In the 1950’s, my wonderful grandfather, Dada, would take me to the Zoo almost every Sunday – if we weren’t driving out Westheimer to Fulshear for Dozier’s barbecue and picking blackberries on the way back for my Mimi to make blackberry cobbler.
Back then, they were not the beautiful, natural habitats that you see in the Zoo today. As my five year old self recalls, there were lots of concrete cages, with steel bars in the front of them.
Back then, you wore your Sunday best to the Zoo. We were standing in front of the lion’s cage, amazed at the beauty of this exquisite male. He eased up to the front of the cage, lifted his leg, and peed about 12 feet out from the cage – right onto a lady’s fancy mink stole. We were all shocked, of course, but then I got the giggles and Dada hurried me on to the next exhibit.