Tuesday, June 22, 2010


Paul and I visited the Toronto Zoo last week. Manure, closed patios, and shrieking peacocks, oh my.

Neither one of us had visited the place in over a decade and overall, it is quite beautiful, but frankly, not really my thing.

Paul brought binoculars with us so we could see giraffes and bald eagles up close and personal. It was a hot day. Parents dragged along their screaming toddlers and school children made every effort to make the experience unbearable, climbing over each other to point at snakes and jibba jabba about things being "cool" or "gay".

Anyway, the highlight of the day was eating BeaverTails. Apple cinnamon with caramel sauce on a crispy fried piece of dough. Truly, a Canadian treat.

So Paul and I have a running joke about me feeling "instantly energized!" whenever he kisses my head. He does it when he sees that I'm dragging my feet. Well, let's just say, not even that made me want to see where the buffaloes roam. Not to mention, a lot of animals stayed indoors because it was just so friggin' hot.

But Paul was upbeat the whole time. He loves animals. Like, if love was measured in Sanrio plushies, he'd be the owner of the Hello Kitty theme park.

Once, before we met, he stopped his car in the middle of a two-lane road because a baby raccoon was injured. It was late. Paul made all the cars behind him go around his vehicle and called emergency animal protection services. The lady on the line told him help was on the way and that he should leave. Well, the little guy died in front of him, so he had no choice but to return home. Once there, the lady called back to inform him that everything was fine, that they had found the raccoon's body. Well, that prompted Paul to start crying, asking the operator, "How do you do it?" This, in turn, prompted the operator to cry, "I just take it one day at a time."

Surreal, innit?

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