didofoot and her lad’s recent trip to the berlin zoo put me in a fervor of reminiscence. the thought of touching a baby black panther caused me to remember that time i petted a cheetah. i don’t know why i was petting a cheetah. or what foolish zoo officials were allowing my 10 year old self to pet a cheetah. but the fact remains, that i did pet it, and somewhere there was photographic evidence. i turned the house upside down and inside out looking for this photo. i made my mom help me. we found nothing. until yesterday. yesterday when i was moving stuff from the guest bedroom back into my own bedroom, i discovered a photo album hiding underneath one of my boxes. a photo album with the most sublime image in it ever to be seen by cat-loving freaks such as myself.
as you’re all, no doubt, aware, my cat-loving nature was ingrained at birth. i love all fuzzy things, but cats, perhaps, the most. our relationship has suffered bad fashion, mauling, more bad fasion (will i never learn?), potty humor, interior design, sleeping in unlikely locales (more than once), tight quarters, inappropriate touching of underage cats, stitches, meals, homemade homages and machine mass produced homages and through it all we’ve remained the best of friends. as didofoot would put it, “nature’s best friends”. so, here i present to you, me and my friend, the cheetah.
What are they, insane?
If you could remember where that zoo was, you’d be back in a second, wouldn’t you?
i so would! i think, actually, it was a wildlife safari in oregon. i bet my mom knows.
michele: “me and cheetah, nature’s bestARRRGHARGRGHH MY HAND MY HANDARRGHGHHGHH”