PandaIt only hurts now when I move, or laugh, which isn’t often. So that’s good, I suppose. And most of the nurses have been kind to me, although I’m sure I’ve heard a couple of the younger ones sniggering in the corridor. Childish. Not that I have anything against children. Seeing the kids having fun was important to me. More important than the animals in some ways, so working at the zoo was a treat. And I was pretty excited when Tony asked me to join the team that was looking after the Pandas. Edinburgh’s star-crossed lovers. I enjoyed looking after them, mostly.

But everything was a joke to Tony, wasn’t it?

“They’re not happy, David. Not happy at all. I think it’s the air. They’re used to the Chinese stuff. See if you can get some sent over.” Then there was the “sugar-free bamboo” nonsense. That was another day wasted. And dressing up in the panda suit so that I could rub myself against the glass. “Panda lap-dancing” he said “they go wild for it”. At least the children liked it. All very funny I’m sure. Until the artificial insemination incident: “We need a sperm sample, Dave… I’d wear these gloves if I were you.”

© Gerry Webber 2013

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