S/W/F Mauled to Death by Cats

Watching Animal Planet these days is just friggin’ depressing. Apparently they’ve relegated their Friday night line-up to shows about people who are in love with exotic animals, only to have their “babies” maul them to death. Maybe I find these tales of love and betrayal so poignant because I too, consider myself to be a lover of the animal kingdom. Having volunteered at a chimpanzee sanctuary I learned first-hand how tempting it is to assign human attributes to wild animals. Being the rebel that I am, I broke the rules of the sanctuary by sticking my fingers through the mesh wiring of sweet little Kimie’s enclosure. And how could I resist? Kimie beckoned me to come sit by her, leaned her little furry chimpanzee head back, and basically said, “Hey asshole. Groom me.”

So I did. I petted her cute little cranium for about a minute. Coolest minute of my life might I add. Aside from the minute I lost my virginity, of course. But anyways, point of story, I let my guard down. Began to think that this two-hundred-pound beast of burden was a small child. And then, Kimie snapped. Went, excuse the pun, ape shit crazy over god knows what. Hooted, hollered, and made a ruckus in her pen. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how naive I was to think petting a fucking chimpanzee was in any way, shape, or form safe. The next day I went on to surmise that the owners of the sanctuary weren’t just making up stories about volunteers losing their fingers to scare me. These chimps were totally and utterly capable of ripping me to shreds. What I did was stupid, but it truly made me realize that wild animals should never be thought of as pets.

So when I see these shows on Animal Planet like “Fatal Attraction” I can’t help but think there’s something kind of fucked up with these people who consider it safe to dangle their appendages in front of 400-pound tigers. They always say, “insert name would never hurt me. She’s just playing!” Yeah well news flash: a game of dismember the human is only fun for one party. Nevertheless, these stories always manage to strike some kind of oh-shit-am-I-about-to-get-my-period round of tears for me. Why? I’m just a sucker for Shakespearian tales of people who raise exotic animals from babies, consider them their children, and then face the heart-breaking choice of either letting their “baby” kill their human child or killing the animal they love so dearly. I mean what a freaking hard thing to do, to shoot your own pet. Reminds me of the woman who raised a chimp from birth, only to have it maul her best friend and then put the thing down by stabbing it to death. Of course, this lady went on to get another pet chimp while her friend went on Oprah and revealed that she had a face without a nose, ears, or eyes.

Good to say this lady learned her lesson…

Anyways, I’m rambling. But before I go might I say that I am truly thankful my kitties are too small to maul me to death. Although, I know for a fact they won’t hesitate to eat me if I ever pass away in my apartment. One of them already munches on my bangs if I wake up one hour too late to feed him so… maybe my goal of starring on my Animal Planet show isn’t so unobtainable after all.