What if something as simple as a plant could shape a predator’s welfare?
Some of the most important decisions look like planting a tree.
It’s not something most people associate with conservation, or with working alongside large carnivores. When people think about big cats, they think about feeding, behaviour, enrichment, maybe research. Not planting, pruning, or deciding what vegetation belongs inside an enclosure.
Recently, I’ve become involved in gardening at a big cat sanctuary, learning under the guidance of head gardener Des. Over this time, I’ve started to piece together his years of practical experience with my own academic background, and it’s completely changed how I see this work.
What initially looks like simple landscaping is actually something much more complex. Every plant, every patch of cover, every open space becomes part of how an animal experiences its environment. For a big cat, that environment is not just something they exist within. It shapes how they move, where they rest, how they observe their surroundings, and how they respond to both animals and people around them.
And that’s where this starts to matter. Because these decisions don’t just influence behaviour. They influence physiology. Animals are constantly responding to their environment. Visibility, shelter, noise, human presence, and spatial structure all play a role in shaping their stress response.
At its core, landscaping in animal enclosures is about structuring space in a way that supports natural behaviour and reduces unnecessary stress. That might sound straightforward, but in practice it means that every physical element within an enclosure contributes to how an animal interprets and responds to its environment.
Take visibility, for example. For a predator, visibility is not neutral. In the wild, exposure can increase vulnerability, while cover provides security, hunting advantage, and control over interactions. Translating that into a managed environment means that the presence or absence of vegetation directly influences how an animal perceives risk.
Research in zoo and animal welfare science consistently shows that access to refuge and hiding opportunities is associated with reduced stress-related behaviours and increased behavioural diversity. Animals given the ability to remove themselves from view or control their exposure to stimuli are better able to regulate their own responses.
In practical terms, this means that planting is not just about adding cover, but about how that cover is distributed.
Is it dense enough to provide true refuge, or just visual clutter?
Does it create clear pathways for movement, or restrict them?
Does it allow the animal to observe without being seen
These are subtle differences, but they change how an animal uses space.
The same applies to spatial complexity. Environments that are too open or uniform tend to produce more predictable movement patterns. Animals may pace, repeatedly use the same routes, or show limited behavioural variation. In contrast, structurally complex environments encourage exploration, varied movement, and more natural patterns of activity. This has been demonstrated across species, where increased environmental complexity is linked to greater behavioural diversity and reduced stereotypic behaviours, both key indicators of improved welfare.
But complexity is not just about adding more elements. It is about how those elements interact. A single tree in an open space does very little. The same tree, positioned alongside varied vegetation and terrain, becomes part of a network of movement, cover, and vantage points. This is where landscaping becomes design. And importantly, these design choices scale up into physiological effects.
Environments that allow animals to regulate their own exposure, choose where to rest, and move unpredictably are more likely to reduce chronic activation of the stress response. Over time, this supports better overall health, from immune function to reproductive success. So while planting may appear to be a small or secondary task, it is in reality part of a much larger system. It sits at the intersection of behaviour, physiology, and welfare. And it reinforces a broader point. We are not just placing animals into enclosures. We are shaping the conditions that determine how they experience those environments.
If landscaping sits at the intersection of behaviour, physiology, and welfare, then the decisions behind it are rarely simple.
In practice, each choice is shaped by competing factors. What supports behaviour may not be safe. What benefits welfare may be difficult to maintain. As a result, enclosure planting becomes less about designing an ideal space, and more about working within real-world constraints.
One of the most immediate considerations is safety. Not all plants are suitable for use within enclosures. Some are toxic if ingested, others may cause irritation, and certain structures can pose risks depending on how animals interact with them. Plant selection is therefore not just horticultural, but biological, requiring an understanding of species-specific behaviour.
But safety alone does not determine suitability. There is also the question of durability and interaction. Big cats actively engage with their environment. They climb, scratch, dig, scent-mark, and manipulate their surroundings. Planting will often be damaged or altered. This is not a failure of design, but a reflection of natural behaviour. The reality is that landscaping is rarely permanent. It becomes an ongoing process of adaptation, where some elements are reinforced, others replaced, and some accepted as temporary. The goal shifts from maintaining a fixed design to creating a system that can respond to change.
This links closely to behavioural function. Planting can encourage or limit behaviours depending on how it is structured. Dense vegetation may support stalking or resting, while open areas facilitate movement or visibility. Even small changes in placement can influence how an animal uses space. However, these decisions are shaped by practical realities. Space is limited, infrastructure is fixed, and what is ideal is not always achievable.
There is also a balance between privacy and visibility. Animals need the ability to withdraw from view, particularly in environments with constant human presence. At the same time, monitoring, management, and the day-to-day functioning of a zoo require a degree of visibility. Landscaping must navigate this balance without compromising welfare.
Finally, there are ongoing constraints. Enclosures must remain accessible. Vegetation must be manageable. Growth, seasonality, and available resources all influence what can realistically be implemented and maintained. Cost is also a constant consideration, shaping not only what can be introduced, but what can be sustained over time.
Taken together, these factors show that landscaping is not a one-off intervention, but an adaptive process shaped by behaviour, environment, and constraint. And importantly, each decision feeds back into the same principle. The environment is not separate from welfare. It is one of the primary ways in which welfare is experienced.
The role of the environment in shaping animal welfare is rarely spoken about. Yet it sits at the core of how animals experience both managed and natural systems, making it just as relevant to conservation as it is to enclosure design. In zoos and sanctuaries, there are people behind the scenes consciously designing environments. Every decision is visible, intentional, and often constrained. But in the wild, those same principles still apply, just at a different scale.
Habitat structure, cover, fragmentation, and human disturbance all influence how animals move, behave, and experience stress. The difference is that in natural systems, these changes are often less controlled and more difficult to reverse. In this sense, enclosure design becomes a simplified model of a much larger problem.
If a lack of cover within an enclosure can increase vigilance and alter behaviour, what happens when that loss of cover occurs across an entire landscape?
If spatial complexity supports natural behaviour in a managed setting, how does habitat simplification affect species in the wild?
These are not separate questions. They reflect the same underlying principle. Animals respond to the structure of their environment, whether that environment is an enclosure or an ecosystem.
What changes is the scale and the level of control we have. It also highlights an important shift in how we think about conservation. Conservation is often framed in terms of protecting species or populations. But increasingly, it requires us to think about how animals experience the environments we are protecting or restoring. Not just whether habitat exists, but how it functions.
Does it provide refuge?
Does it allow for natural movement?
Does it reduce unnecessary stress?
These are questions that apply as much to landscape-scale conservation as they do to enclosure design.
What this ultimately highlights is how easy it is to overlook the impact of small decisions.
Planting rarely feels like a defining part of conservation or animal care. It sits in the background, practical, routine, often unnoticed. Yet, as this work shows, it is part of a much larger system that shapes how animals experience their environment on a daily basis. A change in vegetation is not just a visual adjustment. It can alter movement, behaviour, exposure, and the ability to rest or remain unseen. Over time, these changes influence stress, health, and overall welfare.
The same principle applies far beyond individual enclosures. If environmental structure shapes how animals behave and respond in managed settings, then it plays an equally important role at the scale of ecosystems. Habitat loss, fragmentation, and simplification are not just changes in space. They are changes in how animals experience risk, refuge, and movement across landscapes.
In this sense, conservation is not only about protecting species or restoring habitats. It is about understanding how those habitats function from the perspective of the animals within them. Not just whether space exists, but whether it provides:
Security
Choice
Complexity
And the conditions needed to reduce unnecessary stress
This shifts the focus slightly. From managing animals, to designing environments. From presence, to experience. And it reinforces a final point.
What looks like a small decision is often anything but.