How Not to Start 2021: Sagas of Animal Butt Juice, Part II

Everyone wanted 2021 to be the game changer. It had to be better than 2020, right? For me, 2020 ended with Koda dropping some butt juice on my wife’s new book. Surely, 2021 would cross that low bar. Or not…

Every year we purchase a membership somewhere. Last year it was the museum, but this year my son wanted a zoo membership. I’m shocked that we haven’t taken him that often in since he was in first grade. I think this is one of those things that fell off the radar for our second child. Since the zoo is mainly outdoors, I thought, this is a pretty good idea. What could go wrong?

And it started on the right foot. We visited the sea lion, and my son was mesmerized. We saw lemurs and orangutans and poison dart tree frogs (some of my favorites – they look like little jewels on a leaf). The jaguar was pretty impressive, too. It was fun. We were talking, sometimes joking, and often just staring at exotic animals.

But what would a zoo be without a lion exhibit? This was the one exhibit my son had really been looking forward to. He wanted to see the lions. The Houston Zoo has a giant chunk of real estate dedicated to the big cats, which is good for them. It’s a major part of the zoo. People can line up along the walls and watch the lions run around. Before the pandemic, they used to do lion presentations, which always drew a large crowd.

The day we visited the zoo, though, the lions were sleeping and chilling. For the pride, it was a lazy day, a lounge on the couch and chill in my Snuggie while MTV teaches me how to Dougie kind of day. (Apologies to Bruno Mars.)

My son didn’t mind, though. He stood still and watched the lions do nothing. Being a Dad, I was already looking for the tunnel below the lion cage, where sometimes you can see more action (or at least get a close-eye view of the sleeping lions). The tunnel was open, so I suggested we go down there. “Sure” he said in that teenagerish way that implies he could or could not; he doesn’t really care.

Down below, the walls are lined with narrow windows at the top of the tunnel. There is a perch below so children can stand up and see the lions, too, but as adult-sized humans we could look out. Out of the corner of my eye I caught the lionesses running.

“Hey! Check this out!” It looked like it would interesting, if not a little exciting to see running lions.

We got closer.

The lionesses all stopped running. I remember one dropped to her belly. They were all staring up at something intently.

From the side of the enclosure walks this giant male lion with this beautiful mane. He looks so proud and impressive. I’m sure one day a baboon will be holding his babies over Pride Rock. I’m waiting for a James Earl Jones voice to bellow out of the lion’s mouth, or at least a robust roar.

No, the lion walks over toward us. It was so exciting! I cannot tell you how huge a male lion is. And with our worm’s-eye view of the lion, he looked even bigger.

Look at the size of that Mufasa!

With the lionesses watching, he gently rubbed an overhanging tree branch. It was poetic. Even better, I was catching it on film. It was that “dad’s intuition” that something interesting was about to happen. I don’t think dad’s intuition is given enough credit. Probably because it isn’t as useful or necessary as a mother’s intuition. If as a kid you’re going to skip dinner to go to a party with people you shouldn’t be partying with, mother’s intuition will say, hey, don’t let your child go there. Mother’s intuition says, today, wear your bike helmet. I don’t say it every day, but something about today makes me think you need to wear your helmet.

It’s not a worry stone of the mind if it’s right! And of course, it is. That day, the child falls off his bike and would have broken his skull open had his mother’s intuition not caught onto it. Or he would have gone to the bad party and gotten in with some really bad people. But he didn’t because of mother’s intuition.

Dads don’t have anything that cool or half as useful. We just have this intuition for when something cool or interesting is about to happen. So I said, son, watch.

And then the lion turned around to look at the lionesses. Okay, interesting, I thought. See, the dad’s intuition was really coming on strong.

He arched his back and stuck his butt up in the air. I think I zoomed in.

And then he sprayed us with his butt juice. Or maybe he urinated out of his bunghole. I’m honestly not sure about the biological process of male African lion scent marking, but it was definitely something!

The kids who were just entering the tunnel were oohing, aahing, and grossing out. It was incredible. I laughed. I had to. You don’t come to the zoo to watch lions lazing around all day. You want to see something interesting. Well, for my son and I and all the children who came to see the lion that day, Mufasa gave us something we’d never forget.

Sometimes adventures don’t have to be epic. Sometimes a silly adventure is good enough. And as long as I have my dad’s intuition, I should be able to find these kinds of moments for my son…

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