I was sunning myself near a big pile of
rocks when a sandy-haired man-child, dressed in khaki shorts, grabbed
me. I tried to bite him but he held me firmly in his grip. He angled
my head towards the camera as if he was filming me for a kidnap
ransom video!
All the time this was happening he kept
saying: “You're alright mate. You're alright mate.”
In fact I was far alright. My wife,
Angela, had been eaten by a Booted Eagle the previous day and I was
still getting over the shock.
After the man put me down I ran away
and hid under a boulder, where I have remained ever since.
I will come out when I have evolved
venom glands.
Jennifer (Great Blue
Heron)
After I left university in 1972, I
lived at London Zoo for a while. The late children's television
presenter, Johnny Morris, would often drop by, dressed as a zoo
keeper from the 1920s. He would stand outside the enclosures of his
favourite animals and enact pretend conversations between him and us,
with him doing both of the voices since none of us couldn't speak
English. In most cases his impressions played heavily upon
stereotypes and were extremely insulting.
Because I am a heron, and therefore
predisposed towards perching beside bodies of water for long periods
of time, Morris developed a routine in which he would imply that I
had accidentally dropped my house keys into my pond and was searching for them
like an idiot.
He deliberately portrayed me as a
Canadian hick. In fact I was born in UK. As I previously mentioned, I am also
highly educated and have a degree in Economics from the LSE. I was in
the same year as Barbara Morris and took some of the same classes
that she did. You probably haven't heard of her but she is very
clever.
Bridget Mason (Bengal
Tiger)
As one of the few remaining wild
tigers, I am constantly being trailed by the wildlife paparazzi. They
want to know everything about me: How many wild pigs I've eaten; the
relationship between me and a male Bengel Tiger called Colin who
occupies an adjacent territory, and so on. They even go through my
stools!
I don't mind when the focus is on me.
When they start following my cubs around it's a different story: The
other day, one of my three sons was nearly eaten by a crocodile! It
was only through the timely intervention of my line-manger at the
call centre (a Kingfisher called Claire) that a disaster was averted.
You read about these things happening to other tiger families but you
never imagine that they'll happen to you.
The camera crew who filmed the incident
later informed me in a letter that they didn't want to intervene, as
they were there in an observational capacity and couldn't be seen as
interfering with nature.
I take this as meaning that they wont
get involved when I indulge my natural instinct to tear open their
director's soft belly and feast upon his warm entrails.
On an unrelated matter, I recently
discovered that I have been 'adopted' by hundreds of different people
around the globe under a 'save the tiger' program. I would like state
for the record:
- I have no direct involvement in this project.
- My name is not Mindy.
- That photo isn't me. If you look at the date you can see that it was taken in 1991, several years before I was reincarnated as a tiger.
- I didn't write any of those letters. That is not my paw-print at the bottom. If I were to write you a letter I would sign it using my proper signature.
- I am not on Twitter or any other social media platform.
Ben (Wright Whale)
The newest addition to our pod is a
robotic submersible device that is supposed to resemble a whale. Some
of us had taken to calling it the 'Gayle' until we were told off by
Karl for being intolerant.
It greets us with pre-recordings of
whale song, which I suppose its designers imagine are opening pleasantries. In fact they are recordings of Graham complaining about
the krill-to-saltwater ratio in the North Atlantic, and asking where
he can score some methamphetamine. It's actually quite poignant as
Graham died last month from a heroin overdose.
Last week me and Nigel wrote 'Fuck
Poseidon!' on the sub. I also wrote 'Clean me' in the algae on its
underside.
Whenever it's around, my friends and I
make a point of singing offensive whale punk songs, which are
full of swearing and anti-establishment sentiment! When the
researchers at National Geographic play these recordings back and
get their heads around what we're saying, it's going to totally blow
their minds wide open!
Julian (Meerkat)
“That camera/rock that the BBC put
outside our burrow: I pissed on it. It's my rock now and I'll bite
any fucker who tries to take it away.”
Simon (Lowland Gorilla)
That bastard David Attenborough
sat down no less then ten feet away from where I am now and
started talking about me like he knows me. You don't know me
Attenborough. Fuck
You.
Harriet Bowden-Steward
(Lioness)
I was lying in the shade of a baobab
tree, swishing my tail at some flies, when my my partner mounted me
and engaged in 20 seconds of uninspired humping before wandering off
to growl at a hyena. While this was happening, no less than three
camera crews were filming from the back of those stupid open-top
safari jeeps.
I don't come into your over-priced,
2-bedroom terrace in Clapham and gawp, while you and your partner
attempt to rekindle the cold ashes of your decade old relationship.
Show me the same respect bitches!
I am woman and also a lion. Hear me
roar!
Keith Tyler (Barnacle
Goose)
I would like to thank the presenters of
Springwatch for broadcasting to the nation the fact that my
wife Claire and I have recently flown north on our annual migration.
I expect we will return next year to find our nest has been burgled.
Is this what I pay my TV licence fee for?
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