So… that zoo trip over the weekend that I casually alluded to a couple of days ago when talking about getting up close and personal with a duck. Here are the highlights, because I can’t get over how much I’ve gotten invested in keeping track of the animals we see. And it was beautiful to see the autumn making its appearance amongst the landscaping of the zoo. I finally got to see some tinges of red on trees instead of just seeing leaves go from green to yellow to brown.
The green python. He’s green again! Well, green-er. Not looking quite so sickly yellow. Ok, he actually looks yellower in the photo than he did in real life, but I assure you, he really is looking greener again. However, he still hasn’t moved. Is he glued to that spot on the branch?
Stan the T-Rex is the same as ever. Hanging out, looking fierce and boney. We said hello. And in case you’re wondering, while the linguists will chime in with “Tyrannosauri reges” as a plural, the paleontologists will say “there is no plural. It’s a scientific name and doesn’t change whether you’re talking about one Tyrannosaurus Rex or many Tyrannosaurus Rex.” So there you go. I asked on Facebook. And the Internet. It must be true, so.
The crocodile actually moves! I mean, we knew that they move because the two of them aren’t always in the same spot each time, but this weekend I actually got to see one of the swim up to his usual resting place.
We didn’t have too much time so aside from the Zoorasic Park and the elephants, we spent some time at the farm and happened to be there for the daily milking presentation. Or, the attempted daily milking presentation. You see, this is Aine. She is a dairy cow. Her friend had a calf who was feeding from the mother, but recently discovered that she can get milk not just from one cow, but TWO! So the calf would have a breakfast, and then a second breakfast, and leaving poor Aine with insufficient milk to perform for the daily milking presentation. We got to see the zoo keeper show how they used to do it in the old days by hand, but there was no point in hooking up the milking machine. So Aine got trotted out, fed, petted, and then we said good bye because we were told that there was something even more exciting next door – piglets!
Yes, these are teeny tiny piglets. Five days old, to be precise. As soon as she heard us at the fence, the mama inside the barn swung her head and blocked our view of the little piglets that were stuck to her. It was pretty amazing to see the ol’ mothering instinct kick in so visibly. However, having finished suckling, the piglets were clearly feeling adventurous, because only a minute later one peeked around his mother’s head, another climbed over the mama pig’s head. Yet another two squeezed past on the other side, and they all spilled out into the yard one by one, exploring the concrete, the walls, the hay, the dug up ground, everything. And back in the barn, you could almost feel the palpable relief from the mother pig, going “Finally, I can get a few minutes of rest in peace! Hope the little buggers stay out there as long as possible.” She closed her eyes and fell asleep, only occasionally opening an eye whenever one of the human observers got a bit loud. Peace, mama pig. I feel your pain. The burdens of motherhood are universal. Hope you got some good sleep after we left.