This is the second of three posts documenting three separate visits to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in Colorado Springs, Colorado. The purpose of these posts is twofold; first, these photos were taken before I had this blog and hence have not been properly documented for posterity, and second, perhaps one can see the progression of my photographic skills, such as they are.
These photos were taken with the Nikon D200. If you want to see the full-size versions, they will be in THIS SmugMug Gallery. Visit the SmugMug gallery is to see all 129 photos in the series. For them not wanting to read my ramblings, there’s also a gallery at the bottom of the post.
Also, unlike most of my posts, these photos are not presented sequentially.
What follows is my recollection of what I heard that day in May. The animals were reenacting and recounting one of their favorite stories.
“The meeting will come to order!”
“I’ll have a carrot cake.”
“I’ll have a granola wafer.”
“Not funny, you two; this is serious business. We are here to decide the fate of Humans. Now, behave, because I got my eye on you!””
“Right. So . . . Humans. We’ve had a number of reports from various residents about abusive behavior. For instance, One of our very own lost her tail because the female needed something called a “duster.”
“Yeah, and I can tell you it hurt like the Dickens!”
“Hey! Careful with that name. I heard that guy had a falling out with The Boss.”
“Really? He went up against the Big Kahuna hisself?”
“Yeah; something about a power struggle. BTW, don’t let The Boss hear you call him that or you’ll be digging dirt for the rest of eternity.”
“Are you serious? What, he’s insecure, or something? Got no sense of humor?”
“Careful, little one. You bought into the hype. The Boss is neither benevolent nor loving. Piss him off, and you’ll be grounded for life. Just ask the Penguins.”
“Wow. I’ll be careful. I just hope he didn’t hear me. He’s supposed to hear everything.”
“Actually, he’s pretty selective, and recently he’s not been paying much attention. Just try praying for something and odds are you’re better off taking matters into your own hands; he don’t answer anything these days.”
“I sure hope you’re right.”
“Look, we don’t have much time. Can we get back on topic? Are there any other grievances?”
“Well, humans pluck my feathers whenever they feel like decorating stuff.”
“You? What about me? Sometimes, my ass is so sore that I can’t sit down for weeks on end.”
“Look! Look, I tell you. The fluffy ones are still growing back.”
“Anymore, I have to run and hide whenever I see them coming. I mean, look at these; they are beautiful, but it takes me months to get them like this!”
“What’s your problem?”
“They’re just taking your feathers; they’re clearing my habitat, man, trampling on my nest, smashing my eggs. I have a low reproductive rate; do you see any chicks around? No, you don’t! ‘Been two years running we got no young ones.”
“I say we get rid of them!”
“They take your eggs, eh? Well, they EAT me. Chop me up and cook me, sometimes offering me up as a sacrifice to The Boss. I can’t take it anymore, not knowing from one day to the next if I’m going to be their lunch . . . and dinner.”
“Wait; are we seriously talking about getting rid of them? Casting them from the Garden?”
“What do you suggest we do? Ask them nicely? They got dominion, man; they don’t care.”
“The Boss made them out of mud, didn’t he? I know my way around mud; I could rough them up a bit.”
“I could beat them with this twig. I hear they believe in corporal punishment; they would surely get the message.”
“Got me a chain, too; I could show them the chain of command; the one I beat them with if they don’t listen to our demands.”
“Let’s get serious here; are we really talking about doing this?”
“Isn’t The Boss gonna get upset if we chase them out?”
“Wait for a second, guys. I kind of like them, and I’ve been getting friendly with them. They’re not so bad.”
“Yes; we can all see your brown nose.”
“Now, now, no need to get personal. I got a better idea; how about I get friendly with them as well, and once they are comfortable with me, I’ll trip them when they are going downstair, or maybe try to suffocate them while they’re sleeping.”
“That seems too obvious. We could try to infect them with a deadly avian virus. That way, it will look natural.”
“No, man; you need to wait for a mutated strain; right now, nothing we got will transmit to them.”
“You got some ideas?”
“Yeah. Me and my friend have been talking, and we need to do this on the sly. Tell them, Bob.”
“Yeah, we’ve worked out . . .”
“Wait; your name is Bob? Really?”
“Yeah. What’s it to you? And what’s up with the toupee?”
“It’s not a toupee; it’s my real feathers. And there’s nothing ‘up’; it makes me look Presidential.”
“Presidential? What does that even mean?”
“Never mind. I’m smart and I don’t have to prove it to you. Plus, what’s that you’re eating? Grass? Sad; real sad.”
“I’m a herbivore, you pompous . . .”
“Hey, do I look Presidential, too? I think I should be in charge. I’m the smartest guy I know. I can fix everything. In fact, I can have them leave on their own accord and even get them to thank us when they go. What do you think about that?”
“What I think about that? Let me tell you what I think about that.”
“Right here’s what I think about that.”
“Is that the number of friends you had before your flea died?”
“No, this would be your wit if we doubled it.”
“Fight! Fight! Fight!”
“Hey, hey! Make love, not war!”
“What the heck are you doing?”
“Aww, man, I was trying to look sexy.”
“Bunch of losers!”
“Want to know how to do this?”
“You ask a pro, is what you do. Someone who’s used to sneaking around.”
“Over there; ask that guy.”
“Whatever you decide, just leave me out of it.”
“Bunch of morons!”
“Hey! I resemble that remark . . .”
“. . . and who’s he talking about?”
“He’s talking about me.”
“Look; it’s simple. I’ll get my cousin, the snake, to talk them into eating The Boss’s prized apples. That is sure to get them tossed out; The Boss loves them apples and was stupid . . . er . . . trusting enough to leave them right where they can get them.”
“That is an excellent plan. You should get . . . SHHH! They’re coming back. Act like nothing’s happening!”
“Yo! Adam and Eve! What’re you kids up to? Named any good species lately? I was talking to the Aardvark and he was asking why two a’s in the . . .”
I think I got most of it right. Understand, it was seven years ago and I’m getting old. Sure, the photos help trigger memories, but . . . anyway, that’s what I remember about that day.
For them interested in only the photos and are not SmugMug bound, here they are, all 129 photos randomly presented for your enjoyment:
That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.
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. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.
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