Seal Marks Her 50th Birthday at a Sanctuary

In this undated image made available by Cornish Seal Sanctuary shows Sheba the seal at the Cornish Seal Sanctuary in Gweek, south west England. (Barry Williams/Cornish Seal Sanctuary via AP)
In this undated image made available by Cornish Seal Sanctuary shows Sheba the seal at the Cornish Seal Sanctuary in Gweek, south west England. (Barry Williams/Cornish Seal Sanctuary via AP)
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Seal Marks Her 50th Birthday at a Sanctuary

In this undated image made available by Cornish Seal Sanctuary shows Sheba the seal at the Cornish Seal Sanctuary in Gweek, south west England. (Barry Williams/Cornish Seal Sanctuary via AP)
In this undated image made available by Cornish Seal Sanctuary shows Sheba the seal at the Cornish Seal Sanctuary in Gweek, south west England. (Barry Williams/Cornish Seal Sanctuary via AP)

As gray seals go, Sheba is grayer than most.

The grand dame of the Cornish Seal Sanctuary is being celebrated Saturday for her 50th birthday, far surpassing the lifespan of a seal in the wild and possibly being the oldest in captivity.

"Reaching 50 is a huge milestone, not just for Sheba but for everyone here who has been part of her journey," said Tamara Cooper, curator at the facility in southwest England.

Things weren't looking bright for the young pup when she was rescued from a Cornwall beach in September 1974.

Ken Jones found Sheba with a head injury and nasty eye infection and took her home where he and his wife, Mary, rehabilitated seals in a pool.

As Sheba grew up, so did the rescue operation, moving from Jones' backyard to the Helford River in the village of Gweek and expanding to rehabilitate over 70 seal pups a year.

Sheba’s condition, including loss of vision, prevented her return to the sea and she’s now outlasted all of the other creatures who have come and gone, making her a favorite fixture at the facility.

Sheba’s longevity is attributed to the care she’s received and advances in veterinary medicine.

Seals typically survive 25 to 30 years in the wild, Cooper said. Females in captivity can live to 40 while males live to about 30.

Spook, a male gray seal born at the New York Aquarium in 1965, had been believed to be the oldest seal in captivity when he died weeks shy of his 45th birthday in 2010.

While Sheba's well-known and well-liked by the public and her handlers, she's not the most cooperative creature.

When she was raised by Jones, his focus was on rescue, rehabilitation and release, said Heather Green, an animal care specialist. There was no training for the animals that stayed behind until more recent years.

She has been reluctant to learn new tricks, such as being rolled over for inspections of her belly, flippers, tails and teeth. When it comes to receiving drops for her milky eyes, she does well some days while on others she waddles her mottled-fur frame away and splashes back into the pool.

"She's a bit stubborn," Green said. "She’d been so used to just being fed and not having to work for her fish that even now she still protests slightly. If we ask her to do any behavior or something, it’s all on her own sweet time and she’ll definitely let you know if she’s up for training or not."

The public has been invited to her so-called seal-abration, where she'll be sung "Happy Birthday" and presented with a specially made ice caked topped with the number 50 and mackerel and herring.

"She’ll eat any fish," Green said. "She’s not particularly fussy."



Beauty Salon Near Ukraine Front Offers Brief Respite from War

Maryna Skromnaya didn't think twice about making the 40-minute to the salon. Genya SAVILOV / AFP
Maryna Skromnaya didn't think twice about making the 40-minute to the salon. Genya SAVILOV / AFP
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Beauty Salon Near Ukraine Front Offers Brief Respite from War

Maryna Skromnaya didn't think twice about making the 40-minute to the salon. Genya SAVILOV / AFP
Maryna Skromnaya didn't think twice about making the 40-minute to the salon. Genya SAVILOV / AFP

Maryna Skromnaya was ready to face shelling and explosions to get her hair done at a salon in Pokrovsk, the eastern Ukrainian city under intense Russian attack.

"I need to stay beautiful rather than run around looking like Baba Yaga!" she said, referring to the mythical forest witch who feasts on children.

Her blue eyes now framed by a fresh bob cut, the frail 57-year-old stood up from the hairdresser's chair and flashed a peace sign in a brightly lit mirror.

The salon's roaring trade exemplifies how thousands of Ukrainians living in partially deserted and shelled-out frontline towns are trying to cling to a sense of how things used to be, AFP reported.

Its pristine white-walled salon is a rare pocket of normal daily life in Pokrovsk, even as Moscow's forces less than 10 kilometers (six miles) away, are closing in.

The mining city was home to 60,000 people before Russia invaded.

Its population has plunged from around 48,000 to 16,000 over the last month, according to the authorities, who are urging all residents to leave.

Skromnaya was preparing to heed that advice, but wanted to savor a few final moments at home.

That included a haircut at her favorite spot, even if it meant a 40-minute walk to get there.

"Public transport? You may as well lie down on the floor waiting for it. It's gone," said Skromnaya.

'Always something exploding'

"You can always start walking, turn your music on, go feel beautiful," she said.

But venturing outside in Pokrovsk these days is perilous.

"There were bangs here, bangs there, there's always something exploding," Skromnaya said, waving her arms left and right.

Inside the salon, the buzz of hair clippers and blow dryers barely covered the thuds from the front line, some seven kilometers away.

Facing increased Russian bombardments, the authorities have ordered residents to stay inside their homes for 20 hours a day.

So would-be customers were constantly rushing in, pleading for a slot in the narrow window between 11:00 am and 3:00 pm -- outside the strict curfew.

"Look at me, I look like a bum!" one man joked, lifting his cap to reveal a slightly uneven cut.

Salon worker Natalya Gaydash shook her head apologetically. He didn't have an appointment.

The team was doing its best to squeeze in as many clients as possible.

"The war is not a reason to just lay down and die with your hair undone, your nails unclipped and dirty," said 32-year-old Gaydash.

The salon will stay open as long as the Russians are far enough away, said owner Ludmila Kovaleva, who opened the place five years ago.

"How can you stop going to work if people are waiting for you?"

'Empty soul'

"People come for a slice of positivity," Gaydash said.

"Some come to share their problems ... others share a bit of joy with us."

Feeling fresh and handsome after his trim, 54-year-old Yury Chaplygin beamed, revealing a few golden teeth.

"There's a good atmosphere, you can drink coffee as you wait for your turn," the locomotive driver said in a deep voice.

The few remaining workers from a nearby market, now mostly closed, hustled round the salon's coffee machine, sharing gossip for a few minutes.

Another beauty salon just round the corner, owned by Kovaleva's sister Iryna Martynova, recently shut its doors.

"Clients used to get served by my sister, then go see me, then go back to my sister just like on a merry-go-round," Martynova said wistfully.

But people stopped trickling in after the evacuations stepped up in August.

Martynova's salon is now empty, save for a few shelves covered in blue plastic wrap.

The door was cracked in a recent shelling attack.

"This is not normal, and with every day that passes it's getting even more abnormal. I've already made up my mind, I'm leaving," Martynova said, tearing up at the thought of having to start all over again.

She was taking some comfort that her former clients, now spread all across Ukraine, have already started calling her to see where she'll go and if they can make a booking.

"This is my life's work, my favorite job. I'm left without it. My favorite clients, I've known them all for years. Now my soul is empty."