EXOTIC PET OWNERS BECOMING A TRULY RARE BREED.

Byline: Alan Gathright San Jose Mercury News 

When Gilroy's Al and Henia Burtoni hit the road in their younger days, they'd load up the RV with the kids, the dog - and their pet mountain lion, Brandy.

"Brandy was dog-gentle. She liked to ride in the sink in the RV and she'd swim in the river with the kids," said Al Burtoni, 58, who has owned four cougars, an African lion and a wolf during his 25-year fascination with exotic animals.

In a California where freeway commuting is what most people consider "the jungle," an alligator thrives in a suburban Belmont back yard, raccoon-like kinkajous frolic in a Palo Alto home and a Petaluma woman tries to breed endangered Southeast Asian leopards.

Only about 200 Siberian tigers roam the wild, but one of the world's biggest cats lived for 21 years in a private La Honda compound until it recently died of old age.

In the face of mounting political opposition and state restrictions, owners of exotic pets cling to a passion that requires nonstop devotion, financial sacrifice, physical risk and bureaucratic hassles.

Why do it? Because these beast masters are a rare breed all their own.

They say they're summoned to both possess and protect nature's most majestic and fascinating creatures by a personal call of the wild, a chance to share a special bond with animals that can never be truly tamed. They speak reverently about what it's like when, say, a 650-pound tiger lovingly licks your face - when it could decapitate a man with a swipe of its paw.

"When you develop a close, respectful relationship with tigers, you are blessed to be able to walk them and go into their cage and rub heads with them and kiss them," Gary Butler said of the Siberian tiger and the Bengal tiger that he and his ex-wife raised in the hills outside La Honda.

The long friendship ended in late December when the Butlers' 400-pound Bengal tiger, Moses, died at age 22 and their 650-pound Siberian tiger, 21-year-old Spartan, died days later. The cats' demise wasn't unexpected: Both had lived three times longer than wild tigers and they'd been afflicted with arthritis.

Exotic pet owners, like the Burtonis and the Butlers, are also a vanishing breed in California.

While people may still own a variety of exotic reptiles and birds, the state Department of Fish and Game has prohibited the possession of most wild animals as pets since 1987, while allowing people to keep critters obtained before the ban.

Existing owners must annually renew permits that mandate sufficient cage size, amenities and construction, and undergo twice-yearly inspection by Department of Fish and Game officials or veterinarians.

Some private owners complain that the state makes exceptions for celebrities such as Tippi Hedren and Michael Jackson to possess large, private menageries.

But Department of Fish and Game Capt. Phil Nelms said Hedren's and Jackson's compounds aren't considered private collections. He said Hedren's wildlife shelter in Acton is a professionally staffed "old critters home" for the many aging animals that have gotten too infirm for zoos, television or film. Jackson's Neverland Zoo is an accredited, well-staffed zoo that occasionally allows public visits.

Authorities remain staunchly opposed to keeping wildlife as pets, saying irresponsible ownership often results in abused animals, attacks on humans and disinterested people releasing creatures into the wild where they can threaten native species.

Martine Colette, founder of the Wildlife Waystation, a 160-acre center in Southern California's Angeles National Forest, has rescued more than 55,000 exotic animals over the past 30 years.

Once, she rescued a lion cub found chained outside the St. Louis Zoo. Another time she retrieved a grown African male lion that was abandoned in the men's room of a San Fernando Valley gas station.

Interestingly, dedicated exotic-animal owners discourage people from tackling the "huge commitment" of caring for wild creatures.

Just ask Barbara Kollin, a Palo Alto veterinarian who for 15 years has raised three kinkajous - small, furry, rain forest creatures. She rescued the trio while working at the Peninsula Humane Society after a male kinkajou escaped from an illegal breeder and sought refuge in the warmth of a Colma Laundromat dryer.

"He would go through your pockets looking for goodies and lick your ear," Kollin said. But at night, after shelter staff left, the nocturnal kinkajous turned into tiny terrors, she added.

"They're very smart and very agile. They'd pick the locks on their cages, get out and just trash and pillage and eat everything, including the birds in the wildlife shelter. We'd return in the morning and everything would be destroyed and they'd be innocently curled up asleep," Kollin recalled.

Kollin spent $3,000 to build the animals a special room with a concrete floor and heating system.

"I can see people, not knowing how messy and what pain they can be, wanting to have them," Kollin said. "But . . . like other wild animals, they generally don't make good pets or they would have been domesticated."

Exotic-animal owners can be as shy and elusive as their animals. Owners interviewed for this story were tracked down through Department of Fish and Game permits, but several were wary of showing the location of their animal compounds. The Belmont man who owns a 4-foot alligator declined to give an interview.

Atop Al and Henia Burtoni's 50-acre hillside ranch outside Gilroy, a sleek cougar named Countach - after a Lamborghini sports car - gives a chirping mew as the couple walks up to its 17-by-70-foot fenced compound.

"Come on, sweetheart," Al Burtoni said as the cat comes up to the fence and licks his fingers.

"It's a bond that is forged through kindness, love and affection," said Burtoni, who sells exotic Italian sports cars for a living.

The couple says it's satisfying but hard work maintaining their menagerie: a cougar, a hybrid wolf, a horse, a dog and a throng of domestic cats. Care and feeding of the cougar - which eats chicken, liver and occasionally wild game - costs about $1,000 annually.

"When I go out in the evening to feed all the animals, it's like therapy," said Henia Burtoni. "You get to pull away from the telephone and the desk and business finances and just unwind and talk to the animals."

Exotic-animal owners stress that no matter what affection they've shared with their animals, they're under no delusion that the creatures are tame.

"They're wild animals and you need to read the physical signs of the animal," Al Burtoni said. "If their ears lay back and their eyes are dilating, you've got to back off and leave them alone."