Sad animal adventure (a photo essay of sadness)

Patrick and I decided to have an adventure day. We wracked our brains for adventurous things to do, and unfortunately the best we could come up with was a "Sad Animal Adventure," day at the Hogle Zoo. Maybe the most depressing zoo in all existence. But really I think every zoo is depressing. But Hogle zoo might earn the "extra depressing achievement" award. Although it is better than the shitty hovel of a zoo found at Lagoon, and other amusement parks.


Patrick, all ready for adventure. Lucky for us, and Patrick's posterity, this weird lady in the train conductor hat and overalls (conducting nothing, surprisingly enough) with the gross twin pony tail braids thought it pertinent that she include bunny ears, in order for the photo to turn out enjoyable.


$11.50 worth of adventure. And sadness.

We decided that since this was a sad animal adventure, it would be best to attempt to capture the sadness via pictures of the saddest animals. And maybe sometimes our sadness at witnessing the animals' sadness.


The first, and possibly saddest of all the sad animals we witnessed. It is possible that he was merely depressed because he looks like a monkey-skunk. But I think it was most likely the "living in a cage with artificial rocks and vines" part that had this little guy down. Or possibly dead; OD'd on sadness maybe.


This is how sad that sad creature made me. And I am currently sad about how terrible I look in this picture. Which is probably distracting you from the general sadness you would be/were feeling about the aforementioned sad creature.


A sad baboon, searching for happiness amongst the straw. And not even finding a little bit. Not even his flamboyantly colorful ass was enough to cheer him up when he couldn't find any happiness in there. Although if he turned around for a second and noticed the realistic renditions of rocks and a tree behind him, he may once again remember that his colorful ass makes him unique, and therefore slightly happy.


A sadder face, mine eyes have never before seen. Although I might be confusing it with an "I'm lucky to be alive" expression. Hard to know.


This sad orangutan was searching for something in the straw, and mostly only finding more straw. And sometimes cement. Which was underneath the straw.


A sad giraffe, wishing it could go back to the better days before it was born.


I was pretty sad here. But then I started to wonder why that giraffe didn't just walk its tall ass over that really short fence and bolt to freedom. I mean, come on giraffe.


Sad rhinos come in pairs. Perhaps these were just a little tuckered out from previously spooning while standing up. Seems an awful uncomfortable way to spoon, standing up.


The sadness overcame me here for a minute.


A sad, sad little elephant. Remembering how awesome the womb was, and wondering how he could get back up in there.


Way pist that this elephant only has 3 equally sized red balls to play with.


Just a sad little guy, languishing away in his circular cage home, which appeared to have been salvaged from an old metal circus cage, in which circus midgets ride tiny motorcycles around in circles.


So sad. So beary, beary sad.


A sad warthog, enjoying his truly hakuna matata life. "It means no worries, for the rest of your days (sing it kid)..." Except for, of course, the other warthog sharing your hovel who is constantly shaking dust all over the place. So hard to stay clean, living with an inconsiderate warthog.


Having long since come to terms with the futility of crossing to the other side of his 2 foot long cage, this turtle had wisely decided to live upon his food tray, and avoid unnecessarily having to move his neck when eating.


Probably the most intense animal at the zoo. Rather than wallow around in self pity like the rest of the creatures, this little guy instead chooses to stare everyone down. Well, if one gets in front of his line of sight anyway, since his eyes don't move. Doesn't even blink, this guy. I stared at him for 5 minutes before he blinked even one time. He probably hasn't moved since. A stalwart, remarkable creature.


Me, sitting on top of a fake sad otter, as was included in our "adventure pack."


Me and Patrick, acquiring hand diseases and having "fun."


This picture seems to say, "Put me in a cage, I'm not in one yet." Or, "Showcase me to the children while I do this or mostly lay down."


On the saddest, fastest train in Salt Lake county. As we were flying by the sad animals at an incredible rate, it was hard to really be able to see their sadness. The 2 bald eagles sharing a cage would have probably looked especially sad. But that train conductor (who wasn't even wearing train conductor garb) wouldn't even slow down so I could know how sad they were.


The ass end of a thoroughly sad buffalo.


Remnants of the saddest people on planet earth. And me, letting the Hogle zoo know how I felt about only having a tee pee, but not any real Native Americans.


Thought I'd take a break, but instead just got sad. Guess I was all tuckered out from the sadness.

I've decided that I'm probably never going to take my children to the zoo. I'm no animal rights activist by any means. I eat meat, and will always eat meat. Every meat. But there just seems to be something inherently wrong with putting an orangutan in a 15x15 cage, so fat little Americans can stare at it while eating hot dogs. And then wipe their greasy little hands all over the glass in excitement, while poor Mr. Orangutan wonders what it would be like to punch a fat kid in the mouth.

Why put them in cages when they can be seen so beautifully in their natural habitats via Planet Earth? I guess I can't understand how anyone can go to the zoo, and not leave depressed. But I also guess that lots of vegans can't understand how anybody can feel okay about eating meat.

Which is totally ludicrous, you silly vegans.