4 Aug

If only the bulletproof glass weren’t so cloudy and scratched.  That’s what thousands, or millions, of tiny hands and noses will do to a window over time.  Of course, sometimes there was the steam on the other side of the window when the lions got close enough to create a layer of fog with their breath. 

On one side of the window, tiny humans gaping and chattering excitedly, pushing and shoving each other for a better view.  On the other side, large, lazy cats napped and groomed themselves.  The children didn’t know how special the beings on the other side of the window were, the adults with them didn’t seem to care.  The children just continued to pound on the window or cry to their parents, screaming when the lions would roar, or just yawn, and display their massive fangs.  To the lions, all the small children in their little jackets must have looked the same, especially if it was true that animals couldn’t see in color. 

Even if the lions couldn’t tell the kids apart, at times they seemed to prefer watching the humans on the other side of the window to staring out at their bleak habitat.  Not that the African plains were full of brightly colored flowers, just the same sparse grasses and dirt the same color as the lions’ fur; aside from the other animals, not much for lions to see.  Here, they could be distracted by the people outside their window or the people walking by the outdoor portion of their enclosure.  Nothing like a stroller parade to pass the time.




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