Philly Zoo, The - All Creatures Dumb and Ugly (Part 3)

The remainder of the reptile world was less fruitful. Most of the creatures were hiding behind the features of their various terrains. The skinks were the busiest but the least alluring. The snakes had no game. A few shed skins laying around and a motionless coil amidst the rocks or branches. There was, however, a poised cobra. A magnificent serpent whose legend is merited. That slinky, wavering tube of venom was every bit as menacing as the images from old East Asian adventure pictures. The basket and flute lore personified. An ugly kid was fucking with it, tapping the glass and laughing, and I thought of the sweet justice of a desperate strike, the sound of shattered glass, high-pitched screaming and the writhing of a chubby, dying boy with a pierced throat who would learn never again to fuck with the primal forces and instincts of nature.

My dream was snuffed by the tugging on my arm of Simone, who wanted to venture on to the Serengeti.

"You were imagining that fat kid's death by snakebite, weren't you?", she posed as we passed the frozen drink hut.

"Of course I was", I snarled, "I'm getting a guano slushie. You want anything?".

"Nah, I'm good."

On our way to the man eaters and majestic beasts of the African plains I began to notice a proliferation of squirrels, average American tree squirrels, darting and flitting all about. "Is this paradise for them?" I wondered. Or some sort of nightmarish, predator-filled hell where they have traded out the dangers of death by four wheeled nemeses for the fanged horror of being eaten whole by beasts who they otherwise never would have encountered in their natural surroundings?

They certainly seemed healthy enough - plump, fully furred, nibbling, wide-eyed and playful. There were plenty of trees and fauna about. It was better than living out on the streets of Philly, climbing telephone poles and balancing on power lines. Challenging the birds for scraps of discarded cheese steaks and the occasional bits of human remains that litter the landscape. Then I got to thinking.

The zoo is a squirrel's paradise.

Along with the normally preserved natural habitat of a zoo area, the mock ups of the wild throughout the confines assist in creating a buffer for the small woodland mammals. The predators who would feed on them in an actual setting are continually sated with food by the keepers. They don't have the hunger or desire to go chasing after tiny little annoyances like squirrels. So the squirrels are essentially free to frolic about, collecting their nuts, eating the dropped food of the patrons and even stealing grub from the larger beasts themselves whilst they nap. Which is quite often, I can tell you. They parade around with such vigor that it's almost as if they are mocking their caged contemporaries.

"That's right, Motherfucker", they gibe, "I come and go as I please. Look at me! I'm inside the cage. I'm outside the cage. I'm going to go take a shit in that infant's stroller right now, just for laughs. Maybe later I'll piss in your water dish. I drink your milkshake, baboon. Baaah!".

Also, there are no homeless people at the zoo, so an impromptu squirrel roast on a spit or extemporized stew is out of the question. The mean streets of Philly are a distant memory for these little guys and gals. More power to them. Someone needs a break around here. Especially in this economy.

I was drifting. Simone realized it. She suggested a quick visit to the monkey region. Perhaps she thought there would be more pooping to rekindle my flagging interest.

It worked.