OK, I ran for it. I admit it. I got freaked out. I mean, I was raised in a bathtub. That’s where I learned to climb walls. Pretty cool for an alligator, huh?
But look at these people. Wouldn’t you run too?
 |
 |
OK, I was swimming in some lake, nostrils on top. I smelled chicken, so I crawled up on land and bang–they put me in a cage. Next thing I know, people are pushing my snout down, wrapping me in a towel like I’m a baby, and carrying me to some dirty swimming pool in the zoo.
What’s an alligator to do? Why are all these people watching me lying there like a log, waiting to see if I bite something? And why do they keep playing that song saying “You can check out any time you like but you can never leave”?
What is this–Hollywood?
|
|
Reggie, the lovable alligator dumped in a Long Beach lake by his loser owners when he got too big, is back!
This week also brought us a grizzly bear attack and aftermath. It follows the death threat against little Knut the Polar Bear and the pet food panic. Last spring, a coyote in Manhattan was a huge story, even as Californians used to real Wileys said WTF. There’s West’s incredible cover piece on Cheeta, 75-year old survivor of Hollywood’s golden era. Lucky and Flo. And .
Alligators, bears, monkeys and coyotes don’t buy papers. But people who care about them apparently do. Is reading about animals a respite from the depressing doings of humans? Do animal stories pull like Hollywood tales? Do they bring the call of the wild to sedentary urban people? Or are animals part of the reader’s idealized family, as in this 1939 (!) shot of Cheeta with Johnny Weismuller as Tarzan and Maureen O’Hara as Jane.
Or has what was once the summer silly season become a year-round media game of trivial pursuit?
