Warty - Part Three

Life On The Shelf

©

david coyote
March 26, 2000
Warty Lahoof, Life On The Shelf (c) 2004 David Coyote

" - - that haven for species in dire need of salvation, The San Diego Zoological Society."

 

A continuing tale of One who has one, but remember not to stand too close behind! To Warthogs, such passing things are - - well, natural.
(Biographer's comments): Ah, Warty, you shy retiring spirit, will potential fans take the time to read the first two chapters of your trials and tribulations before rushing to read another word below? Perhaps the press of world problems and pressures to solve personal ones keeps potential readers away from your tale of adventure. Please don't complain, Oh Supreme and Magnificent One. Only those who have the compassion to unselfishly love will fall under your self-effacing come-hither charm. Herein, then, the tale continues . . .

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Desperation rising, a single thought my guiding light, I searched for the promised land - - that haven for species in dire need of salvation, The San Diego Zoological Society. Would I find their Wild Animal Park, the place where I might find the respect and recognition I so rightfully deserved? Would I ever fulfill my true destiny in life?
Then, the billboard! Though some poorly informed artist had chosen a lesser beast to promote it, there was the picture of 'the park' before my tired eyes, the place that promised my dream might find its fitting fulfillment. Clearly, some wisdom had blossomed in this hospitable climate, a group of well-meaning folk ready to assist in nurturing my well-deserved station on earth.
Suffice to say, that upon making my presence known at the gate, I quickly petitioned the management for sanctuary. Obviously a mistake, perhaps arising out of confusion, but rather than being properly enshrined, I was rushed off and shelved in one of their quaint visitor shops to await a sympathetic benefactor. What a desperate dilemma! You may try, but you'll never KNOW the edge of boredom that period straddled, wedged between witless Pandas and brain dead Koalas!
And whom do you think were adopted in droves? Correct. Those supposed cuddly creatures who must have had special interests behind their press releases, for un-coached, they would never know what to do in the event of a fire! Oh, the inequities perfection faces. What shoals of ignorance reach out to wreck the ship of eminence. Without exaggeration, there must have been hundreds of those silly stuffed media stars adopted while I awaited the one who would provide the salvation a soul of my stature deserved.
Wait, I did, for so long I nearly gave up all hope of ever being discovered. Thankfully, one of the staff, an attractive young lady I might add, saw to it that I didn't go hungry, providing daily sustenance that kept me just alive, if not well fed.
Indignities seldom waned as I awaited my future, sticky-fingered children prodding and poking, irritating voices and derisive laughter too often aimed in my direction. Those same children would go goo-goo over the sight of dull-witted black and white Pandas, begging exhausted parents to buy one for them, then crying like banshees when addled guardians refused. Once again I was reminded of the adage that humans are the most savage and dangerous animals on earth. Unfortunately, I believe such traits surface early in life, fostered over other more intelligent alternative forms of behavior. Sigh.
It was challenge to keep a stiff upper lip, but I, having gone this far, wasn't about to surrender to tears or tantrums. There had to be someone who would recognize my noble nature, someone who would step forward and rescue me from this unexpected and undeserved incarceration. Just when? I kept my noble head raised, expression, patrician.
Note: Needing time out for a snack and a nap, I plead with each reader to follow my further recollections, hopefully posted in short order. Your praiseful comments (all naturally deserved) are of course, much appreciated. However, don't fail to point out to the stiff-fingered, sometimes befuddled author any errors in the text of my memoirs. I don't need to be represented by some novice scribbler who can't get my words down correctly. The things one such as I have to endure.

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