Zoo Cruelty

My old friend Mark and I have a long-standing tradition of making regular buddy trips to the L.A. Zoo. It started many years ago when I bought him a zoo membership for his birthday and continued regularly during the rest of the years that I lived in L.A. On average, we'd visit a couple of times a year to see the new exhibits, eat Kettle Corn, gossip and generally catch up. It's always a fine time; but since Madeline was born and we moved up north, I haven't been good about setting aside time for it. I wanted to remedy that, so this last weekend we set a plan for a zoo visit.

Unfortunately, the temperature in Griffith Park on Saturday topped 110 degrees. More than 98% of the animals were hiding in their enclosures -- completely invisible to the slim hardcore crowd of sweaty tourists. Those few intrepid critters who did venture out looked like this:



Frankly, it just seemed cruel. To be fair, though, I think that photo fairly summarizes how I felt about our trek that day as well. I was wilted and weary about 10 minutes into the first loop; but my not-so-subtle pleas to Mark that we consider packing it in and adjourning to a neighborhood pub were ignored. For reasons that aren't clear to me, he veritably thrived in the swelter. Hours later, he was still like a Gila Monster on holiday at the shore, he was -- well, see for yourself:



It still baffles me.

Baby Owls and the Rooftop Comedy Festival

By now, you probably realized that if you don't like either cute furry animals or stand up comedy, you're probably in the wrong place. But what about those rare days when I can combine the two? Impossible you say? Watch and be amazed!

While viewing some bits from the Aspen Rooftop Comedy festival over at Punchline, I found this wonderfully simple piece by Matt Braunger about the dangers of baby owls. Sounds silly, but I especially love it because recently two of my favorite hiking trails on the island were *closed* because of attack owls. That's right -- renegade owl attacks made in broad daylight. We have no gang activity here on the island, but apparently it is still possible to get mugged in broad daylight while hiking through the Grand Forest. By an owl. That, alone, stikes me as funny. So I was especially pleased to see a comedian who appreciates the unadvertised dangers of a life lived near birds of prey. Enjoy.

Got yer goat

Please meet a key critter in my life: Robin. He is a miniature goat and lives with his partner Batman at the edge of Madeline's woods, on the south side. His hobbies include munching blackberry bramble, long walks on the beach and butting heads with Batman (which is actually adorable and in no way as gay as it sounds).

Everyone seems to think that goats are difficult and stubborn -- but not true in this case. Robin is sweet, funny and loyal as a puppy. All around great company.

Backyard Bambi

This little fawn was born in our backyard last Spring. We have been watching him grow up since then and it has been amazing. The picture of him laying in the grass is how we first spotted him -- barely visible, his eyes still closed. His mother had left him in the tall grass for protection and it's a great scheme -- you can totally understand why fawns are born with those cute spots -- he literally blends right into the forest floor. The next picture shows his first steps after Mom came back and reached up to nurse. Since then, we have seen him learn to walk, run and bound through the woods. Did you know that happy deer actually bounce -- lifting all four hooves off the ground at once? Amazing to see. A few months later, the spots began to fade. A few months after that, he started to grow antlers. By the end of this Spring (so any day now?) I suspect he will be ready to sire a fawn of his own. Truly incredible to watch all of that from our back window -- out of the corner of my eye while supervising Tinker Toy clean-up and trying to listen to Countdown.