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The much requested sequel to our visit to space farms.

The entrance and exit to the zoo is conveniently located through the gift shop, where shelves and shelves of stuffed animals call out to your children:
“Whine till your parents buy me”
Luckily, my kids know better. (I would say, were it even remotely true.)
We paid, bought the kids some animal feed, (because sharing saliva with ruminant animals is a fantastic souvenir) and walked into the park.
The first place the kids directed us to go was a very old, very rusty, and very dangerous set of swings. Great we paid fifty bucks to play on swings and get some tetanus shots.
My husband deftly maneuvers the children towards the water. Water is another term I use loosely. This body of liquid was a very pretty shade of lime green with a rainbow on top. Appetizing.
Amongst all this appetizing water, in which there must be thousands of fish (with multiple heads) flourishing for the ducks and geese who live there, it seems that someone put a chain link box over the saddest looking alligator I have ever seen.
I can’t imagine that this is proper alligator husbandry, but really, alligator husbandry isn’t my gig. Maybe alligators are like dogs, and their crates should only be big enough for them to stand up and turn around. Maybe they let him out at night to eat some fish with multiple heads. You never know.
That’s what I told the kids, anyway.
On the other side of the sad alligator were some scrawny lions; and were we In for a treat, because it was feeding time. The golf cart came driving up the hill, and produced a fawn that had been hacked in half. Each lion got half a fawn for dinner.
It might have been okay. They might never have made the connection from the lion food to the fawn, but Space Farms, in order to make absolutely certain that my children will be scarred permanently, house the deer (and their fawns) right next door.
“Why did that lion eat Bambi, mommy?”
Those fuckers set me up. Ooooh, look at the lions eating those very dead deer. How cool. Hey, let’s put the very alive deer next door, because that is a very very good idea.
Inyhoo, after that ruinous incident, we moved on to the snake pit, which is actually a snake pit; with snakes, in a pit. In order to see the snakes (in the pit) a child must either be lifted, or climb up onto the outside of the pit. Either way, the lump in the pythons belly was the size of a small child. I cannot comment any further.
We move on to the monkeys. Believe it or not, I had cookies that I bought at the entrance of the zoo to feed the monkeys. When we got to the enclosure, I saw that there is no way to get any closer than four feet from the cage. So in reality, children are just whizzing nilla wafers at these poor creatures day and night, trying to get one in the cage, as close to the animals as possible. (Read: bonk nilla wafer off spider monkeys head)
We walk on to the goats. Goats are always fun. They are eating machines, so children just keep on feeding them. The day we were there, there was a little girl in tears, and some parents, staring at nothing on the child’s hand. They told us, quite angrily, that a goat had bitten their child. I asked if she had put her hand in its mouth. Duh.
I hope they had that nothing looked at right away.
After j and k had fed the goats corn feed by the ton, we came upon some deer. We fed them corn. Then we came upon some more deer. We fed them corn. It was that way for what seemed like hours, and truly might have been hours. It was so fucking hot that day that after a while I started seeing concession stand mirages. There were yak, there were wolves, there were even kangaroo, but our skin was melting off, so we kind of stopped caring.
At the end, after we had climbed what seemed an insurmountable mountain, when I was considering calling a cab to take us back to our car, my concession stand mirage turned into a real concession stand. We could not have been happier. Fat Irish lady… Dancing!!! There was water… And ice cream samiches! We gobbled it all down with relish, dumping water over our heads, and eating whole ice cream samiches even before they melted into the wrapper.
On our way out, we passed some trailers marked “Museum”. It didn’t look like they were air conditioned, the tell tale “open front door” was in play. Plus, we had seen what passes for “museum” inside.
Just one more trip through the gift shop…FUCK! It seems that my husband has taken J somewhere… Possibly those rusty swings. I was trapped. Alone with my two year old girl in a gift shop full of stuffed animals. It looked bleak.
“Mama peeeeeese”
I stood strong. Finally Husband and J came to greet us. Husband took his tongue lashing with grace.
Goodbye Goliath, largest, most creepy taxidermied bear in the world.

Fin

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