EPT
“What do you think?”
That’s a difficult question. No wait, it isn't.
“I don’t understand – it doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.”
I’m standing in a foreign country at a zoo. Have you noticed how zoos are always on the recommended lists of places to visit? This is the first time I’ve listened to such a suggestion and I’m inclined to never follow it again. It’s not that I think zoos are cruel or boring or anything, but at this one I’ve come face to face with a problem that my brain just can’t wrap itself around.
My host is smirking. We met two days before and have been getting on ever since we twigged how each other’s sense of humour works and since then we’ve had a blast. “What don’t you understand?” she asks.
“Why is it here?”
Sometimes asking why something is somewhere is a tough question: ‘Why are my keys in my shoe?’ for example. Other times it’s a massive question: ‘Why are we here?’ This “why” is the biggest question of them all. Why is there a terrier in a zoo exhibit and why are people looking at it?
It must be sheer confusion that draws them here, proof of the unusual thing existing so that they can snap a photo of and send home to friends – something we’re all guilty of, I once took a photo of a parking meter in Germany which, in my defence, was offering €4 for 24 hours parking. This one is almost too strange to believe. mostly because people are walking their dogs around the exhibit. There are dogs, looking at another dog in a zoo. Normally if the animal is outside of the exhibit, it’s a big deal, here; the animal being inside is the draw. This might just be the most genius marketing move for a zoo since Pandas. “That’s right; we have a dog on show! No really!”
“I don’t believe them. Let’s go find out.”
It’s ok, I’ve figured it out. It’s the pet of a zookeeper and they’ve put it in this nice dog area while the zookeeper works. Wait, there’s a plaque describing the dog and… well that picture looks awful familiar. There’s another of the dog being taken for walks and my host assures me that the rest of the text describes how they look after it. There’s nothing about why it’s here. I don’t believe her.
My brain is working in overdrive now, maybe the dog is a rare breed, maybe it’s really a cat that looks like a dog or it’s a wild type of dog, one that wears a collar and plays with chew toys. OK scratch that. It’s been into space. It’s a space dog. When was the last time they sent a dog into space? Hmmm. It’s a robot dog, wait no no, it can talk! Or sing maybe? Oooo! It’s one of those dancing dogs!
I stare at the dog, demanding to know its secrets.
After a moment, I drop to my knees and acknowledge my defeat. Some things in this world are not for me to understand and this is clearly one of them. I bow to my victorious opponent, head hung in shame. It looks back at me, posing like a proud-stag, tongue lolling out the side of its mouth, tail wagging. A staff-member comes in with a lead and the takes the excited dog outside to greet the guests. You’d like that wouldn’t you dog. You’d like if I just scratched you and obeyed your every whim, you tyrannical bastard. I know your game dog and I’m not falling for it.
It’s not the dog’s fault though. I look up at the sniggering Russian girl who brought me here. I know she won’t tell me. She hugs me like a mother hugs a crying child, drops me a “there, there” and smiles again. She’s never going to explain this to me. “Are you ok? Are you struggling?”
I nod.
“What do you want to do now?”
I thought for a moment.
“Let’s go eat some salted bread or do some other weird local thing.”
This country will be the death of me.
