So long, Lulu, you’ve been around for a long time. 62 years, that’s about equal to the lives of 3 cats.
Mind you, cats, at least domestic moggies like myself, don’t live in zoos and so don’t have to present an amiable face to the world as you had to do – every day.
I hate zoos but you were better off in Taronga Park, Lulu, than you were in your younger days when you were forced to wear a tutu. You arrived at Taronga in 1965 after riding a bicycle in a circus in Florida. How humiliating that must have been!
(I hate animals in a circus much, much more than I hate zoos – at least you aren’t treated as a comic act in your enclosure)
While you were at Taronga, you had eight children, became grandmother to six chimps and great grandmother to another seven. That’s a lot of little chimps running around because of you, my dear.
They said that you liked housekeeping? Was that true? Perhaps you just like playing with a scrubbing brush and a bucket of water and, although that’s not my idea of a fruitful pastime, who am I to judge a chimpanzee? I prefer knitting myself, preferably with lots and lots of balls that unwind across the floor. Chacun a son gout.
It’s not an easy life living in a world run by humans but I’m told that you were enjoying a quiet retirement, lazing in the sun and being fed well.
And you had a better life than poor old chain-smoking Cheetah. Now that’s a sad story.
Both of you are at the Rainbow Bridge now, you’re in good company. Say hello to Joe the Fat Tabby for me (I still miss him) and give a High Paw to Chester