Nature red in tooth and claw...
... or so that old saw goes. We sure did not see it at Disney's Animal Kingdom. Everything was squeaky clean, calm, and very unbloody. In fact the animals out on the 'savanna' seem to think of their existence in the land of Mickey as a job. Every morning they are roused from their comfy straw piles, and sip their morning jo before heading out of their compounds for a day in the hot central Florida sun impersonating wild beasts. Mostly they lay around and sleep a lot, but you know how grueling that can be when thousands of tourists are staring at you from noisy little land rovers and expecting you to be more photogenic. Even the tigers wanted to sleep under the shade.
Then, as it approaches quiting time at 5 o'clock the well trained beasts line up patiently at the entrance of their pens for the whistle to blow so they can punch their time tickets and get their evening meal and, at last, a chance to sleep.
Fun, informative, but not very 'exciting' if you know what I mean. No chase. No kills. No blood.
We had to come home for that.
The first day back I was calmly, not to say comatosely, setting at my kitchen table drinking coffee and reading some Toynbee when I hear a loud ominous THUNK from the front of the house. I go to our great bow window to look. There on the ground right in front of the window is a bird flopping around. Its head is bent at a frightening angle and one side of his body seems paralyzed. With the one leg and wing that works he is trying to get up.
I am beginning to weigh the need and means to put him out of his misery when suddenly their is a flash of white and black fur out of nowhere. It's Fluffy Pasha, the weird cat who lives in the box on the porch next door. He scoops up the bird and mauls it for a fraction of a second. Then he settles down to watch the poor fellow try to get up again.
I suddenly remember something very important to do in my study. When I return 30 minutes later Fluffy Pasha is gone. So is the bird.
btw, Leo the little lummox was out in his room on the other side of the house. A fraction of a second before Fluffy Pasha exploded into my vision Leo started barking at him. That was at least 50 feet away. Fluffy is no mean sprinter for his age (and breeding).
... or so that old saw goes. We sure did not see it at Disney's Animal Kingdom. Everything was squeaky clean, calm, and very unbloody. In fact the animals out on the 'savanna' seem to think of their existence in the land of Mickey as a job. Every morning they are roused from their comfy straw piles, and sip their morning jo before heading out of their compounds for a day in the hot central Florida sun impersonating wild beasts. Mostly they lay around and sleep a lot, but you know how grueling that can be when thousands of tourists are staring at you from noisy little land rovers and expecting you to be more photogenic. Even the tigers wanted to sleep under the shade.
Then, as it approaches quiting time at 5 o'clock the well trained beasts line up patiently at the entrance of their pens for the whistle to blow so they can punch their time tickets and get their evening meal and, at last, a chance to sleep.
Fun, informative, but not very 'exciting' if you know what I mean. No chase. No kills. No blood.
We had to come home for that.
The first day back I was calmly, not to say comatosely, setting at my kitchen table drinking coffee and reading some Toynbee when I hear a loud ominous THUNK from the front of the house. I go to our great bow window to look. There on the ground right in front of the window is a bird flopping around. Its head is bent at a frightening angle and one side of his body seems paralyzed. With the one leg and wing that works he is trying to get up.
I am beginning to weigh the need and means to put him out of his misery when suddenly their is a flash of white and black fur out of nowhere. It's Fluffy Pasha, the weird cat who lives in the box on the porch next door. He scoops up the bird and mauls it for a fraction of a second. Then he settles down to watch the poor fellow try to get up again.
I suddenly remember something very important to do in my study. When I return 30 minutes later Fluffy Pasha is gone. So is the bird.
btw, Leo the little lummox was out in his room on the other side of the house. A fraction of a second before Fluffy Pasha exploded into my vision Leo started barking at him. That was at least 50 feet away. Fluffy is no mean sprinter for his age (and breeding).
posted by Clemens | 12:49 AM
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