PANDA SNACKS
It will never cease to amaze me, like pilots who run airplanes out of gas, the number of people who, when visiting a zoo, feel compelled to get "up close and personal" with the exhibits. And like pilots who run out of fuel, despite the long track record of unpleasant outcomes, these tiger-huggers also ignore the unpleasant snacking history of large zoo animals.
In Beijing last week, GuGu, a 240-pound Panda, had his third encounter of the close kind. His first was in 2007 when a drunken tourist succumbed to that overpowering desire, which we all have, to hug a Panda. GuGu, not interested in a long-term relationship with a functioning alcoholic, bit the smitten tourist. In retaliation, the hammered human bit GuGu back. I wonder sometimes, if it is not we who should be in the pens, with a Noah's Ark like parade of beasts sauntering by and staring at us.
In October, GuGu seriously bit a teenager who had climbed into the pen out of curiosity. Curious, no doubt, as to what a Panda bite feels like, his wondering was sated as GuGu enjoyed his second human fruit-rollup. Now, not to be outdone, Zhang Jiao, pronounced "Damn! Wow!", became GuGu's third party snack last week. Zhang had jumped into the pen, after looking around to see if any Pandas were nearby, to retrieve his son's toy. Ironically, he became GuGu's toy and zoo workers had to use an iron bar to release the Panda's hold on Zhangs legs. GuGu is, afterall, however cute and cuddly, a 240-pound bear. That's what bears do.
I had a close friend who kept and dealt in exotic animals and also kept them available for public viewing on a somewhat limited basis, until eventually opening the Greenville Wildlife Park. His fondness was for large cats, and his favorite, among about a dozen, was "Thunder", a 900+ pound Bengal, or Siberian, Tiger. I had known and played with Thunder since his birth, and felt a connection with him that allowed me to be on a very short list of people who could enter his pen. I stopped playing with him after he exceeded about 250 pounds and only once entered his pen, when he weighed about 960 pounds. His head was the size of a washing machine. He was gorgeous, his purr sounded like an approaching helicopter, but he would nuzzle and play like an overgrown housecat. Having had the opportunity to be this close to animals of that magnitude is one of my fondest memories. At one time, my wife and I watched a litter of five tiger cubs while my friend and his wife were out of town. They had to be bottle fed every two hours, 24/7. It was a wonderful experience, watching people who would visit slowly figure out that they were not kittens. They growled and had paws the size of an English Muffin, even at just several weeks old.
Even with that experience, I never lost sight of the fact that they were, at the end of the day, not human. My friend Glenn, a real-life Dr. Doolittle, would sleep with his lions, literally. But that was him, he had raised them and even at that, he understood the risk. I often suspected that he understood he would probably die in the awkward transformation from man to snack, but accepted it as the price for having such an exceptional existence. I understand that often uncontrollable urge to hug and snuggle with things that look cute, but they're not Webkinz, they're wild things.
The sad part is, like the tiger last year at the San Francisco Zoo that killed a drunk who leapt into his cage, that often it is "three strikes and you're out" for the animal. There has been no word yet on GuGu's sentencing, but you can bet there will be pressure to dispose of the animal, or relocate him. In my opinion, like hikers who get lost in the mountains in a snowstorm wearing sneakers and a tee-shirt, at some point you've got to send people a "Stupid Bill". Just put your check in the mail. It will be sad to see a cute, fuzzy Panda be punished for doing nothing more than being a Panda. These majestic creatures sacrifice much, the ones that end up being the display model. They offer us a glimpse into another world, a close-up view of creatures more mighty than we, and the least we can do is let the chips fall on the right side of the poker table. Indeed, as they say in poker..."I'm all in", the same could be said of someone whose big toe is the only thing sticking out of a Panda's mouth.
Karl From New Hampshire