A Beastly Day

I had the theme song from (the original) Dr. Doolittle going through my head as I meandered through the zoo last Saturday.

"Keep your trunk jokes to yourself, shorty."

It occurred to me, however, that I’m not sure I’d want to hear what the animals have to say. There was a universal ennui, especially among the larger creatures. Aside from the gorillas and monkeys, who can be counted upon to engage in frenetic activity (hence, the term, “monkey shines”), the critters at the zoo were very low key.

As in sleeping. All day. Honestly, it was like hanging out with my cat. The tiger did open his eyes and stare at me. One of the leopards raised her head, gave me the stink eye, and went back to dreamland. The black bear moved his head. A little. There was an occasional rumble, probably a snore. But hardly any motion.

Still, it was a good day to wander and gape. Warm weather in late October is always a wondrous thing. And some of the species were mobile. You gotta love the elephants. If you wanted to design an animal, how would you even get to an elephant? That trunk. Those tusks. The huge feet that could squish you like a bug. And yet, they seem so laid back. So carpe diem. 

The elephants and giraffes are lucky because they have more room to roam than other large animals. Although it would appear that all giraffes really need is a tree or two to gnaw on, and they’re good. Bend down, chew, look around. Repeat.

Kangaroos are pretty awesome. And present another interesting design. How did the idea of a pouch come about? One of the ‘roos at the zoo must have given birth recently – she was toting around her youngster, who appeared to be in danger of falling out of the pouch, as mom hopped here and there and here again.  

"You can keep your shrimp, Barbie. I want the good stuff."

While I was touring the Australian Outback section, which employs every known cliché for anything from Down Under, I popped in to see the lorikeets. You walk among them, flying about, their colored wings flashing by your head. Thanks to the kindness of one of the other visitors, I was able to feed the birds. (No, not tuppence a bag, that’s another movie song.) It was a sticky, liquidy substance they go crazy over. I had one persistent dude who didn’t want to give it up, even when the stuff was gone. He climbed all over my hand, pecking away, until someone else came along with the goods. Fickle bugger.

After three hours traversing the length and breadth of the place, I decided my final stop would be the rainforest.  Always cool, but very sad to watch the number of rainforest acres steadily declining on the digital ticker. 

All in all, a day well spent. I have mixed feelings about the zoo. It’s cool that you can go somewhere to see animals you’d never be able to otherwise. But it seems unfair to those in captivity, no matter how habitable their surroundings might be. 

Another observation: The majority of people there had children. Why is the zoo considered a must-visit for kids but not adults? Do we lose our sense of wonder as we age? 

I must admit, it had been a very long time since I was at the zoo. My son was in kindergarten or first grade. 

But I resolve not to wait another too-many years before my next visit. And maybe – just maybe -- more of the inhabitants will be awake for my return. 

 Nah, you're right, probably not.