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Dear Zoo Puma

Dear Zoo Puma,

My friends have been giving me a really hard time lately about how upset I am over the passing of Steve Jobs. I’ve dealt with bullying in the past, and I’m starting to get the same feelings of helplessness all over again. This is all made worse by the great sorrow I’m feeling over the loss of such a great man. Any advice?

Hyannis, MA


I can relate. In fact, I think being in a zoo is a lot like being an Apple customer, as zoos aren’t exactly “open source” if you know what I mean. I’m locked into this place on a “rest of my fucking life contract”, if you follow me. I’ll bet if Google opened a zoo, I’d get a little bit more room to move around, but they’d probably be a little less careful with my privacy data. And I’d still be in a zoo. You just can’t win, can you Chad?

I guess I’d feel a little strange if my handlers died, though I’d probably end up partially devouring their corpses to deal with my grief. Also, by “grief” I mean “joy”, because I hate every human. Of course, I deal with my handlers every day, and even though they don’t really give a shit about me on a personal level, we do at least know each other. If the owner of this zoo died, or if the inventor of the electrified pole I get jabbed with died, I’d try to choke on my own tongue if I found myself getting upset about that.

I do have to admit, though, I did have a bit of a soft spot for the monumental douche bag that was Steve Jobs. He was actually kind of puma-like, in a pussy human sort of way. By all accounts he was a total dick head, he like to wear black (like the most badass of us pumas do), and I suppose that denying your child exists is as close as you humans can get to eating the ones you feel threatened by, so there you go.

As for your question, it sounds to me that you deserve a little bullying, Chad. I can’t imagine that any partially furred, marginally predatory mammal would enjoy the sight of one of their own sobbing like a pussy because someone they never met got their ass kicked by an illness, so it sounds like you should get used to being made fun of, loser.

I’m proud of you for writing this letter, Chad, because from the sound of it, you can’t do anything right.

The Zoo Puma

Dear Zoo Puma,

The Occupy Wall Street protests that have sprung up in New York and around the country have really been getting a lot of media coverage, but despite all the exposure, I have no idea what these people are protesting, or what they want. Do you have any idea what this is all about?

Charlotte, NC

Hi Janice,

Glad to hear democracy is still in action out there in the world beyond my cage. I’m a staunch believer in freedom, so I hold plenty of little protests of my own. Sometimes I won’t eat, sometimes I menace my handlers, and sometimes I just refuse to come out of my little fake rock shelter. Those protests all pretty much end up the same way, with me being abused, and usually I face some sort of penalty afterwards, like less food or no toys, etc.

Seeing as you humans are so brilliant at everything, I can assume that these Wall Street protesters have clear demands, and are not taking any shit from their handlers. It’s not like you humans allow yourself to be treated like animals, and herded in whatever direction your handlers choose for you. No, you are the mighty apex predators of Earth. I’m confident that after years of studying myself and other predators in the wild and in captivity, you humans have learned that those with the upper hand generally really respond to the word “please.” That’s how you climbed the food chain, after all: your manners, and a sharp eye for obeying and respecting the law.

It’s like when I was about to eat a human back in the days before I was captured: I actually got a little kick out of the ones that begged for their lives. “Oh, you don’t want to die?” I would find myself thinking. “Why didn’t you say so before you walked in the forest I live in with no protection from pumas whatsoever? I’m sorry I’ve bitten you. Please, walk away. I’ll just go find something else to eat. I know I’m a puma, and I eat things like you, but since you asked so nice, I’ll do whatever you want.”

In fact, I’m surprised that pumas went along eating people for as long as we did. My ancestors told of stories where whole villages of people would hold huge demonstrations, banging on drums and wailing for nights on end, just to ask us cruel and mighty pumas to spare them. I mean, those humans even made signs and got all dressed up. How could that not have worked? The same reason that made me eat those beggars without a second thought, Janice: I’m a fucking puma, and you humans are generally weak little pussies.

Do you know which humans I didn’t eat? The ones with spears or guns. I saw them coming, and I thought “no way. I’d better use my amazingly effective natural camouflage for the not-so-badass reason of hiding before I get shot.” It made me kind of long for the olden days, long before me, when my sharp puma teeth were no match for anything you humans could toss at me. Then you invented the spear, and we changed our diets, or went extinct. I think you humans refer to the study of this topic as “Liberal Arts”, so as long as you put your faith in those Wall Street protesters; you should be in good shape.

Who knows, maybe those protesters are upset about the weather. I hear that those old villagers used to get pretty pissed off about that, too.

The Zoo Puma


Anonymous said...

"The only upside to all of this is that it is literally a matter of time before we get video of some idiot narrating his own death as he’s eaten alive"

Timothy Treadwell.

I know you, as a zoo puma, have limited access to the internet. Please be assured that humans can, using their remarkable (and tasty) fingers can in short order hear the audio of a man in just such a situation.

Your agent should have lunch with Werner Herzog. I'm sure he could set you up proper.

Zoo Puma said...


This is pretty 'high concept' of you: displaying your internet mastery by posting your comment on the wrong post.

I'll continue to mash away at my keyboard with my paws, and you just keep employing your impeccable sense of irony.

Stay hip.


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