Kevin goes to the zoo

Kevin goes to to zoo.



Kevin meets a lion. Grrrr!


Kevin sees a flamingo. The flamingo is pink.



Kevin gets an ice cream cone.




Kevin sees a squirrel go into a garbage can.



Kevin takes a closer look into the garbage can...

After a day of watching caged animals lazily pace their cramped living quarters, this wild squirrel intrigues the boy. The squirrel has no caretakers, no daily feeding schedule, no toys for when it is bored. It only has its survival instincts. Kevin is overwhelmed with curiosity, and pokes his head into the garbage can. The smell of stale hamburger wrappers pervades his nostrils as his eyes struggle to adjust to the dark innards of the refuse bin. The ambient noise --birds chirping, crowds chatting and zoo workers humming by on their quadbikes--is muffled under the lid of the garbage. Inside, all he can hear is his own steady, soft breathing.

Suddenly, some garbage ruffles as a flash of gray fur ascends the wall closest the boy. Kevin pulls his head out quickly, just as the rodent perches on the edge of the bin, inches in front of Kevin's nose. A brief second elapses as the two watch each other's eyes. Then the squirrel strikes. Razor sharp claws tear into the boys cheek, stealing away some of his skin, and his naivety. A shriek escapes the mouth of the squirrel as it leaps to the ground and scurries away into the bushes, away from his wounded victim. Or perhaps, threat?

When the two exchanged glances, Kevin did not see malice in the rodent's eyes. Instead, he saw fear. The squirrel feared for its life when the larger animal, the boy, cornered it. Kevin learned more about animals that day from this one experience than any number of cages could teach him. He also learned another lesson.



Kevin learns not to be a dumbass.