This Christmas Tigers will maul!!!

This Christmas I realized that anything is possible.

I was at my Grandfather's house, getting ready to have a lovely dinner with my family. My Grandfather lives in the Richmond District of San Francisco, two blocks from Golden Gate Park.

As we got ready to sit down and have dinner, I noticed the caption on the news report, "4 Tigers have escaped from SF Zoo and are on the loose in Golden Gate Park".

Every one was talking at the top of their lungs, I asked them to keep it down so that I could hear the news. Of course every one but my brother did. Asking him to keep it down some how triggers his inability to control his inside voice and he gets so loud that it becomes a personal insult that makes you want to slap him into silence. Forget "this one goes to eleven" , he feels the need to prove that he goes to twenty two.

A sense of panic came over me. Tigers are loose in the park? I could not get any more information because no one would keep it down. Why weren't they as worried as I was? Was I the only one who thought that this story was incredulous?

The next caption sent me into an even deeper panic: " at least three mauled by escaped tigers, one dead".

What? Where? What if I walked out right now and they were laying in front of my Grandfather's house? My Mom did just pull the most delicious leg of lamb (my Mom can cook!!) out of the oven and was in the process of cutting it. What if the deliciousness of her cooking had wafted to Great Highway and Sloat (less than 2 miles away) and lured them to the front of my Grandfather's house? My imagination was going wild.

I have watched the "man eater" documentary on Animal Planet. I may not be a Tiger expert but I know what these animals are capable of.

My anxiety and imagination continued to grow. As confused and conflicting tales continued to pour out of the television, I struggled to hear what was going on. The Zoo was not that far, I could get there from my house on my bike in 15 to 20 minutes.

I also grew increasingly frustrated with my family, why wouldn't they pipe down and let me hear what was happening? Didn't they understand our lives could be in danger?

I began thinking of all the homeless people who camp in the park. What if the tigers got them? I can think of one camp right near the Zoo that was especially in danger. What if these vicious man eaters were chomping on the old guy with the shopping cart right now? On Christmas!!!!

In my panic I devised a plan. I would hide my four year old niece in the crawl space between the bathroom and Uncle Jeffrey's room. I would hide every one else upstairs as well, and arm them with kitchen knives. I would grab my Grandfather's service revolver and I would shoot those tigers myself. At the time I gave no thought to the fact that I don't know how to use a gun or to the fact that my Grandfather turned in his service revolver when SFPD was giving people, something in exchange for their guns. I hope whatever he got was good because it could have caused all of us to perish when the tigers broke into his house, ate the leg of lamb that my Mom had so lovingly prepared, and then went after us. If that had happened, which at the time I felt was totally possible, our blood would have been on the hands of the SFPD gun exchange program.

I also gave no thought to the fact that there was absolutely no chance of escaped tigers breaking into some one's home and eating their Christmas dinner and then eating them.

But hey, what are the chances of a tiger breaking out of its enclosure and going on a Christmas rampage? Who goes to the zoo on Christmas?

I was getting very upset with my family. Why couldn't they be quiet for two minutes so that I could hear the news and find out if we were in danger? As long as those tigers were out there, I was not going anywhere. We were on lock down.

Finally my aunt turned off the tv so that we could eat. I was furious!! How dare she dismiss my anxiety with the push of a button just so that we could have a nice dinner on Christmas!! What was she thinking?

We had a very nice dinner. My windbag, know it all of an aunt and my father were talking about Presidential Candidates. At one point she compared Obama to Hitler and I chimed in. Is she drunk? My four year old niece felt the need to be part of the political conversation and brought up the fact that "In Africa they thought it was dying but then the China helped it live and sometimes people like to eat Chinese food". She was referring to the article in Time, that my loud brother had read to her, about China investing in Africa. A perfect bed time story for any four year old in our family. We get them socially conscious as soon as they are out of diapers.

The dinner was nice despite the fact that man eating tigers were waiting just outside. Every once in a while, I would catch myself remembering that fact. Some primal instinct would kick in and I would eat more food and pour myself another glass of wine. If I was going to fight these tigers I was going to do it full and drunk, just like the Ancient Romans. I would then again get distracted by some lame comment that came from my aunt's mouth. I think the next one that grabbed my attention was that black people gained the right to vote before women. A statement I cut down with the most bitchy and condescending tone I could find. Sorry auntie, Susan B Anthony and Reverend King were not marching arm in arm. Look at the time line!!! Shit look at the difference in their fashion!! The suffrage movement took place in the 19th Century!! Susan B Anthony died in 1906. Dr. King was born in 1929. Women gained the right to vote in 1920. I need another glass of wine.

But what about the tigers? None of this was important if there was a chance that we could get mauled the minute we walked out the door. I now had enough wine, lamb, string beans, salad and potatoes in me to win a battle against a 350 pound beast.

In my mind it was all possible. Like those dreams where you have super human powers. You know you have had them. I have had dreams where I have stopped bullets, fought off vampires with my pinky, and battled foreign armies that were trying to attack me and my family. Why couldn't I fight a tiger and win? My dreams, The Secret, Oprah, Deepak Chokra and Reverend Joel Osteen had taught me that anything was possible.

Dinner wrapped up and we were on to dessert. My brother began helping my Mother clean the kitchen. All of a sudden I forgot that he was louder than a sonic boom because he was actually helping. We sat down for dessert and listened to my aunt talk about why Hillary was the best candidate as we ate her home made apple pie. Suddenly nothing else mattered. Not the fact that my aunt talks too much about EVERYTHING, whether she knows what she is talking about or not. Not the fact that my Grandfather was growing increasingly annoyed that my niece was trying to be part of an adult conversation by talking about Chinese food and mimicking adult mannerisms, (he feels children should be seen and not heard). I was in a moment where all that mattered was the best apple pie ever and being with my family.

My Grandfather began telling us about his childhood in a small town in Mississippi. My Grandfather does not talk much, he is a man of few words. There have been times where we have sat together in silence for almost an hour. But when he does speak it gives me the feeling of being in the presence of a great spiritual leader who is making me realize my own spirituality within. His words are profound and poetic. Even when he is telling me about when he was two, he saw his brother drown in the bath tub, there is beauty in his story of tragedy. I had totally forgotten about the tigers.

Eventually my Father turned the TV on and my anxiety returned. They had gotten it all wrong. It was only one tiger and she never got out of the Zoo. Tragically, she had killed one and mauled two others. She eventually charged police who shot and killed her. I did not have to fight them off single handed in order to protect my family. The city was safe again. I think I will have another glass of wine.

I then began to think, how crazy is that? Can you imagine being those police officers? You go home after work, you are asked how your day at work was and your reply is "it was business as usual, except when I was charged by a tiger and I shot and killed her?" How random is that? You know those cops are feeling like ballers. "what you caught a bank robber? what ever bitch, I stopped a charging tiger!!"

When you live in a big city, you never think about nature affecting you in that way. Sure people have been attacked by mountain lions in Marin, but that is across the bridge. Plus I have the sense not to visit their territory. You go ahead and walk your nature trail. I will take the possibility of being mugged or car jacked over being mauled by a big cat any day.

I have been fascinated by this story.

The next day, I was watching the news. It had made national headlines and had made its way into one of the top stories on CNN. Jack Hannah and other animal experts were chiming in. Yet, I never heard from Dave Salmoni, which is kind of sad because he is hot, even though he is a totally arrogant idiot. Who in their right mind would try to gain the trust and acceptance of a lion den in the African wilderness? It is the new frontier. Now that colonization and oppression of people is no longer acceptable, they are going after the lions. They have to conquer something.

I could not stop watching the news. I remember thinking that some one had to have let that cat out. My mind went to some methed out, Peta freak in neon rave gear, hoping to prove a point about Burning Man becoming too commercial. I envisioned an arrest and a trial!! No such luck.

There was however, one solo woman with too many nose rings holding up a sign that said "honk if you miss our tiger" in front of the zoo. She told the news reporter how sad and tragic it was that they had killed the tiger and she would mourn its loss. Yes please annoying vegan, hippy bitch, mourn the loss of the tiger. The tiger who one year earlier tore a trainer's arm off. The tiger who on Christmas day killed one and mauled two others. Those police should not have killed it. They should have let it charge them and take whatever mauling that tiger was going to give them. They should have sacrificed them selves for that tiger, after all their job is to serve and protect, even tigers.

When she went on an on about how sad and tragic it was I grew annoyed. When she said that there were only 600 Siberian Tigers left in the world, I wanted to ride my bike to the Zoo and punch her. If you are going to stand there with a sign, get your fucking facts straight!! There are only 400 Siberian Tigers left. I stand corrected, now that SFPD have shot Tatiana, there are 399. Let us also face the fact that the minute she was named Tatiana she was doomed. She was either going to be a coked out stripper with an abusive boyfriend or a man eating tiger who was destined to go down in a hail of gun fire on Christmas day. At least she went out like a bad ass.

This whole experience made me think that you never know what is going to happen. Anything is possible. I am not talking about the good Oprah, Secret, Joel Osteen way. If a tiger can escape from the Zoo in my hometown and attack people a mere minutes from where we are having Christmas dinner, then it is entirely possible that Alien Robots from outer space could attack downtown San Francisco while I am sitting in my cubicle and then what would I do? Once again I would be forced to call upon my inner Sigourney Weaver, Will Smith and Bruce Willis and fight off Alien, mutant, man eating robots from outer space. Of course I would be victorious and I would do it all in a fabulous outfit with 5 inch heels.

The next day I bumped into a friend of mine on Haight St. He is a police officer. He had just shooed away a group of gutter punks from the corner and he was complaining to me about how he was tired of these spoiled brats who wanted to come to Haight St, slum it and do drugs. I concurred. We made small talk about life. As we were talking, I noticed some one pushing what appeared to be the world's ugliest child towards us in a stroller. I could not stop staring. What is wrong with that baby? Wait is that a tiny old man? Once it got close enough I blurted out "it's a monkey!!" My friend turned and yelled "holy cow look at that, can I take a picture?"

The woman pushing the stroller beamed with pride. "yes you can, it is a service monkey. blah blah blah.."

I then remembered that my dog was with me. I backed away from the service monkey for fear that my 100 pound dog would hurt the monkey. The monkey named Richard. The monkey wearing khakis, a button down shirt and a parka. I had terrible visions of my dog's primal instincts kicking in once he saw Richard, the parka sporting monkey. My dog never even noticed the monkey. He was more interested in the swarm of people around the monkey. In his German Shepard mind, they were all there to pet him. He is after all Mingus, the doggie Mayor of Haight St. Mingus spends his days making the rounds to stores on Haight St., getting his butt rubbed, and eating treats from merchants.

As my friend posed with the monkey for the picture, the lady who owned him began talking about how she had a disability and he was a service monkey. She said he was a simian monkey as if that was the breed. All monkeys and apes are simians. I know I am a nerd. It is genetic.

After he took the picture with the monkey my friend came up to me and said " I thought that monkey was going to bite me. Can you imagine I have to go back to the police station with a monkey bite?"

At which point I said "better than a tiger bite" and we both laughed. One day after a tragic tiger mauling we were cracking jokes over something that really wasn't that funny. Maybe it was our way of coping with such a random and senseless tragedy.

At least the monkey was funny. The monkey was ridiculous, especially in that outfit.

Seeing the monkey just confirmed my belief that any thing can happen. I resolved that in the New Year I was going to take Krav Maga. That way I would be capable of fending off anything that came my way, criminals, tigers and most of all alien robots from outer space.

My 24 hours of wild life encounters in an urban dwelling made me think, what was next?

Will there be one day when animals and alien robots from outer space are keeping us in a zoo? Recounting misguided news stories of us getting out of our cages, mauling robots and putting monkeys in ridiculous outfits from Baby Gap?

When something so random as the top of the food chain getting out of its cage and showing us just how absurd we are for trying to control and contain it, it makes you think, anything is possible.