Tag Archives: animals

Feb 16 2012
2 Comments
Fiction, Three minute read

Meet a Mammal: the Swedish Gray Wolf

Adolphus Jonasson, a Swedish Gray Wolf

Hello and welcome to today’s episode of “Meet a Mammal” with your host, me! Before we meet our guest, allow me to introduce myself:

I was born centuries ago in a leaky canoe where I was instantly orphaned and then raised by a flock of giant birds called tittleswinks. Unfortunately, tittleswinks are now extinct because I ended them. The birds were very cruel and tortured me daily by making me eat their regurgitations. This went on for years until I couldn’t take it anymore and used my powers of abstract thinking to destroy them.

I don’t know my own name, so I call myself Truckles, and I love mammals because they are not birds. Enough about me, though! Let’s meet our guest.

“Today we have Adolphus Jonasson with us, a gray wolf all the way from Sweden. Adolphus, thanks so much for being here.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Truckles. It’s great to see you again.”

“Likewise! So Adolphus, you’re a gray wolf living in the Kolmården Wildlife Park in southern Sweden. Can you tell us a little about your day to day life?”

“Well, it’s not as interesting as you might think. Mostly I do what other Swedish gray wolves do, keep up with international affairs, scratch myself, balance the budget, meat think, nap in the sunshine, hide from zoo visitors, flirt with the zoo keepers, etc. It’s a pretty simple life.”

“But I bet you have tons of time for self-improvement since you don’t have to hunt and kill your own food.”

“I suppose that’s a good way of looking at it. But I’ll be honest here. Sometimes when I see a heavy zoo patron or a sickly child, I feel the wildness within me and I imagine jumping over the exhibit wall and seeing their eyes bulge with terror before ripping into their tender necks and tasting their blood warm in my mouth. I hope I’m not disclosing too much information! Hahahaha!

“Not at all! I’ve thought that exact same thing before. Hahahaha! Now tell me this, Kolmården Wildlife Park is the largest wildlife park in Scandinavia and also home of Sweden’s only dolphinarium. As you probably know, humans unreasonably favor dolphins over other mammals. Do you ever feel jealous of the attention the dolphins get?

“That’s a great question, Trunkles. If I can be honest here, sometimes I do get a little pissed off that this aquatic animal is so arbitrarily beloved. What does it have that the gray wolf doesn’t? Aren’t we cool? Have you ever seen a pack of wolves devour a cow before? It’s freaking awe-inspiring, and I just don’t get why we aren’t more popular. In fact, sometimes I get so angry, I imagine leaping right into the dolphin tank with my buddies and savoring the the flippered freaks’ squeals as we tear into their rough necks and turn the exhibit into a literal blood bath. Oops! Did I say too much again? Hahahaha!

“Not at all, Adolphus! I hate those squeaky suckers too! Well we’re running out of time here, but very quickly I’d like to ask you one last question. The name Adolphus means “noble wolf,” and yet I read that people often make fun of you because of its similarity to Adolf Hitler’s name. How does that feel?”

“It doesn’t feel great, Trunkles, not great at all. Did you know I speak four languages? I’ve composed several symphonies and eaten countless kilos of raw meat but those feather haired, leather skinned, smarmy mouthed tourists can’t get over the fact there are other mammals out there named Adolphus. Sometimes it makes me want to listen to the blood gurgle in their throats as their life slowly slips away from them….oops I did it again! Hahahaha! Sorry about that—blood on the brain you know!

“I sure do! Well thanks for being on our show, Adolphus. Do come back and visit us again!”

And for all my guests at home, don’t forget to join us next time when we have a genuine Cairo ferret with us. Thanks for watching!”

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Sep 13 2011
1 Comment
Anecdotes, Two minute read

Bats: Just Hanging Around (It’s a Pun)

You can see his eye glowing. There’s a body too, I promise. 

I realize I’ve already written about the bats, but last time I could have been lying. I could have been spewing whatever crazy froth had floated to the top of my brain, just as I do when editing other peoples’ resumes, putting up job descriptions on Craig’s list, or applying for a place in the emergency room. But now I have proof of all my romantic waxings about bats, and my life, your life, and especially the bat’s life has changed.

It’s nothing unusual to see bats loitering around while I’m clacking away at the ol’ silver clickers (keyboard) on my increasingly dusty balcony in Mohansideen where it never gets completely dark. I’ve even named one of the bats Nigel, but it’s difficult to tell which one he is since they all look like soot colored flappy things against the grey nighttime sky.

I had already finished yelling at the moon (credit: 30 rock) and drowning in my endless sea of Arabic homework. And so there I was, getting my greedy fill of internet magic and thinking about the banality of life when the world changed. I see Nigel fly up near the tree next to my balcony, since bats can fly. This was nothing special. I was utterly unimpressed, disgusted even.

And then he latches onto a branch and HANGS UPSIDE DOWN ON THE BRANCH! UPSIDE DOWN! CRAZY! He hung for a good 3 minutes and I felt the whole world disappear as I stared at his freakish being suspended there in the vegetation. It was, to be quite frank, the most ethereal bat experience I’ve ever had. Here is a play by play of my thoughts throughout the encounter. Also, National Geographic is probably going to be contacting me pretty soon because of my breathtaking pictures, in which case I’ll have to buy sunglasses and leave this lame blog behind.

12:45 am: No new facebook notifications. My life is worthless. Why did I even have wireless internet installed? Why did I go through that hassle only to reach the unavoidable conclusion that my online life is as mundane as my carbon-based one?

12:46 am: There’s Nigel…he’s looking fit tonight. Why is my eye twitching?

12:47 am:  What a second..what the..OH MY GOD! HE’S HANGING UPSIDE DOWN ON THE TREE! I’M SITTING HERE LOOKING AT HIM AND HE’S HANGING UPSIDE DOWN JUST LIKE THAT BAT DID FROM ANASTASIA! THEY ACTUALLY DO HANG UPSIDE DOWN!

12:48 am: HE’S STILL THERE! MUST GET CAMERA!

12:49 am: (enthusiasm wearing off) Oh good! He’s still there! If I could only see his dark leaf-shaped body against the background of the actual dark leaves….this picture is not going to be great. (checks camera) Nope, not great. What did I expect anyways?  This must be what average people feel like. (too much?)

12:58 am: Why was I impressed by seeing a bat hang upside down in the first place? I need to get more sleep.

1:00 am: You know what, it was really cool to see Nigel hang upside down. It was freakin’ AWESOME! But seriously, why is my eye twitching?

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Sep 11 2011
4 Comments
Best blog posts, Fiction, Humorous, Open Letters, Three minute read

I’m Cute and Furry!

I live on Cairo’s streets! Love me!

Hello there! It’s me, your friendly neighborhood Cairo street ferret! You just caught me bounding along effortlessly.

Wasn’t that adorable?  Don’t you just want to die because of how cute I am! Did you see the way my body forms perfect mini-arches with the street as I’m springing along? Weren’t you reminded of the scalloped dye cuts that your mom used when she went through that scrapbooking phase? Some people have described my cutesy antics as magical, ineffable, and transcendental. For me, it’s just my normal life. Do you know what it’s like when people are inspired by even your most ordinary actions? Is anyone moved to tears or laughter at the preparation of your morning coffee? No? Well, this might be something we ferrets alone can understand.

When I saw you leave Cairo Jazz Club, I thought I’d make an appearance so you could know there is something beautiful left in the world. I was just over there by that pile of trash doing dainty ferret things when I sensed a smoky soul in need of a lift and then hop! bounce! There I was! And then I was gone! You don’t have to tell me how much you enjoyed seeing my amiable face and bizarrely flexible body. I’ve heard every praise known to man and ferret, so anything you say will be meaningless anyways. I’m glad to do this merely as a service for those a little bit more burden-laden than the rest of us in this city.

I know you Arabic students have a hard life, trying to make it off of a stipend that only supports a humiliatingly upper-middle class lifestyle, the exorbitantly expensive restaurants, country clubs, and apartments embarrassingly out of reach. You have to deal with nightly homework in a subject you specifically came to Egypt to study. If that isn’t enough, you have class a ridiculous four days a week, and only fourteen weeks of vacation out of the year long fellowship. So I get it.

You and I are not so different. I live off of street trash and car fumes. In fact, after the Ferret Council of 1974, street ferrets decided to evolve and can now digest most forms of Styrofoam and need car exhaust in order to survive. It gives us increased flexibility and fur sootiness. I, like you, also smoke people’s cigarette butts whenever I can find them. If I’m really lucky, I inhale the second hand smoke directly from someone’s mouth. That’s only happened once before and I don’t think the man himself understood why he was laying on the ground smoking a cigarette with a street ferret tickling his whiskers, but it was a pleasant, and maybe once in a lifetime, experience for both of us. I also live my life prancing around the streets of Cairo, my slinky-like body structure allowing me to be run over or stepped on without any damage whatsoever to my person, even though my pride is always hurt. The ferret rage comes afterwards, and sometimes I crawl into the hoods of parked cars and tinker with their engines just to show them. It’s eerie how much satisfaction I get from watching things burn. But that’s what this city does to you.

So…I’m getting bored with this conversation. You Arabic student types aren’t exactly skilled conversationalists, are you? Anyways, I’m glad I could brighten your night a little bit and I hope life gets easier for you. Really, I do. I hope someone finds you and decides to pay you for just being who you are and nothing else, since that’s what everyone deserves. If I’ve learned anything from Cairo’s streets, it’s that everyone is special.

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Sep 10 2011
2 Comments
Fiction, One minute read

Found: One Bag of Slop, One Hoof


Cairo’s Lost and Found Forum

Items found: bag of slop, hoof

Location: Revolution Street, Mohandiseen, Cairo

Descriptions: 

Bag of slop: A bag of slop has been found in Mohandiseen on a pile of dirt near a street sign. The bag appears to be rapidly disintegrating though the innards are still quite moist and slop-like. As it is in an almost perfect disk shape, the bag is easily distinguished from the other bags of trash nearby carrying solid contents. The mush itself could be either chunky tomato sauce or chunky animal blood and organs, judging by the ooze surrounding the bag. There are two lacerations in the side of the receptacle as well as an empty bag of potato chips resting on top of it.  The exact kind of knot used to seal the bag is unclear, though this could easily be determined upon inquiry and subsequent investigation. Since the slop bag is in easy sight of any passersby, it may be snatched up very soon. The preservation of the slimy innards is also at risk, since the Cairo sun has a tendency to return everything to a dust like state as soon as possible. Anyone looking for their lost bag of goo would be advised to contact me as soon as possible.

Animal hoof/leg: A black animal hoof attached to about a foot of brown, fur covered leg was also found in Mohandiseen near the bag of slop. Its scent can best be described as putrid, and the overall visual effect as nightmarish.  The appendage is likely from a mule or a donkey, though a horse or goat are not completely out of the question. Said animal part was left in a pile of (animal) feces at the base of a lamppost in broad daylight. It is not likely that the appendage itself was originally a part of the excrement. The hoof is also near a leaf and a plastic bag. Rotting did not seem to have progressed very far, though its status likely got exponentially worse as the day wore on. This hoof appears to be a possible source of many diseases and is likely a public health hazard. If you have lost it and would like to reclaim it before it also turns into a pile of goo, please fax me your inquiry as soon as possible.

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Jul 17 2011
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Anecdotes

A rabbit goes home

When I was in first grade, I wrote a short story about a bunny named Snow that had fur that was white as snow. The story was a paragraph long and recounts the emotional journey of a young girl who loses and then finds her bunny: she was sad and the she was happy. Today, the story has a slightly different ending: Snow’s fur is stolen and he is cooked in a stew, devoured by the people who once loved him.

After our “Cultural Exchange” today, I went rabbit hunting with a fellow who hosts meat nights, when we eat different kinds of meats like camel or in this circumstance, rabbit. The hunting process turned out to be fairly simple, taking place in the old Bab al-Louq market downtown. Unlike forests where one must watch out for witches and outlaws, the main danger at this market is inhaling the noxious fumes emanating from various stalls and patches of earth, smells frightening in their strength and physical proximity to food. The market’s ceilings are bizarrely high since it used to have two stories, and a deep feeling of faded grandeur pervades the place. It feels a place half-forgotten with characters that defy being swept away by time, sticking around year after year in the dimness as the place becomes more dilapidated and the smells multiply on top of one another like flies on the vegetables. The venue is available for weddings and bar-mitzvahs, if you’re interested.

We entered the cavernous market with the goal of getting us a rabbit, and find one we did at a certain butcher stall. To the left of the front counter was a tall narrow cage with different levels, the top one holding all of our furry rabbit friends. After we asked for a kilo of rabbit meat (we as in the fellow I was with), an eight year old climbed up the side of the cage, reached in, and grabbed a fluffy white bunny. It was at this point that I remembered the short story I had written so many years ago, and stopped to ponder how it was my life had led me to this point. “Capitalism,” I concluded. But then things got interesting, kind of. The boy took the bunny to the back of the stall, a long knife in his hand. To make an obvious story shorter, moments later the white fur was streaked with blood, and a few minutes after that we left the market carrying a little over a kilo of chopped up rabbit meat neatly packaged in a Styrofoam container.

Later that evening we ate a rabbit stew that was actually quite tasty, though I have to admit one of the reasons I liked it was because it reminded me of the meal Sam cooked for Frodo when they were on their way to Mordor, except for they had two rabbits that Gollum had caught for them, and we just had the one that an 8 year old had killed and skinned for us.

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