Wally and Me

Mentioned yesterday I had an amazing encounter with a chimp at Taronga Park Zoo back in 2001, so today I'll tell you what happened.

Wandering around the Zoo that day was a real pain because every time I lit a cigarette, all our snotty little brood would claxton their chorus of disapproval.  It was like having a herd of midgets for a mother, so naturally I took to sneaking off exactly like I was back in High School again.

So, while we were having lunch at the cafe, I snuck off for a quick one.

Nearby was a small tunnel. Inside the tunnel was a large glass window looking straight into the chimpanzee pen.  I lit a ciggy and a large chimp, sitting away from the others, sulking, saw me and instantly charged over, knocked politely on the glass then gave me the international sign language for "I want a cigarette."

Unable to believe I was doing it, thinking "I can't believe I'm about to communicate with an animal", I signed back "No!" and then mimed that I couldn't give him one because there was a pane of glass between us.  And then, because I was on a roll, I threw in Marcel Marceau's mime piece about that invisible barrier between us, hoping he'd mirror me.  Nope! Not an appreciative audience.  The chimp instead gave me the well-known sign of middle finger erect and huffed off to again sit away from the other chimps and sulk.

It was electrifying. We really communicated! No barrier at all!  We both understood each other perfectly. When I returned to the cafe I told the others and they simply wouldn't believe it - although I believe Baby Jane had her own interesting Doctor Doolittle experience shortly after - so the instant I saw the chimps' keeper I raced over and told him that one of his chimps had just "talked" with me.

The fellow shrugged indifferently and said "That'd be Wally Walpamur! He does things like that!"

If you don't already know, Wally Walpamur is a famous Australian TV star.  Let me see if I can find him for you:



Anyway, back to the story!
 
"What on earth is he doing in a zoo?" I had to know.

"Because it's wrong to anthropomorphise animals! He was saved and put in here with his own kind!" I was told.

 "But he doesn't like his own kind."

"He'll get used to it!" the horrible man said and stalked away!

Poor, poor Wally Walpamur, huh!  Looking at him, sitting so far away from the others, deeply unhappy with life, it was obvious he didn't want to be with his own kind; that he wanted to be on TV, dressed in silly clothes and wigs, playing lots of different characters, and having all sorts of vices, like smoking cigarettes and doing whatever else chimp celebrities get up to.

There's a whole argument in there about ethical treatment of animals that I really don't want to get into, although I know from that encounter with Wally which side I'm on.  

And that's the story of the only Doctor Doolittle experience I've had in my life.  Taronga Park Zoo. May 11th, 2001.