Fifteen minutes before Friday’s showtime, the freshly bathed and manicured Cora seemed to know she shouldn’t be digging in the dirt.

But just like a 9,000-pound child in her Sunday best, the 44-year-old Asian elephant just couldn’t help it, according to her longtime trainer, Bill Morris.

“They’re my babies, and [showtime] is just another chance for them to play,” the 55-year-old Morris recently said of his three elephants, the eldest of which, Cora, has been with him for 40 years. “I grew up with her more or less.”

For Morris, this year – his 11th at the Anah Temple Shrine Circus in Bangor – is expected to be marked with protests in a state where pending legislation banning elephant acts has made headlines in recent weeks.

The legislation, sparked by the 7-year-old daughter of Rep. Christopher Muse, D-South Portland, sailed through the House of Representatives but crashed and burned in a skeptical Senate, which defeated the measure 26-8.

Before the elephant act – the final act at Friday’s 38th annual Shrine Circus – the ringmaster proudly proclaimed the defeat of Muse’s bill, which would have been the first of its kind in the nation had it been enacted. About a half-dozen other states have considered similar legislation in the past two years, but none has been signed into law.

But in the wake of the Senate defeat, Muse said this week he would introduce an amended version of the bill that would allow elephant acts to come into the state, but require stricter standards for the care of the huge animals and added protections for onlookers.

“I am not an animal activist, but it is pure abuse to take three animals the size of those elephants and crate them around from town to town to perform foolish tricks for our enjoyment,” Muse said. “The elephants in this country are getting old and you can only poke someone for so long before they get mad and poke back.”

Those who profess the danger of elephant acts often point to a graphic 1994 video in which Tyke, a 21-year-old circus elephant, trampled to death her trainer and injured about a dozen spectators before police gunned her down in the streets of Honolulu.

Morris and his 38-year-old wife, Cindy, concede that there are some “bad apples” – both elephants and trainers – in the small industry, but take exception to protesters’ claims that animal abuse is inherent in the profession.

“If they really didn’t want to be here or do what they’re doing, there’s nothing I would be able to do to stop them,” said Morris as Cora gently grabbed his wrist with her trunk and tried to lead him toward a nearby pail of grain. “If I were abusing these animals, do you really think they’d just stay here and take it?”

Morris’ elephants are but three of about 280 used in fairs and circuses nationwide, and less than 1,000 in captivity in the United States, which stopped importing elephants in the mid-1970s.

In the days before this year’s circus, Cora and Morris’ two African elephants, 17-year-old Shannon and 16-year-old Linda, have drawn their fair share of pre-show crowds behind the Bangor Auditorium. After school, throngs of children line the fence along Buck Street to watch the elephants lumber around the grounds or perhaps get a bath on a particularly warm day.

But excited youngsters are not the only ones interested in the elephants’ daily routine.

Jodi Renshaw, a 27-year-old student at University College in Bangor, had her video camera rolling Thursday looking to document what she called the elephants’ unnatural conditions.

Renshaw, a member of Maine Friends of Animals and organizer of planned weekend protests at the circus, said the demonstrations were geared to raise awareness of the unavoidable suffering the large animals endure as part of circus life.

“Even if we animal advocates were put in charge of the circus, we could not find a humane way to travel these animals from town to town or to force them to do unnatural tricks. It is impossible,” said Renshaw. “The very nature of these types of circuses is inhumane, no matter how caring a trainer may or may not be.”

Renshaw does not concede that Morris is the caring father figure to the elephants he professes to be.

In fact, armed with a list of U.S. Department of Agriculture violations for inadequate elephant care against Morris’ Gibsonton, Fla.-based company, Elephant Encounter, Renshaw is all the more determined to call attention to what she characterized as the elephants’ poor health.

Morris this week classified the USDA violations as minor, including infractions for having the cover off a barrel of grain and failure to update veterinary records in a timely manner. “If the animal rights people saw her now, they’d probably say she was having a seizure,” Morris said as the playful Cora kneeled down and rubbed her face in the grass earlier this week. “They don’t know these animals, and they see what they want to see.”

Morris was quick to supply the Bangor Daily News with the elephants’ current veterinary records, which outline the required regimen of care. He also provided the operation’s daily logbook, required by the USDA to hold an elephant trainer’s license.

The physical differences between the full-bodied Asian elephant and the thinner African elephants have prompted misguided criticism from passers-by, who have commented on how “skinny” the 4,500-pound Shannon looks, Morris said. While it is true that Shannon has suffered from poor weight gain in the past, according to USDA records, her prescribed diet has been successful in keeping her weight up, Morris said.

The smaller Linda, who has a deformed right knee, has also drawn comments from a few onlookers, concerned about the elephant’s health, Morris said. The deformation, according to veterinary records, was likely caused in infancy by a vitamin deficiency, long before the Morrises purchased her at the age of 4 years. And while the Morrises considered surgery, veterinarians at Penn State University last year advised against it, and instead prescribed a special diet and exercise program.

As a result, the shy Linda does little in the show that could put strain on her legs, Morris said.

A third-generation elephant trainer, Morris is no stranger to criticism or demonstrations.

Earlier this month at Portland’s Kora Temple Shrine Circus, about a dozen protesters waving placards and wearing elephant costumes showed up in front of the Cumberland County Civic Center.

While Morris said he supports the protesters’ rights to demonstrate, he was dismayed when he found about a dozen fliers in the elephants’ trailer after the Portland show.

The fliers, some of which were found near the elephants’ food, read “Babar, king of the elephants, says to release his friends or be haunted forever.” Fearing radical activists could have poisoned the food, the worried trainers conducted a thorough cleaning of the trailer, Morris said.

Renshaw stressed that this weekend’s planned protests were not targeting the Shriners, who have nothing to do with training or displaying these animals in their circus. She did, however, ask circus officials to consider only animal-free acts.

Here in Bangor, Morris was not surprised to hear that there would likely be protests outside the circus considering the current political climate in the state.

“I understand what they’re trying to do, and I really believe they’re for the welfare of the elephants,” Morris said of both the protesters and those who supported Muse’s legislation. “But so are we.”

Performances at the Anah Temple Shrine Circus will be at 10 a.m., 2 p.m. and 7 p.m. Saturday and 11 a.m. and 3 p.m Sunday.