MEBANE — To see Riley the tiger sunk to his whiskers in a 100-gallon tub, swishing his tail like an oversized kitten, you’d never guess he’s shipping out to Iraq.

No jitters show on Hope’s striped face as she lazes in a mud puddle nearby, even though she and her mate will soon be stars of the war-torn Baghdad Zoo.

These big cats, raised in captivity deep in the Caswell County woods, represent 500 pounds of fur-covered progress in a war that seldom brings good news.

The Baghdad Zoo barely survived the Iraq war’s early days. Prized animals were looted or shot. An ostrich was fed to starving lions. An American soldier shot and killed a Bengal tiger that attacked a colleague trying to feed it through cage bars.

But now soldiers and Iraqis describe the zoo as the rare spot in Baghdad where you can forget about war. Sitting just outside the Green Zone, it reminds visitors of normal life. For 25 American cents, you can growl at a bear, laugh along with a hyena, point at a porcupine.

“You just feel safe,” said Capt. Jason Felix, whose unit is in charge of the zoo. “It’s like you’re not really in Iraq. It’s kind of the one real success story.”

In December, Felix decided the place needed a tiger — a marquee animal that would really draw crowds.

The zoo already had lions, some of them Uday Hussein’s personal pets. But they don’t crouch like tigers, fold their ears back and pounce on their mates, playing and fighting like dangerous toys.

Word reached Mindy Stinner at the Conservators’ Center in January, across an ocean and through mountains of paperwork. The military wanted a tiger for the Baghdad Zoo. Her first thought: Unsafe.

She and Douglas Evans keep 87 animals at Conservators’ Center, counting a pair of domestic dogs.

Hidden on 45 acres outside Mebane, they share space with three red foxes, a pair of gray wolves, lions, tigers, bobcats, lemurs, kinkajous and bintarongs — often called Asian bearcats.

It’s a hobby that took over their lives, got them to quit their regular jobs and separate from their spouses. They’re not strictly a sanctuary because some of their animals breed, but they are never for sale and the center is open for tours only by appointment — usually for kids.

They usually take animals from places shut down by U.S. Department of Agriculture, including 14 lions and tigers in 2004 from a single owner who had been feeding them rancid meat.

Some get placed at new sites, including a pair of big cats on loan to the Greensboro Natural Science Center.

But this time, Stinner and Evans were being asked to find a pair of tigers for a zoo they had never seen — a first.

They got assurance from three separate veterinarians in Iraq, either with the military or USDA. They saw pictures of the cages online and took comfort in the trees and swimming pool the tigers will use.

“These are our children,” said Stinner, 40. “We don’t have any other kind. There are so many parents who have sent their kids off to Iraq with less assurance than we have.”

Still, Stinner didn’t have the right tigers. She wanted them young, able to adapt. Riley and Hope, both just over a year old, came via donation from another sanctuary in North Carolina, which asked to stay anonymous. For the last six months, they have gotten used to each other in Caswell County.

“Riley is a big baby, cuddle-bug kind of a whiny baby boy,” said Evans, 52. “Hope is a lot more mature. You don’t think she’ll have to wear a burqa, do you?”

The transfer hasn’t pleased everyone. To get permits for tiger travel, the plans had to be published in the Federal Register and receive comments.

People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals has since sent out nationwide notice of their opposition, calling it “cruel and irresponsible to put tigers in harm’s way in a country where most of the people don’t even have access to basic necessities.” In its notice, the group mistakenly calls the center a roadside zoo.

Both the center and Felix in Baghdad put their trust in the veterinarians who have arranged the deal — and who couldn’t be reached this week. Civilians safely walk through the zoo each day, Felix said.

“A lot of people ask us, ‘It’s a zoo, why aren’t you doing sewer, water, electric?” he said. “It’ll be huge. It’ll be huge. The bears make a big difference. One of the bears just had a little cub.”

Stinner and Evans tried not to get attached to Riley and Hope, knowing they couldn’t stay. But they twitch their ears, rub their faces on the fence and make a “chuffling” sound as a greeting, and it’s hard to keep a hard heart.

They imagine them instead in their oasis, bringing a smile to an Iraqi who hasn’t seen much to laugh about for years.