My Life in the Zoo

Having a family always leads to the inevitable, your life becoming a zoo.

Did you ever imagine that one day you would wake up and realize you lived in some sort of zoo? I guess it comes with the territory, wife, kids, and then zoo. The kids were the main reason for collecting our Zoo specimens, but I think they are more like one of the exhibits than zoo keepers and anyone who has young boys can attest to this. You feed them with bowls of human chow in the morning, rake out their cage, and wash them so they don’t stink, the standard zoo animal treatment. I will have to admit they’re my favorite animals on display.

So besides the boys, may be asking yourself what other animals are in the zoo? First there is the dog. Did nature really approve of this dog? I’ve got to wonder if the half Pekinese and half Chihuahua was a mistake of nature or daddy was simply a Chihuahua with a stepstool. Regardless how he came to be, this dog of wonder is on the job keeping his house safe from passersby and squirrels. With a yawn and a stretch he starts his day by being tossed outside, the glass door slides open so he can do his business, but he spots two furry seed munchers sitting under the bird feeder eating breakfast. With the speed of a terrier he bounces at the intruders. The squirrels casually head up the nearest tree and chatter at the dog. If you had a squirrel translator you would hear them saying something like “Hey slow poke, my grandma can run faster than you, lead bottom”. Of course it’s all lost on the dog because he doesn’t speak squirrel. He lifts a leg, then wanders back to the door looking to be let in for a little dog chow.

And what about the furry suburban rats that we call squirrels? Do you ever wonder why there are so many of them? We live on the end of a dead end street and cats are everywhere, you would think they would be the perfect snack for a cat. They are plump and fat filled with rodent goodness, very tasty looking morsels for your average house or feral cat. The cats use every stealth tactic in the book. Like little lions on the Savanna they stalk their prey, inch by inch moving closer to the bird feeder where messy finches have knocked lunch on the ground for the squirrels. But what the cats don’t know is that squirrels are Ninjas; they train from the time they are born in their secret lairs in the art of acrobatics and kung fu. They let the cats get close, and when a cat pounces in for the kill our furry rodent friends bust a move that would make Jackie Chan cry. Then up the tree they go, “Your mama was a lead bottomed dog, nice try slow poke.” They chatter. Of course the cats don’t care, they don’t speak squirrel.

Our next exhibit on display are the chickens, in their pen they watch the cat/dog/squirrel spectacle with curiosity. Chickens are descended from the mighty Tyrannosaurus Rex, and having a brain the size of a nut they don’t understand much. They are always looking for a cast away cob of corn, left over sandwich, or yesterday’s salad. You keep your fingers away from the little peckers because your digits look to them as tasty as anything else thrown in the pen, and you know they will try and eat you as soon as they get the chance. And why not, everyone wants to eat them, because after all they taste like chicken.

This leads me to the final exhibit in the zoo, Guinea Pigs. They are the cutest rodents in the animal kingdom, they squeak when they want hay, squeak when they want water, squeak when they want carrots, and squeak when you open the fridge! For the love of ZEUS someone stop all of the incessant squeaking!!!

I slurp some coffee, I’m better now.