This summer/fall, the Minnesota Zoo had two tiger cubs being streamed online twenty four hours a day.
Because of extenuating circumstances, like the descent of human kind into cubicle-dwelling cave monkeys, I watched the tiger cubs daily. I learned their feeding schedules. I scrutinized their little furry bodies for any understanding of their sex (extremely difficult as they moved a lot, while the camera did not). I texted regular updates to my family and friends. I became uncomfortably familiar with the lower halves of their keepers’ bodies. In ritualistically gazing upon the tigers, I discovered their patterns and attitudes. It was a ‘Gorillas in the Mist’ situation. Except I was miles away, pretending to look busy.
I named the tigers Meanie and Wimp. Meanie picked on Wimp a lot, and Wimp – she took it.
Fortunately, Wimp is also a tiger, so taking Meanie’s abuses really just means a lot of adorableness.
Now the tigers are outside and have real names. Fortunately, just as cute:
Today my mom and dad and sister are in town. They say 25 degrees is too cold to go to the zoo. That’s too bad, because I think they would really get along with Wimp.