[rain pouring] [thunder rumbling] [car horn blaring] “go on. wheyyyyyyy!! Oh no.” [in distance: “YOU IDIOT”, uproarious laughter] “why would you go through that. what are you doing. ahhh no, he’s actually floating!” “well of course he is. what a fucking bellend!” “what a knobhead!” “fucking hell.”
Picked up a used coffee cup to throw in the trash. Heard something slide in it and nearly shat myself. I’m so sorry little miss, but I have to throw away your little house.
A very cute little yearling Prairie Rattlesnake (Crotalusviridis). Probably last summer’s litter. This is a great example of being cautious in places where rattlesnakes occur when picking up trash or moving debris around, because those are often hiding places!
We got a report from a guest that one of the orangutans has quarters in its mouth and is wearing sunglasses.
A call from operations to the primate keepers. (via overheardatthezoo)
So becuase I’m living in an appartment building and have no yard into which I may release Charlie when his little doggy bladder fills up, I end up walking him at strange hours of the night in all manner of weather, becuase I love him.
So tonight it’s single-digits and snowing, and while we’re walking back, I see a big gray tabby curled up with it’s back to us on the porch of one of the houses that’s not yet occupied. It doesn’t look up at us when we pass by, or when charlie doubles back and starts climbing the stairs to sniff it.
Understandably worried that someone’s pet is lose or that one of the ferals is goign to be a kitty popsicle, I hurry home, collect the cat carrier and go back to the porch to bring kitty in from the cold. Since I will probably need both hands to carry it back and there’s enough ambient light, I don’t take a flashlight.
Kitty must be very asleep becuase it doesn’t look up when I put the crate down, or when I walk up to it, but the *second* I touch just one of its little kitty fluffs, It’s head pops up with the loudest, deepest “brrp?” cat start-up noise ever.
…and I realize by the large tufted ears and buff shoulder muscles that the thing I am attempting to pick up is not an unusually large tabby.
It’s the fucking Bobcat.
Fortunately, instead of maiming me, like my idiot ass deserves, it lets out a demonic YEEEAAUGH and flings itself off the porch, fleeing into the night, and I sit there waiting for my heart to start beating again, presumably to tell it’s bobcat buddies all about it’s attempted alien abduction.
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