I love large, toothy, dangerous beasts. Bears. Sharks. Tigers. This is probably why I love my husband, Jon. He’s giant, handsome, has a reputation for perpetual unfriendliness and the most masculine case of “Resting B**** Face” I’ve ever encountered.
People often send messages to the effect of “Is Jon mad at me?” after we hang out. It’s just his face. Well hidden behind perfect beardy scruff and dour eyebrows, though, is a deep well of gleeful silliness. When I mention trips to that hidden oasis, Jon says “Pics or it didn’t happen”, because he has exactly 3 jokes that are not about football. You get what you ask for I suppose….
My love of large, toothy, dangerous beasts often leads me to the Zoo like a siren call. Sometimes a girl just needs to see some sharks. Actually, I never would not prefer to be looking at sharks. My parents gave us a membership to the Henry Doorly Zoo and Aquarium in Omaha, NE for our 5th Anniversary last summer. Free pass to bears, sharks, and tigers, year round. Best. Gift. Ever. So on a freezing Saturday AM, when I wonder whether or not the Polar bear is happier about life now, I can go check. And because Jon loves me, we did.
Jon, for whom my personal nickname is “Tiger” because “pookie” disagreed with his eyebrows, has a history with Zoos. He once showed a cage of Kookaburras a video of other Kookaburras laughing on his phone and (very loud) chaos errupted. A white tiger once backed right up to the bars and peed on him.
This time, we were basically alone save one Siberian tiger pacing in an outdoor enclosure. As I stopped to talk to him (yes, really) a leaf fell behind me and suddenly the tiger was anyone’s kitten. Jon caught the tiger’s eye and ran to the end of the cage. The tiger bounced after him. Jon ran back, and the tiger bounded back to him, all dancy and wiggly like a puppy who could SWEAR you just said “park” when you were really telling a “fart” joke. Jon jogged away again, the tiger chased and batted at the bars stopping him from playing with Jon till his intestines unraveled like a ball of gross yarn.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t insanely jealous of Jon’s obvious bond with other hairy predators. A different, white, tiger stopped his circuit training to straight up roar at Jon. A jaguar flashed some serious teeth, doing whatever the jaguar version of meowing is, and flopping over on his back after making eye contact with Jon. The sweet three legged Malaysian tiger rubbed her gigantic velvety face all over the glass where he was standing. I’m just glad that, by virtue of marriage and yearly passes, I have permanent VIP access to these Siegfried-visiting-the-tiger-who-bit-Roy-through-prison-glass shows.
I have no idea how the polar bears mood is in winter, because HE WASN’T OUTSIDE. Slacker.
There was a baby Orangutan and it had the absolute cutest bad hair day. LOOK AT IT’S CUTE BUTT. I haven’t seen a butt that cute since Jon left the room.