One of my normal zoo passages entailed a quick glance at the alligators and the monkeys. Monkeys sometimes got a longer pause unless they became angry and started throwing their poop. Most people skipped the snakes and spiders, but everyone seemed to love watching the otters and seals. Everyone, nowadays, usually avoided the elephants because those gray giants were controversial. I often wished I could feed them peanuts or offer them a fruit. It made me sad that they were deserted when they were so social and acted as if they enjoyed the interactions with their trainers. But they were herd animals, and it was sad to think they’d been stolen from their friends and relatives.
But back to the crowds of people. The afternoon mostly brought the parents to the playground where the kiddies had fun on the monkey bars and other climbing equipment. An ice cream cone came after that, and then it was time for the gift shop. I saw the families exiting the zoo several hours before it closed. I suppose the check off on their bucket list was fulfilled. I sometimes heard the parents making promises to their children that they’d all return soon. That was a happy thought. Zoos had a lot of expenses.
I had splurged on a pass since I revisited frequently. My zoo outings required lingering. I took my lunch and studied the felines. They were my favorite. The only time they peeked at me was early in the morning. In the evening, when I stayed with them that long, the predatory animals were too busy pacing, hungry for their dinner.
But moments were caught, moments when the huge male lion rubbed his head against the female. I liked to think that meant love, but it’s doubtful. We humans tended to relate all gestures to our own human behavior system. But there were also the cubs, who made playtime so highly entertaining. I often laughed when they charged each other or ran about like wind-up toys at the peak of their energy level.
My least favorite of the zoo animals were the flamingoes, which seemed to be many people’s favorite. I couldn’t stand the smell of them. They reeked. But I’ll admit that from a distance, they were pretty, and standing for hours on one foot was pretty amazing. That was a stunt I’d never achieve with my gawkiness.
I explained my usual habits to Timothy, and he said he was game to try it my way.
“I’ll pack a lunch,” I told Timothy, but he shook his head. “This is my date. I get to choose the contents of our picnic basket.”
As we continued our zoo discussion, I explained how I’d heard that the San Francisco and San Diego zoos were the best. Los Angeles has a nice zoo, too, or at least, I’d been told so. San Jose just has a little children’s zoo. “There’s not that much to see, but I like to visit anyway.”
Timothy looked thoughtful a moment. “Then we’ll go to San Francisco. Or we could make it an overnighter and head down to San Diego instead.”