. I realized something had happened. He came rushing in and said, “Mom, they called from Kherson, they say the Kakhovka HPP has been blown up.” My God!

We were at home in Oleshky. My father was 94 years old. He was immobile, so we couldn’t leave. No one believed this could happen. We decided to move to the second floor of a neighbor’s house. They had left in 2022, and we were looking after their dog, a German shepherd named Archik. So we moved everything there, dismantled my father’s bed. We wrapped him in a sheet, and my son carried him like in a sack while I helped him. That’s how we got to the second floor. And the water was coming in at an incredible rate…

Oksana from Kherson

At five in the morning, my son called from Canada, “Mom, what’s happening? We all know about the explosion.”

At first, the water was rising slowly. First, it was ankle-deep, then knee-deep. People were panicking and didn’t want to leave their homes. No one believed the water would reach the rooftops.

8 a.m. — 660 cm (259 inches) above datum level

Hanna from Mykolaiv 

I remember that morning like it was yesterday. I am a fitness coach, and sometimes people call me even in the middle of the night. So, I decided to take a break and turned off my phone. I woke up to a million calls. What’s going on? A volunteer friend from Kherson called, “Hanna, the flooding has started.” We left for Kherson.

Katia from Kyiv 

In the morning, I was told over the phone that the UAnimals evacuation team was leaving for Kherson in 30 minutes. I threw a warm sweater and a bunch of gadgets into my backpack. I forgot my toothbrush, though.

The situation was new, and no one knew how to handle a boat. Even if we got one, what would we do with it? Everyone was so scared.

Alisiya from Kyiv

People immediately started asking if the Kyiv Animal Rescue Group (KARG) would go to evacuate animals from Kherson. Of course, we decided to go. But we needed an extra boat, chemical protection suits, waders. The whole day was a rush and hustle. We finally left in the evening, the car packed to the brim.

3 p.m. — 796 cm (313 inches) above datum level 

Hanna from Mykolaiv

When it all had just begun, we didn’t see the big flood — perhaps a puddle. We were walking around with an animal catcher, leisurely collecting dogs. Then another driver of mine called me, “Get here immediately!! The entire Ostriv is flooded!”

Our eyes were as big as saucers because we had packed the car full of cages with dogs by then. We started heading in that direction — and realized there was nowhere to go! We were literally floating. In front of us, soldiers in a jeep were cutting through the waves, and we were “rowing” along with them.

I prayed the car wouldn’t stall at that moment. As soon as we made it out, the soldiers ran up to us, “Are you volunteers? Take the animals!” So we added a cat, a tomcat, kittens, and a German shepherd. And that’s how we headed to Mykolaiv.

Natalia from Oleshky

We have the Chaika River flowing nearby. People rushed to the shore to see if the water would reach us. When the river started to overflow, they ran back to their homes.

We had two German shepherds with us: our neighbor’s Archik and our Luna. We had to get them to the second floor as well. They didn’t want to go and were scared. While we were getting them up, Archik bit my husband. It was impossible to go through the door; we set up a ladder and passed the dogs through the balcony. They even jumped from the second floor into the water. Oh, the way we caught them! Archik jumped when the water was knee-deep, and my husband and daughter caught him wading through the water. The next day, Luna jumped, and my son caught her already from a boat.

The russians themselves were in shock, running away! People said many of them drowned.

Two russians floated past us on an inflatable mattress, both with rifles. They moored to a fence, one took a puppy from a yard, ripped off half a slate sheet from the roof, and continued paddling with that piece of slate.

The russians had been taking boats from people, not just before the flood but probably two months before it. So, we dragged our boats behind the houses and hid them using greenhouses. We dumped grass and sand and then covered them with rails. From above — with drones flying around like crazy —  it must have looked like a pile of firewood.

And thank God we did that. When the water was above our knees, we dismantled the rubble and prepared the boats. 

7 p.m. — 867 cm (341 inches) above datum level  

By sunset, the water had already covered the fences.

June 7

7 a.m. — 1025 cm (403 inches) above datum level

Katia from Kyiv

We arrived in Kherson with the UAnimals evacuation team. As soon as you step out of the car, you hear powerful explosions. If you’ve come from Kyiv, the contrast is immediately apparent. It seemed like I could hear an explosion every five minutes.

Alisiya from Kyiv

The first animal we rescued was a little mouse clinging to a bush. It was sitting on a twig in the middle of the water; I took it and handed it to a volunteer. The mouse was weak and needed to be nursed back to health.

A temporary animal shelter was specially opened in Kherson for this mission, where several organizations, including ours, brought animals.

The phone was constantly ringing, people were sending addresses and asking for help. We created a rough plan for the day from these addresses, but finding those places was difficult: house numbers were underwater, the navigator was inaccurate… But we did the most rescuing while looking for those addresses. There was barking from somewhere, meowing from another direction, chickens clucking, roosters crowing, and you couldn’t leave anyone behind!

3 p.m. — 1048 cm above datum level 

Hanna from Mykolaiv

We were heading towards Chaikovskoho Street. We waded knee-deep into the water, but then it got too deep to continue. We started collecting dogs, grabbing them, and putting them in carriers. Then some boys ran up, “Help our friend!” A young man around 20 years old with cerebral palsy came out. He was struggling to walk, falling, and getting back up. He had two German shepherds with him. He cried, not wanting to part with them, but his home was flooding. We took the dogs from him, and he promised to come back for them later. The water kept rising, and we retreated further, rescuing animals from the water.

That day, we saved the most famous dog. Do you remember the photo of a German shepherd hugging the leg of its rescuer? We named her Bahira. We were evacuating Bahira from Kherson.

Photographer — Danylo Pavlov / Reporters

Oksana from Kherson

We went into the water up to our necks, hurting our arms and legs. Whenever a cat or dog surfaced, we pulled them out of the water. There were ordinary people, and we didn’t even ask their names. People were dragging their belongings, volunteers were ferrying elderly people, dogs, chickens, and goats on boats.

Rostyslav from Kherson

I took two young women from the Mykolaiv Animal Protection Center — an animal catcher and a veterinarian — in the boat. We started from Naftohavan. You could float above the fences there: the water was over 5 meters deep, with only the attics sticking out.

Hardly anyone was “cruising around” there: the russians were just 400 meters away. We saw a garage for a truck, and next to it, a dog was drowning. It turned out later that its leg had been broken and healed incorrectly, so it couldn’t swim. We grabbed it by the mane, pulled it out, and began to resuscitate it. It didn’t breathe for 15 minutes. The women never gave up. The dog survived.

June 8

7 a.m. — 1060 cm (417 inches) above datum level

Alisiya from Kyiv

We had already filled our carriers with animals and were heading back to the rendezvous point. Suddenly, a rooster crowed. We looked around and saw a lot of chickens in a tree. Misha climbed up to get them, and at that moment, shelling started. The place where we would have reached in a minute was peppered with shrapnel. Thus, it turned out that the rooster saved us.

We found a hiding place for a while. We sat there and saw a boat floating by without people… What had happened there?

Then we continued with the chickens, but there were too many — about 20. There was no room for them in the boat. We found an empty plastic barrel floating in the yard and filled it with chickens. We went back like this: a motorboat, towing a rubber boat, and tied to that, a barrel full of chickens.

It was easy to go out on the water for the first couple of days, but then the shelling started. The police and the military commander began prohibiting it… One would allow it, another would not. We spent a lot of time getting permissions.

Rostyslav from Kherson

We were rescuing animals in Zymivnyk. There were many drowned dogs because people had left them chained up.

In one barn, kittens were floating under the roof. The barn was barred, so they couldn’t get out. We broke the roof and got them out. We named one kitten Jacques-Yves Cousteau, and the other remained nameless.

We also transported a goat named Torpedo by boat. We called her that because she was fast and kept running away from us. She somehow got to the second floor of a house, onto a veranda; we barely managed to catch her.

And then there was such a touching reunion between this goat and her owner! The woman stood beyond a checkpoint, and we brought the goat. She shouted, “Zorya, Zorya!” The goat replied, “Meh-eh-eh!” and ran to her owner, who ran to the goat. Such a reunion!

Hanna from Mykolaiv

The third day was the worst. We were rescuing animals in Naftohavan. They were covered in mazut and dirt, and everything smelled awful.

I was amazed at how our people came together. I had never seen volunteers help each other like this. It was probably the only day in the history of animal protection organizations where they were stealing animals from each other. I barely managed to get a dog out of the water before the carrier with it disappeared. I said, “People, you can’t do this!”

I was wearing summer shorts and a T-shirt, and that’s how I swam. But that day, people from Odesa gave us an expensive yacht, and from then on, we rescued animals on that boat.

We sailed around Ostriv, scraping the bottom against everything: you couldn’t see where you were! We would reach a fence, climb onto it, and then climb onto the roofs. That’s where we caught the animals.

We saved a dog I remember the most. I climbed onto the roof and fell through. My friend Yulia went ahead and said, “Here’s a dog standing on a board in a straight line, its paws bleeding.” The dog wanted to live so much that it stood on that plank for who knows how long.

As soon as we got the dog to shore, a woman took it in and is still happy with it. Imagine, people from shelters were not the only ones waiting on the shore; there were also people taking animals for themselves.

Once, I received an address: 24 Dorofeyeva Str. — 12 dogs, 20 cats. We sailed there, scraping this yacht, and a woman from the window said, “I told you, I won’t go anywhere without my animals!” I consider people who acted like this Anya heroes. We evacuated her with her cats and dogs.

Oksana from Kherson

I posted the first photos on Facebook, and people started reaching out to me. They said they would take the animals. So I started bringing the rescued animals to my garage, my apartment, my son’s apartment, and the apartment of my neighbor who had left. At one point, I had 80 cats at once — wet, dirty, scared. We rescued these cats, let them out, fed them, and went back again. And so it went until nightfall. There wasn’t even time to drink water!

June 9

7 a.m. — 1035 cm (407 inches) above datum level

Natalia from Oleshky

The water started to recede. By 11 a.m., we saw the first step and decided that we wouldn’t get another chance if we didn’t leave before the invaders recovered.

We got into the boat, loaded the dogs. I shouted, “Pray! Pray in any way you can!”

As we passed our house (crying), we could only see the roof. It was very painful.

We reached the river, and there… It was like an ocean! I had never seen so much water before. Believe me, was terrifying.

You could see the entire city of Kherson. Both my son and husband worked as captains, so they knew the area. We reached Dachi. Thankfully, it was our guys, our soldiers, who met us.

Archik, the dog, my father, my son, and my eldest grandson stayed in our boat and were brought separately. We took Luna, our German shepherd, and got into another boat with the soldiers, who brought us to Kherson.

3 p.m. — 1011 cm (398 inches) above datum level  

Katia from Kyiv

We got caught on an electric wire, and our boat started to sink.

Anything could be underwater. If it was an industrial area, there could be a train, and you wouldn’t know.

A man passing by saved us. He said, “I can’t come closer because I’ll get caught, and we’ll both go down to the bottom.” But he still approached and cut the wire. He mentioned that two soldiers had recently been dragged under a barge and died. No one was safe there.

June 11, 3 p.m. — 900 cm (354 inches) above datum level

June 12–18: A week after the explosion

Alisiya from Kyiv

We worked in Kherson for about two weeks. We were wet the entire time. We were constantly in the water; our clothes barely dried overnight. The water was disgusting, full of dead bodies. Then the rains started. You’d come out of the water only to be drenched by the rain. Vadym and Misha would get into their wetsuits in the morning and keep them on until night.

Once, we had to make a choice. Two dogs were sitting on a pile of debris, not coming into contact with anyone. We needed to catch them with a noose, but we only had one. We understood that while catching one dog, the other would escape. We chose the dog missing part of its paw. The other ran off across the boards and debris. The rescued dog is still looking for a home. After the initial hype wave, the interest in these animals faded.

Katia from Kyiv

I decided to make a film from the footage we shot. It was supposed to show only what I saw. I wanted these images not to be forgotten. I think few people can imagine what really happened there.

When I arrived in Kherson, I realized how hard it was to live there. It looked like hell, honestly. In such conditions, you revert to basic needs: where to get water, food… And people are united around one goal — survival.

Some people stay in Kherson to feed stray animals. I know an old woman, Tetiana. She says, “The animals wait for me every day at two. And I must go feed them.”

June 20. When the Water Receded

3 p.m. — 560 cm (220 inches) above datum level 

From the Hydrometeorological Center report: as of June 23, the water level has stabilized at values characteristic of the Dnipro River’s hydrologic regime.

Oksana from Kherson

When the water receded, everything was in a terrible condition. The stench was unbearable! Many animals had died. People were carrying everything out of their apartments; there were heaps of trash everywhere. All those refrigerators, washing machines — everything was ruined and useless. On top of that, there was shelling. The heat was unbearable, and we were delivering humanitarian aid and animal feed in bulletproof vests.

Natalia from Oleshky

We kept the neighbor’s German shepherd until volunteers sent Archik to Poland to his owner. We also had to give away Luna because we had to move to an apartment in Mykolaiv. We didn’t leave until we found her a place. She now lives in the Mykolaiv region with a man who has a house and garden. He sends us videos showing how she’s doing.

Hanna from Mykolaiv

For me, Bahira symbolizes this tragedy. My friend Liudmila Melnykova from the Moyi Zhyvi Sobaky (My Living Dogs) Odesa shelter took care of her for a long time. Bahira was not young and had to spend two days in the water. She could barely walk. We hired a rehabilitation professional who worked with her daily.

She couldn’t tolerate other dogs or cats. She only loved people. It was tough to find her a home. We searched for a year—a whole year! The whole world knew about her; everyone asked, but no one took her.

Only in February did I take her to the parents of a friend. She doesn’t leave her owner’s side now. She just loves people so much.

Oksana from Kherson

I kept several cats; I couldn’t part with them. Now, I have nine cats. And 28 outside. I know all of them!

They come every morning. I feed both cats and dogs. Every evening, I cook two 5-liter pots of porridge. I give one to my neighbor, Aunt Tania. She distributes food to the animals but is afraid of the shelling; she always asks if there’s an alert or if it’s over. I say, “All clear,” — and she is already running with those buckets.

Oksana looks into a cage with a kitten

Natalia from Oleshky

People usually sympathize, but some say, “Well, we were also under shelling, so what?” The scariest thing was hearing people cry, “Help!” at night — almost the whole night. Even talking about it now gives me chills.

This has become a part of us.

***

Told by: 

Hanna Kurkurina — powerlifter, athlete, animal rescue volunteer, living in Mykolaiv. 

Natalia —  a resident of Oleshky, formerly a telephone operator, now living in Mykolaiv.

Alisiya Polykha — animal rescuer with KARG (Kyiv Animal Rescue Group). Accompanied by Mariya, Mykhailo, and Vadym. 

Rostyslav Kulyk — volunteer with the Strong Because Free organization, owner of a pit bull and three cats from Kherson.

Oksana Synenko — medical worker, volunteer, and animal rights advocate, living in Kherson.

Katia Krokha — documentary filmmaker, videographer for UAnimals, living in Kyiv. 

Interviews by Nataliya Pendiur — 508 cm (200 inches) above the datum level of the Kyiv stream gauging station.

This publication was compiled with the support of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation within the framework «European Renaissance of Ukraine» project. Its content is the exclusive responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union and the International Renaissance Foundation.

Hydrological levels at the Kherson stream gauging station were provided by the Hydrological Forecast Department of the Ukrainian Hydrometeorological Center.

Main photo: Associated Press. Other photos provided by the interviewees and KARG, unless otherwise stated in the caption to a photo.

This problem is not immediately obvious, but its consequences can affect everyone. And we can all do something for fish.

Simply saying that there is a decrease in fish in Ukraine might sound like typical lamenting about the past when trees were taller and the grass was greener. It does not impress.

We could turn to statistics that show a decrease in the “stock” of fish as a natural resource. In the first two decades of independence, these “stocks” decreased by six times. Since then, according to the estimates of fish protection authorities, the situation has only worsened, with some formerly common fish species in our waters becoming rare or nearing extinction.

But I believe more in what I have seen with my own eyes. I’ve spent all my conscious life near Ukrainian water bodies, observing fish. An emptied river or lake, where life used to rage and splash, is unmistakable — like an uninhabited house or a deserted city.

Except for ichthyologists, environmental activists and avid sports fishermen, people are not very concerned about the decrease in the population of fish in the water, which is not surprising: humans and fish exist in different dimensions. Fish do not sing like birds, flutter like butterflies or entertain us like squirrels in the park. Even when we approach their environment, fish are only shadows, glimmers in the depths and circles on the surface to us.

I have long observed that most people’s associations with fish are primarily gastronomic. Try posting a photo of river fish on social media, and the comments will start pouring in: “fish soup, ‘taranka’ (dried fish) for beer, carp in sour cream, stuffed pike…” Other animals — even the “meat breed” mammals — are not automatically perceived as a future steak or roast. The silent death of a fish weighs so little that it is bought and brought to the kitchen still alive. By analogy with dehumanisation, we can say that fish as the most de-animalised creatures by humans. Even the meat of fish in Ukrainian is not called using a special term for it, like chicken or veal, but simply “fish” — no linguistic difference between alive and dead fish.

In the lives of connoisseurs of forshmak (a dish made of salty minced fish or meat) and sushi, nothing would change even if all the fish disappeared from the basins of the Dnieper, Dniester, Prut and both Bug rivers. Shops mostly sell imported fish. Even before the start of the full-scale war, the catch by Ukrainian fishermen satisfied only 15-20% of the demand. In 2022, industrial fishing in Ukraine decreased several times compared to 2021, so now the share of domestic fish in legal sales is negligible.

However, this decrease can be explained by the fact that fishing in the sea in the occupied territory is no longer included in the statistics, and in some regions, industrial fishermen don’t go out to sea due to hostilities. The chances of restoring fish populations in rivers and lakes due to reduced industrial fishing are not increasing significantly. That’s because other factors causing the decrease in fish populations haven’t disappeared; on the contrary, some have been added.

First of all, this is water pollution. In addition to industrial and animal husbandry emissions, pesticides, herbicides, fertilisers and waste, there are “products” of war — explosives, fuel and other atypical “chemicals.” In some cases, like recently in the Ternopil region, these cases are documented, but what’s happening to water bodies in the combat zone and the front-line strip is beyond our knowledge. It’s difficult to assess the damage from poisoning the Dnieper and the Black Sea due to the Kakhovka tragedy. On March 22, due to rocket hits on the Dnipro Dam, petroleum products were spilled into the Dnieper — so much that the environmental damage was estimated at 140 million hryvnias; although the Minister of Environmental Protection and Natural Resources of Ukraine Ruslan Strilets suggested that it could be much higher.

Fish are not the only victims of russia’s ecocide, but they are among the most vulnerable: they have nowhere to escape from poison. So, 40 years ago, several hundred kilometres of the Dniester died out due to waste emissions.

“Chemicals” kill fish in another way as well. Fertilisers from fields and gardens, entering rivers and reservoirs, cause explosive growth of microscopic algae — the water “blooms.” In such conditions, fish can’t breathe, they die and, decomposing, poison the water even more.

The second reason for fish loss is poaching. Even before the full-scale war, unofficial estimates suggested that poachers caught more fish than legal industrial fishermen. Penalties for illegal fishing in Ukraine are substantial, but the severity of the law is offset by its optional enforcement. Fishery officers don’t always manage to be everywhere and don’t always work conscientiously. Moreover, poaching tools are becoming more effective. The most despicable of them — the “electric rods” that kill everything alive in the water — were supplemented by cheap Chinese nets made of thin thread. This upgrade of the age-old method allows depleting water bodies of everything that swims, and poachers, unlike industrial fishermen and the State Agency of Fisheries, don’t care about population restoration.

Development and destruction of riverbanks also interfere with fish. Concrete embankments, sand extraction and artificial beaches where there used to be reedbeds. This strikes at places where fish live, especially where they breed. The ban on building on riverbanks is probably the most shamelessly ignored law in Ukraine. The ichthyofauna of a concreted water body becomes as impoverished as the vegetation of an asphalted yard.

Hydroelectric damming, which turned large rivers into lakes of almost stagnant water and stopped fish spawning migrations, is another complex topic. But hydroelectric power stations are being built even now — on small rivers in the Carpathians, where vulnerable, whimsical and rare fish species live: trout, grayling, Danube salmon. Their reproduction often depends on migration. The price of a bit of “green” energy is a dead river.

Companies damaging the ichthyofauna are sometimes forced to compensate for the damages — by stocking the water body with young fish. The trouble is that various fish species die, and mostly the so-called valuable ones (in terms of consumption and cooking) are stocked.

And then there are the introduced species. Within a few kilometres of your home, there’s probably a pond with reeds, water lilies and frogs. If you had gone scuba diving there several decades ago, you would have seen crucian carp, tench, pike and loach — fish species known in our area since Neanderthal times. Now it is home to the Asian silver carp, American channel catfish, Amur sleeper and the ubiquitous pest fish — the stone moroko. They are hardier and more prolific, so they rapidly displace local species.

Not only invasive fish species harm: water bodies are overgrown with Canadian waterweed, which is tellingly nicknamed the “water plague.” To clear the thickets, people introduce herbivorous and, again, Far Eastern fish, such as silver carp and grass carp. There’s also an “air plague”: the cormorant, once a seabird, has settled in rivers and lakes throughout Ukraine. In some languages, its name means “glutton” for a reason: the bird can eat up to a kilogram of fish per day.

Of course, for people who can’t tell a perch from a herring, the substitution of one fish species for another in rivers and lakes is a minor trouble. However, the disappearance of habitual biological species triggers a chain of changes that threaten ecosystems and the environment as a whole.

And finally, non-sport fishing. Fishing is one of the most widespread hobbies. It’s simple, accessible to everyone and can be relatively inexpensive. Although people fish mostly for excitement, relaxation and communion with nature, all the fish that have been caught are supposed to be taken home — if not for oneself, then for a neighbour’s cat. The person who comes back from fishing with a bag of catch is praised, while the one who returns empty-handed is laughed at.

There is a daily limit of permitted fish catch for amateur fishermen — three kilograms. This is another tradition: to measure fish in kilograms. However, a “kilo of crucian carp” can include dozens of undersized ones that will never spawn again. Or a couple of pregnant females — then instead of thousands of future fish, there will be “tasty pancakes with carp roe”. And then there are complaints that there’s been a lack of fish lately.

In spring and early summer, there’s a spawning ban, but it’s not universal (you can fish within populated areas from the shore with one rod), and there aren’t enough patrols to chase everyone attracted by the “spawning frenzy”. On many water bodies, fishery officers have never been seen. Of course, fishermen there won’t be bothered by either spawning bans or legally established minimum sizes of fish to keep. Moreover, modern high-tech fishing gear, as opposed to the old-school hook and float, allows catching more, especially small fish that haven’t had time to spawn.

“How much will they catch there!? Just a few tails,” they’ll say about a person with a fishing rod.

But when dozens of people take several individuals from a limited population every day, the time will soon come when it will not be able to reproduce. This is especially detrimental to ponds, lakes and small rivers, where fish cannot migrate from elsewhere.

In the civilised world, fishermen adhere to the “catch and release” principle. Caught fish are carefully removed from the hook and returned to the water if they are not severely injured. Somewhere this principle is applied voluntarily, while somewhere fishing is forbidden altogether. In combination with expensive licences and strict control, the “catch and release” principle makes amateur fishing less accessible to the masses and thus it protects fish.

In Ukraine, the “catch and release” culture is not very widespread yet, and even enforcing rules on fishermen is not very effective. So much depends on our goodwill.

If, while resting on the shore, you see someone fishing with nets or otherwise violating the rules, call the fisheries patrol. If you see someone dumping poisonous substances or waste into the water, throwing garbage or anything else, call the police.

If you fish, release your catch. If someone from your family or friends is fishing, encourage them to release rather than take home. The culture of perceiving fish as food, as always a legitimate and desirable trophy will not disappear instantly, but it can gradually become a thing of the past.

I’ve been passionate about fishing since childhood — it’s a hobby, a passion and a family tradition. It took me some time to embrace the “catch and release” culture too. What helped was the realisation that fish were beautiful. They’re interesting, graceful, perfect components of our vulnerable, fragile nature, which, once lost, cannot be artificially restored. We can’t admire them like flowers, birds or squirrels in the park, but it will be great to see many circles on the water again and know that there are fish.