Choot It!

When I was younger, spending the night at my grandparents never failed to include three crucial things: we would play hide and seek, we would sit on the floor to eat dinner at the glass table in the den, and we would watch The Crocodile Hunter. Other activities surfaced from time to time, but these three were never failing. I'm certain that this is when my love of crocodiles/alligators was born. They are, and have been, my favorite animals for quite a while. (Yes, this is weird. Yes, this is unusual. When have I been anything but?) I could spend hours at the zoo searching for the alligators, trying to spot them on the bank or swimming in the enclosure. Once, I saw a toady little boy and his friends leaning over the edge of the alligator exhibit. I followed their gaze to see a gator, right up by the observation bridge! To my horror, I watched as the little pest unscrewed the cap off of his water bottle, flourished it before his cronies, and threw it as hard as he could into the exhibit, hitting the gator square on the back. I was so mad that I almost cried. Another time, at a Girl Scout career exploration day, I went to a presentation by a marine biologist. It was sort of boring, until the end of her lecture, when she reached down into a white cooler and pulled out a baby alligator and walked around the classroom, letting each of us pet it. I was so happy that I almost cried.

Now, with such strong feelings toward gators, I'm sure it's expected that I be appalled at the hunting of so noble a creature. Not true. I'm a realist, folks, and I realize that in a world overrun by Jurassiclike beings it won't matter one lick how much I admire the species - they will eat me. It is with this attitude that I have nursed an affinity for the unbeatable History Channel series, Swamp People. No kidding. I like this show a whole lot. Watch one episode, and you'll be just as hooked as if you were a gator on Pierre Part who happened onto one of Troy Landry's lines. When I heard that some of the Swamp People were coming to Flint, Texas, you bet your bottom dollar that I was there. Not only did I get to meet and take pictures with Mike Kliebert, I also got to realize a dream. I held an alligator. It was divine.