MY SITE
  • Home
  • Blog
  • Contact
  • Biography
  • Publicity
  • Events
  • Books (Suspense)
  • Books (Contemporary)
  • Books (Paranormal/Time Travel)
  • Books (Science Fiction)
  • Books (Historical)
  • Books (Non-fiction)

BLOG
​The Author's Journey

GIRAFFE-D
(Copyright 2022, Nancy Loyan Schuemann)
 it                      ​Chapter 1
 
     “Muck out the giraffe barn,” I was ordered by the lead keeper, as I was handed a broom.  
     My first day as an intern at the renowned Sunrise Zoo was a reality check. Winning awards in my majors of Biology and Zoology, had inflated my self-importance. Getting an internship in my junior year was another feather in my cap. So, I thought. I was soon to learn that being a zookeeper wasn’t the glamorous job I had envisioned.  A majority of my time was spent scooping poop.
     I reflected, as I sat behind my expanse of mahogany desk, in my spacious office, its shelves lined with books, a wall full of diplomas and awards, and a credenza displaying a personal history in photographs, alongside my giraffe figurine collection. My laptop was set before me, but I snapped it shut. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and thought how far I had come in my dream career. Little did I know that that starry-eyed student mired in dung was to one day be the director of the zoo where it all began. I ran the zoo. 
     Administrative duties replaced the hands-on animal care that I had grown to love. I had found that the relationships I had formed with animals far exceeded the tolerance I had for humans. When offered job promotions to the administrative side of the zoo, I had resisted. My mentor, the founder of the zoo, convinced me that I would have more of an impact on the survival of species by being the face and voice of the zoo. 
     A knock rattling my office door drew me out of my thoughts. Another proverbial fire to put out, I thought. I squeezed the bridge of my nose with my fingers, anticipating another crisis. 
      “Come in,” I said.
    My administrative assistant opened the door, and a tall, lean yet athletic man sauntered in. His easy stride reeked of confidence. The knit burgundy polo shirt, tucked into khaki cargo pants accented his strong chest and trim waist. He raked a stray strand of dark brown hair off of his cover-model worthy face. All planes and angles, a square jaw and Elvis’ lip. His sapphire eyes squinted at me, and he shook his head. Most men had the same reaction when they met me. They didn’t expect to see a woman as director of a world-famous zoo. 
       I forced a smile, the man’s cocky assurance unsettling.
      “I know, you thought that Tyler Mallory was a man,” I said, before he could speak.
      Apparently, he like so many others, didn’t pay attention to our zoo promotions, advertising, or staff listings. Most assumed that my assistant director, a man, held the top job. He was more the public face of the operation. Even in the twenty-first century, men had an issue with a woman being in charge. I sighed.
      “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Mallory,” he said in a whiskey-smooth voice. 
      At least he didn’t call me “Mrs.” as so many had, to test the waters.
    “And who is making my acquaintance?” I asked. I had neglected to look at my schedule for the day, and Arlene, my assistant hadn’t prompted me. 
     "I apologize for not having an appointment, but thought that I should be meeting you. Considering that we will be working together,” he said, standing before my desk. 
      I pointed to a leather wingback chair set across from me, He dutifully sat.
      “Working together?” I raised my brows. 
      He nodded. “Yes, I’m Dr. Noah Landsgraff, DVM, the new head of your on-site veterinary clinic.”
      “Excuse me, but I didn’t know that Dr. Emerson was no longer in charge.” I was perplexed. Why wasn’t I informed?
      “I’m sorry to be the one to break the news, but Nate had a heart attack last night.”
     “Is he?” I was afraid to say it. Nate was getting up in years, but had been so active that he appeared to be ageless and timeless. He was an institution at the zoo.
      “Sadly, yes.” His face grew somber, yet his eyes remained focused on me.
      “Oh, no.” I closed my eyes to process the news. 
      When I opened my eyes, I swiped a tear from my cheek. Nate was like a grandfather to me. This was heady news even for a Monday morning.
     “I’m truly am sorry,” he said, voice lowering. “He was like family to me. To say that I am heartbroken in an understatement.”
    “So, tell me, how did you suddenly take his place? Isn’t there supposed to be search committee, interviews, and a selection committee?” I asked, thinking of protocols in the bureaucracy of businesses. Even zoos were businesses.
    “I should say that I am the interim head of your onsite veterinary clinic. Nate and I had been partners in his private vet practice. After graduating from veterinary college, I trained and worked closely with him, making rounds, providing treatment, and conducting surgeries.  I know each species of animal intimately well at Sunrise, as I assisted him, and often took care of animals myself. Your assistant immediately called me, upon learning the news, to maintain a smooth transition of care at Sunrise, since I already know the zoo, it’s operations, keepers, and animals.”
      “I see.”
      Why didn’t I know this man? Was I so far removed from day-to-day operations that I didn’t know who even worked at the park? My job involved so such paper-pushing, delegating, schmoozing, and glad-handing that I didn’t even know what was going on in the facility that I was in charge of running? I was that out-of-touch? Reality check. I drew a deep breath. 
      “Don’t worry, a proper search committee is being formed, though I hope to keep the position. I love Sunrise, like a second home.” 
       His smile came back, all glittering teeth, and that lip had me suddenly getting flush. 
      “I wanted to introduce myself properly, and to assure you that the clinic is in good hands. I’m sorry that you had to hear about Nate from me.”
       “I’m just glad to know about Nate. He’s been such a fixture at the zoo, like a part of the architecture and exhibits. He was a vet at the zoo when I interned as a keeper many moons ago,” I said. “I just ignored the fact that he was getting old. I often thought that he’d die if he retired. At least he died while still doing what he loved.”
       I thought about Nate. He was still sharp, both mentally and physically. Only his shaggy gray hair and beard belied his age. No one really knew his age, as he wouldn’t tell. His secret. I assumed he had been in his nineties. 
      “As strange as it sounds, considering, I never thought I’d be attending his funeral,” Noah said.
       I grinned. Noah, as in Noah’s Ark, what a fitting name for a man who worked at a zoo.
      Nate wasn’t sure if you’d approve, but he wanted his ashes scattered in the marsh behind the clinic. He wanted to remain at the zoo, forever. It was his home and family.”
     “Dr. Landsgraff, of course I would grant Nate his final wish.  As far as I know, the man never married or had children. He had devoted his entire life to Sunrise.”
    “As have I,” I thought. It hit me hard that I had placed my career at Sunrise ahead of my personal life. Maybe being a woman, I didn’t think that I could divide my life between a career and family. Women zoo directors were still few and far between. Considering that in the 1930’s’, the most famous was Mrs. Belle Benchley, at the San Diego Zoo. I knew that if I wanted to succeed in the business, I had to give it 100%. So far, it was true. How could I have a husband, children, and run a household, when I had a 100-plus acre zoo, over, 1,500 staff, and over 3,500 animals to manage and nurture?
      “Nate is smiling at the Rainbow Bridge,” Noah said, pulling me away from my thoughts.
      “I’m sure that all of the animals who predeceased him were waiting for him,“ I added. What a lovely thought.
      “I bet that Apollo was the first one.”
     A tear escaped my eye, and rolled down my cheek. I had a fondness for Apollo, the tall, regal, stubborn, yet loveable giraffe bull that towered over the herd. He had grown old and feeble. The darkest day at the zoo, and for Nate, was when he had to put him down. It was like euthanizing a best friend. The keepers and zoo family mourned for weeks. Apollo was so loved, that a life-size brass statue of him was erected at the base of the giraffe exhibit in tribute to him. Only we insiders knew that his ashes were interred beneath that statue. I still choked up when I stood before his replica. No one you love ever lives long enough. 
      “Well, I don’t want to take more of your morning.” Noah stood, as I admired his fit, athletic form. He was a far cry from the aged Nate.
      I stood. “Thank you for introducing yourself, and telling me about Nate.”
      I put out my hand. “Thank you for watching over the clinic.”
      “My pleasure.” 
      As he shook my hand, a raw heat ran up my arm to my chest. I tingled when I released his grip. This was very strange. No one had ever had that effect on me.



Chapter 2
 
      “Dr. Landsgraff, it’s Tyler Mallory. I was wondering if I could accompany you on your rounds the next time you check on the animals. I fear that I have been sitting behind my desk far too long. If I am to guide the park, it’s about time that I physically interact with it.”
      I trembled as I left the message on his voice mail. Why was I the one who was scared? I was, after all, the director of the zoo. He was a subordinate, kind-of. Being a vet, his credentials, I supposed, far exceeded mine. I had to admit that I was unnerved by the fact that he was a handsome man, comparable to me in age. He wasn’t the first of his type that I met, but there was something about him that set him apart. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. 
      When he returned my call, I answered, “Dr. Landsgraff.”
      “Dr. Mallory, I got your message. Of course, you may accompany me as I make my monthly rounds. You must understand that my visits are short, and mostly with the staff. I have a team of vets who conduct routine exams, weight the animals, prescribe treatments and medications. Like you, I oversee the process, and advise. I am also the lead surgeon during procedures. Having over 1,000 animals, it would be impossible for me to care for each one, individually. I do have some favorites, as you will discover.” He chuckled. 
       “All keepers have favorites,” I replied, recalling my days as a zookeeper. 
 
      I hadn’t ridden in a Gator in years. More a golfcart than a truck, the green machine was the mainstay of zookeepers. They buzzed around the park, taking keepers from barn to barn, carrying supplies, and hauling used animal bedding to the compost pile. Noah treated it as a tour bus, knowing how ignorant I was of the daily workings of the park. 
He had seemed surprised when he showed up in front of the administrative offices, and saw me waiting for him, like an impatient bus passenger. He probably expected to see me wearing a prim and proper staid business suit, as I had during our first meeting. Instead, I was attired in cargo khakis, an official burgundy staff shirt, a baseball cap, and durable hiking boots. I may have forgotten how it was to be a keeper, but I still knew how to dress the part. We looked like twins.
      Traversing the park brought back memories. As we met with the keepers, I realized how young they were. Was I ever their age? The bright-eyed enthusiasm of youth shone on their faces. Funny how much energy and determination you have when beginning your career. Cherish the days before cynicism kicks in, and reality rears its ugly head. Granted, working in the animal world was less cutthroat and stressful than the corporate world. Every job, though, had its highs and lows.
We checked in on Methusala, the tawny male lion, with the shaggy mane. Age was catching up on him. His gait had slowed, as had his reflexes. Osteoarthritis was getting the best of him. His keepers were concerned at the loss of weight from his once stocky frame. He ignored the lionesses, now, preferring his solitude. The elder statesman of the Big Cats was reaching the end of his long life. I choked up, as did his keepers, when Noah had done his assessment. The hope was that the old guy would pass way on his own terms.
      The worst part of being a keeper was losing your charge. It was like losing a beloved pet, but magnified. Whether they were lost due to illness, accident or old age, the pain ached the same. I could see the sadness and resignation on the lion keepers’ faces.
      After a backward glance at the old lion, we proceeded toward our next barn, and patient. 
Behind the scenes at the Amur tiger exhibit was intimidating. I had forgotten how dangerous and breathtaking, the dark-striped beasts were. I remembered the old days of taking care of them. My first day on the job, working the tiger exhibit scared the heck out of me, though I couldn’t show it. Animals sensed when you were scared, and took full advantage of it. One had to be very careful when shifting animals. Extra precautions with locks, doors, and exhibit spaces were taken. I double, and even triple-checked everything. The last thing you needed was roaring company when you were cleaning out their housing. The cats were opportunists, just looking for a slip-up. 
      Tony and Tessa, the tigers, were expecting offspring in the near future. Once she gave birth, Tessa would be off exhibit to nurture her cubs. Tony did his fatherly duty by impregnating her. He would only endanger her offspring, if he were left with them. He wanted Tessa to himself. However, there was a new girl in town that he took a liking to. Stella had just arrived from another facility, and it was the first day they were sharing space. So far, so good. In 103-days there could be a new litter of cubs.
      As we walked in the back of the exhibit, Noah pulled me away from the caged area.
      “Better safe, then sorry,” he said.
      “I’m not close enough to be in danger,” I replied. I had, after all, been in charge of tigers at one point in my career.
      He chuckled. “Tony is a sprayer. He not only marks his territory, he often marks visitors, especially those he’s unfamiliar with.”
     “I see.” Getting sprayed by a tiger was something you never forgot. To me, the sticky stench was worse than that of a skunk,
      As he led me out of the exhibit, Noah chuckled. “I remember, years ago, we hosted a benefit. Part of the evening involved a tour of this exhibit. My fiancé had decided to wear a tiger-print jumpsuit, thinking that she was dressed to theme. I had some trepidation of her strolling by Tony. I warned her to keep far away from the cage. She ventured a little too close, and Tony sprayed her.”
      “Oh, my.” I gasped.
      He shook his head. “It was as awful as it seemed. All of the guests were stunned. And moved away from her. She was yelling at me to “do something.” Her jumpsuit was a smelly, soaked mess. She was in hysterical tears.”
      “What did she do?”
      “I escorted her from the party, to the clinic. Because we vets often spent many nights tending to sick animals, there was an attached bunkhouse with showers. She had to wash up, and a keeper lent her some slacks and a tee shirt. Not party attire, she was at least able to catch some dinner. Her expensive jumpsuit was tossed in the dumpster. No dry cleaner would touch it.”
      The animated way he told the tale made me laugh. So, he had a fiancé? 
      Noah was an informative and congenial tour guide. I realized how much I had missed surveying the grounds. When did my job keep me so attached to the office, to the computer and telephone, and to meetings that it was as if I didn’t work at a zoo? I could have been a corporate executive in any corporate office. I vowed to change that. How could I be an effective leader of an outdoor park, when I spent way too much time confined inside. Heck, most of the employees didn’t even know who I was until I was introduced. They didn’t know that I began as one of them. 
      “Let’s grab some lunch,” Noah said, checking his watch. 
      The morning flew by. I realized that I hadn’t checked my phone once. That was so unlike me. I continued to leave it in m pants’ pocket. 
      At a concession stand, we both ordered vegetable burgers and fresh-cut fires. I noticed that he liked to sprinkle vinegar on his before adding catsup, as I had. We sat at a picnic table.
      “So, tell me, how did you get started at Sunrise?” Noah asked.
After taking a bite of my sandwich, I explained, “As a college student, I began as an intern here. Every summer and on holidays, I assisted the full-time keepers. Upon graduation, I was offered a full-time job. The founder of the park, Jed Wilson, took me under his wing. Apparently, he saw more potential in me than I saw in myself.”
      “Jed is quite the visionary. Fresh out of college, with a degree in zoology, he borrowed money from family and friends, and bought a dilapidated farm, where this park now stands. He acquired a rescue zebra, Stripes, and a rescue giraffe, Apollo,” Noah explained.
      “Yes, and he named the park Sunrise Zoo, because he would watch the sun rise over the rolling hills.”
      “That’s right. So, you became a full-time keeper?” he asked.
      I nodded. “Jed thought of me as the child he never had. I guess my passion for animals, and Sunrise shone through. Do you know that he paid for me to get my master’s, PhD, and MBA?”
      “He is a generous man.”
      “Because of him, I went on a six-month sabbatical to Kenya, where I studied giraffes in the wild. I even met Dr. Ann Innis Dagg, and we compared research. Heck, I even spent a night at Giraffe Manor,” I said, thinking of fond memories. Going to Africa was the highlight of my life.
      “Now, I’m jealous. That’s on my bucket list,” Noah said. “My trips to Africa involved tents and huts.”
      “I experienced those, too.” I remembered camping out in the bush, especially in the dark, with the shadows and howls.
      “So, Jed is your mentor?” he asked.
      “Jed is like the father, or grandfather I never had.”
      “Your dad died?”
      I nodded. “When I was five. He and my mom were in an horrific car accident. I was raised by my widowed grandmother.” 
I rarely talked to anyone about my past. I only shared the part of my life spent at the park. It was, after all, my true home. Seeking empathy wasn’t something I craved. 
      “I’m sorry to hear that.”
      “We deal with the cards we’re dealt. I still think that I got a winning hand.” I smiled.
      “I haven’t seen Jed around the park in some time. He used to be a fixture, whizzing by in his golf cart.” Noah laughed.
     “I know. Everyone would scatter when he was coming through. I just met with him the other day. Age is creeping up on him, and he’s slowing down.” I was reminded of Methusalah, the lion.
      “So, who really runs the park, you, or him?”
       Noah was staring at me. I didn’t know whether to take that as a complement, or an insult.
     “I am in charge of park operations. When Jed retired, he recommended me as zoo director. Others in management agreed.      He made it clear, that as his successor, I would be completely in charge. He would step aside, and he did. He has full confidence in me. I’d never let him down.”
    “Seems like Jed made a wise choice. The zoo has doubled in size since you took over. It has been accredited, with flawless inspections by the USDA, ZAA, and American Humane. It’s not only self-sustaining, but generating a substantial profit. I’d say that you’re doing a lot right.”
      “Like Jed, I put the animals first. The staff is second, and all the rest follows. Happy animals breed. Contented staff stay for consistency. The park benefits.”
 
      After lunch, I had to admit that I was giddy. Visiting the giraffe barn was something I had looked forward to. I know that it didn’t make any sense. As zoo director, I could visit any facility in the park, but I didn’t. I had an animal collections curator to oversee the animal care team. Administrative duties ruled my life. There was so much I was missing out on, I realized. What happened to that young, adventurous keeper?
      Seeing the female and youth giraffe tower in the yard brought a smile to my face. I could never get enough of watching the giraffes glide through the lush landscaping. Most of the herd preferred to spend their days outside, when the weather permitted. Yet, some liked to linger in the barn 
      We entered the giraffe barn, the scent of alfalfa and musk, a familiar perfume. We climbed the steps up to the mezzanine overlooking the giraffe stalls. Upon seeing Noah, Zara, a young female cow approached. Zara was a bit of a loner. Like me, I was told that she preferred to be away from the crowd. She placed her long snout on the rail, and stared at Noah with her bulbous eyes. They were lined in black, with long, lush lashes any woman would envy.
      “She’s a femme fatale,” I muttered.
      “She knows that I always bring carrots.” Noah winked. 
      “So, that’s how you get the animals to cooperate. Through bribery?”
      He chuckled, reaching into a pocket of his cargo pants. He pulled out a carrot.
    Zara stuck out her long, purple tongue, and wrapped it around the carrot, when he presented it. She swallowed, and begged for another.
     "Leave her begging for more,” he mused, giving her another carrot. “These carrots are a lot cheaper than the ones human women desire.”
      “Like your fiancé?”
      He shrugged. “She returned the ring. We really weren’t compatible. Being a vet’s wife wasn’t exciting enough for her.”
      “Her loss,” I mumbled. 
      He met my gaze. After, he gave Zara another carrot. 
      “Zara seems to find me interesting, and she’s quite a babe.” He winked
      Observing giraffes in the wild, I thought of them as exotic animals, not hot babes. This vet had a warped sense of humor. Most vets were too serious, and overly scientific. 
      He handed me a carrot. “Your turn.”
      I took the carrot, and before I could present it, Zara had it wrapped in her tongue, and swallowed.
      “Carrots are contraband, you know,” he said.
      “Why?”
      "The head vet changed the giraffe snacks to healthier Romaine. Less sugar.”
      “Do as I say, not as I do?’
      “Sometimes, you have to live dangerously. It applies to giraffes, as well as humans. Life is short.”
      I pondered his words. Ever since I had returned from Africa, I lived life in the cautious slow lane. I was a trend setter in zoo circles, for thinking outside the box. Outside of work, I was probably the most boring person you ever met. When not at a business or zoo function, I could be found at home in my pajamas and bathrobe, reading. I had never been a party girl. I rarely, if ever dated. The introvert science nerd was who I had always been. 
      “I’ll have to remember that,” I muttered. 
      A loud thumping came from the stall beyond.
     “Oh, oh, Dante is getting jealous. His girl is getting all the attention,” Noah said, pointing out the tall, muscular bull housed in the adjoining stall.
     “I heard about Dante.”
    Dante was the breeding bull. He had already sired two offspring, and he was only six. He had his own stall and outside yard. Otherwise, he would endlessly harass the females. He had his time and place. 
     “It seems that all the women have a crush on him, giraffe and human. He is a handsome, giraffe specimen, full of bravado and testosterone. Everyone, but Zara thinks he’s a catch,” Noah said.
    Sensing that there were no more carrots, Zara ambled away from the mezzanine. Her stride was like that of a leggy, elegant fashion model. The windowpane design of her hide, with a few hearts in the unique pattern, lent her an even more sophisticated aire. 
      “She is the supermodel of giraffes,” Noah said. “She’s big, but tall and feminine. Dante is the athletic, superstar jock.”
      "Sounds like a match made in heaven.”
      “Not quite.”
      I stared at him.
      “There should be the pitter patter of little feet by now.”
      “Maybe she doesn’t want to ruin her figure?” I mused.
      “Zara plays hard to get. When Dante gets close, she wriggles away from him. In the giraffe yard, it’s an all-day game of cat and mouse. She won’t let him get close enough to taste the hormones in her urine, let alone to mount her.”
      All of this talk of giraffe sex was making me shift on my feet, when standing next to a man who reeked of testosterone, and had that curl in his lip when he spoke. I swallowed hard, and cleared my throat.
    “Theirs is quite the courtship dance. Not unlike humans who play hard to get, and the thrill of the chase. He’ll win, eventually. What a giraffe male does for a few minutes of “slam, bam, thank you, ma’am, pleasure.” Noah laughed.
      I bit my lip. I had to remind myself that he’s a vet. The sex lives of animals and their reproduction were a big part of his profession at the zoo. Propagating endangered species, the species survival plan, was the real reason for zoos, animal parks, and sanctuaries.  
     “The scientific community keeps saying that most animals act on pure instinct, save for primates, elephants, dolphins. I beg to differ. I don’t think they’re much different than humans. Take Dante. He has the pick of any female in the giraffe herd. Yet, he is obsessed with Zara. I see them playing favorites.”
      “Don’t say that out loud at conferences,” I said.
      “I don’t have to. Scientists think things they never say.”
      “In the wild, Dante would be a solitary nomad. Like a bee, pollinating flowers, he would go from female herd to herd, mating his way through life. Of course, he’d have to fight other males for the privilege,” I explained. “I’ve observed the sparring and necking. It can get rather brutal.”
      “Bruised egos more than anything,” he added. “I’ve witnessed the process, as well, when I conducted research in Kenya, Botswana, South Africa … on preserves and in the wild.”
      “Really?”
      “Between college and vet school. It’s why I decided to specialize in exotic animals.”
     "Interesting.” He was more well-traveled than I. “What other adventures have you experienced?”
      He chuckled. “More than I have the time to discuss in one day.”
 
      “Thank you for an enlightening day,” I said, when Noah dropped me off in front of the administrative offices.
      “Any time, you want some fresh air, a respite from paperwork, and a hankering to visit the animals, let me know. I tour the grounds once a month,” he invited.
      "I might take you up on that.”
      “Well, I’d better go check on the charges at the clinic. I’m feeling bad for the Aldabra tortoise with a broken leg,” he said.



Chapter 3
 
       I met Jed Wilson for early morning coffee, the first Tuesday of the month, as I always had since becoming director of the zoo. The visits were more social than business. He was more like a relative than a mentor. I respected him for his accomplishments. He took a lump of coal, and formed a diamond. 
     Initially, we had met at the beverage concession stand at the zoo. In later years, I joined him on the front porch of his vintage farm house, down the road from the zoo.  A cool breeze was chilling the dawn air, though the sun was peeking out as it slowly rose from the horizon. The orange and pink hues, that tinted the sky never grew old. The scent of mist and manure tickled my nostrils. This was farm country. Surrounding the zoo were acres of pastureland and hay fields, with some soy and corn growing on rolling hillsides. There was peace at dawn.
      I could hear the lions huffing, the wolves howling, and other species vocalizing upon awakening, from the park. There was nothing like the sounds of nature, before the noise of man interfered. 
      “I did something interesting this week,” I said, taking a sip of black coffee from a pottery mug. Jed liked his coffee strong, as had I.
      “And, what was that?”
      “I escaped the paperwork jungle, and took a Gator ride, making rounds with the interim director of the vet clinic.”
      "Noah?”
       I nodded.  “I felt foolish, not knowing who he was, until he entered my office, telling me about Nate.”
      Jed chuckled. “You do need to get out more, as I keep urging you. I’m glad that Noah convinced you. Noah is a great guy. He’s smart, honest, decent, and an asset to Sunrise. I’m pushing him to the permanent position. Nate groomed him as his replacement.”
       “He does know the park, and the staff really like and respect him,” I admitted, as I had observed.
     “That young man is one of the most highly respected zoo vets in the country. He has been offered far more lucrative positions around the country. Some of the largest zoos are courting him. Yet, he chooses to work here.”
       “Because those who work here, do so out of love. Sunrise is like being home.”
       “You younger folk are the future of the park,” Jed said, taking a sip of coffee.
       “I’m not that young.”
     “You’re only in your thirties. Wait until you get as old as me. Older than dirt.” He chuckled, raking a hand through his shoulder-length gray hair.
      I remember him telling me how people thought he was a hippie, purchasing the farm as some cult commune. They thought he was insane, when he showed up with a zebra and a giraffe. 
      “Like Nate, you are ageless and timeless,” I said. He was.
     He shook his head. “I have far more years behind me that I have ahead of me, I’m afraid that those days in the future are getting few and far between.”
     “Don’t say that.” 
     “I have to think of the future. I’m pondering a succession plan for the park, for when I’m gone.”
      I drew a deep breath, and swallowed hard. I couldn’t imagine Sunrise without its founder.
     “I’ve been in discussion with an elder care attorney, and the owners of other zoos,” he continued. “I have some decisions to make. I can form a trust, name someone to carry on my legacy, and continue park operations as they are. A seamless transition. I am being urged to form a non-profit, like the big city zoological parks. As a non-profit, there are not taxes, and the zoo would qualify for government assistance, grants and tax-deductible contributions. We could easily have an endowment of millions of dollars. Think of what the park could do with that?”
    “At what cost?” I asked. “A non-profit is operated by a board of directors. They are usually wealthy benefactors in the community with political, but not zoological ties. At least most of them. They tend to be more interested in the bottom line, than the welfare of the animals. The word “non-profit” is hypocritical.”
      “That can happen,” he admitted. 
      “The zoo that you founded, and sweated bullets over, would be in the hands of corporate donors.”
      He sighed. “Yet, most of the zoos in this country are run successfully, and humanely on this model.”
      “I know.” It wasn’t a model that I supported. 
      “Are you worried about losing your job, Tyler?” He stared a hole through me.
      I met his intense gaze. “It’s not about me. It’s about the welfare of the animals. I could be replaced by some hedge-fund type, who would commercialize the heck out of the zoo, and make life difficult for the animals. Sunrise is growing, and is not only sustainable, but profitable. It’s privately run, and privately controlled. It’s also one big family. Board members and their appointees, in general, don’t have a personal stake in the zoo or its inhabitants. I worked at such a zoo when I was in high school.”
     “It can go either way. Some non-profit zoos are incredible. A few hide the abuses behind lush landscaping and talented PR.” He leaned back in his Adirondack chair, and closed his eyes.
      “Of course, it’s your decision. You founded Sunrise, and know what’s best for the park, and its future.”
      My future depended on his decision.




Chapter 4
 
       Methusalah died in his sleep. I was heartbroken over that old lion. He was the patriarch of animals at the park. I was glad that I saw him one last time, while on the park tour with Noah. The keepers were surely shattered. As was protocol when a beloved animal died, the exhibit and barn were closed, and the keepers given the day off with pay. Though death was the downside of being a keeper, they were never alone. Sunrise was a family.
      I was seated at my desk in my office, editing a talk I was scheduled to give at a local Rotary Club. Community outreach was a part of my job. Being an introvert, I had to work hard at it. Arlene opened the door to my office, and Noah entered, unannounced.
      I looked up, startled. “Dr. Landsgraff. I wasn’t expecting you.”
      “I wasn’t expecting to be here.”
      His eyes appeared glazed over, and there was a tremble in his crooked lip. A chill of foreboding erupted up my arms. I met his serious, intense gaze.
      “I’m so sorry to be the harbinger of bad news, again,” he began.
      My heart began to race. “Nate, Methusalah, and now? I’m afraid to ask?” I mumbled.
      “It’s Jed Wilson.”
      I gasped. “Oh, no. Not, Jed.” I covered my face with my hands, and let out a cry.
      Noah was leaning over my desk with concern. I met his gaze, tears drizzling down my cheeks.
      “I, I just spoke to him last night on the phone,” I said. “He sounded like jovial Jed.”
      “He never awakened this morning. His visiting nurse arrived to check on him. It was too late,” Noah explained.
      “Nate. Methusalah. Jed. Death always visits in threes.” I sniffled, and cleared my throat.
      “The old guard are all together,” Noah said. 
      I nodded. I loved Jed. Jed was my mentor, like a grandfather, and the parks’ patriarch. He was Sunrise Zoo. My last coffee date with him was the previous month. We had been scheduled for another.
      “We just attended Nate’s funeral. I’m not liking this.” I choked on my words.
 
      The memorial service was held outside, facing undulating hills that drew Jed to the property. The sunrise service had been planned by Jed. The morning was clear, with the rising sun evaporating the dew on the meadow. Hues of gold, orange, pink and red formed a backdrop to the rising son. Jed had to have orchestrated the scene from heaven. I gazed up at the sky, imagining him strolling with Nate, Stripes and Apollo lingering behind. 
      “Seat taken?”
      Noah’s voice startled me. I looked up to meet his sapphire gaze. He pointed to the folding chair next to mine.
     "It’s yours,” I replied. 
     He sat, his hip brushing mine, and I tingled. There was something about him that unsettled me. Having him seated so close made me feel like a nerdy teenage girl with a crush on the school quarterback. Did I just think that? Though he was dressed in the Sunrise uniform of Khaki’s and a polo shirt, seeing him up close revealed his aquiline nose, square jaw, those mesmerizing eyes, lined by dark lashes. He was tanned from the sun, and smelled like spice. A prickly heat rose from my chest. I was still too young for menopause, and at the age for men to make me pause. Few men ever had an effect on me. 
      “Good morning,” he said. 
      “It’s too lovely for mourning,” I replied. “Jed loved “Red sky in morning.”
      “That, he did.”
      “I’m going to miss him.” I had to choke back the ears I was trying so hard to suppress.
      “We all will. There will only be one Jed Wilson. Sunrise is his legacy.”
      I nodded.
     A violist began to serenade with Jed’s favorite, “Greensleeves,” followed by Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.” The attendees were silent, but the animals began to serenade with their roars and caws. Tears drizzled down my cheeks. Glancing at Noah, he was swiping away tears. When one of the keepers stepped forward to sing “Imagine,” there wasn’t a dry eye.
     After, friends and employees stepped forward to share memories of Jed. Noah stood, and strolled to the front of those gathered.
      “The mold was broken when Jed Wilson was born,” Noah began. “Though I didn’t know him back then, I have the idea that he had a mind of his own, and a will of his own. He told me that after high school, he set off with nothing but a backpack, hitching rides across the country. He wanted to see every national park, and every zoo. To support himself, he worked at zoos. He pulled weeds, cut grass, shoveled manure, and eventually helped the keepers. He learned the business from the bottom up. Unknown to most, he had a dream. If he told anyone, they would have laughed him off. The residents around here didn’t know what to make of the long-haired, bell-bottomed guy driving a rusted old Beetle microbus. When he bought this overgrown, rundown farm, they thought he was insane. They knew he was nuts, when he came back with a zebra and a giraffe.”
       His recollection brought chuckles. I had heard the story numerous times from Jed. He was a legend.
    “Yet, who was insane? Look at the zoo he created? His dreams became a reality. He proved that if you dreamed of something, and wanted it bad enough, you could get it. He told me not to listen to anyone. Critics have stolen so many dreams. “Do your own thing,” the aging hippie told me. Work hard, and make things happen. Jed’s legacy is more than Sunrise. It’s a way of life,” he concluded.
      There was a round of applause, as Noah made his way to his seat. He said everything that I would have said, had I had the confidence.
      “Your turn,” Noah said, when he took his seat.
      I trembled. “My turn?”
      “As director of the zoo, and Jed’s protégé, you have to say something.”
      “After the speech you gave?’
      “You haven’t a choice.”
      I thought that I could sit back quietly and mourn. There was silence, and heads craned to look my way. I didn’t prepare a talk. Being put on the spot was not a good position to be in when you were an introvert. I realized that I was foolish to think that no one would want to hear from me. Next to Jed, I represented Sunrise.
      I stood, smoothing my at-the-knee -pencil skirt. It was black, as was the matching jacket. The silk leopard-print blouse added the only color. My hose was black, as were my practical pumps. As I slowly walked to the front of the crowd, I tried to compose myself, and come up with something to say.
      I cleared my throat, and began to speak from the heart, “Jed Wilson was the father and grandfather I never had. Most of you don’t know my story. Heck, some of you don’t even know that I’m the director of Sunrise. I’m quite the introvert. When I lost my parents, I was raised by my widowed grandmother. A strong, independent woman, she taught me to support myself at a young age. While attending college, on a full scholarship, she died. I had no other family. I was alone. That is, until I interned at Sunrise. Jed Wilson welcomed me, the staff and employees took me under their wing, and became my family. Upon graduation, I worked here full-time, learning every aspect of the business from the ground up. No job was to menial. I bet I mucked more stalls than anyone here.”
       Those gathered, chuckled.
      “Jed saw promise in me. He helped me secure scholarships, and helped me financially to continue my education, which included a research trip to Kenya, to study my beloved giraffes. Through the years, I learned the business. Jed had enough faith in me to recommend me as zoo director. I have tried my best to do him proud. We are all Jed’s offspring. Sunrise is our family. My hope is that we continue as a loving family, with a heck of a lot of interesting pets.”
      There were more chuckles. I looked up at the blue sky, and pointed to a passing puffy cloud. “I know that you are up there looking down on us, Jed. We will continue your legacy. We honor you. We love you.”
     I rushed down the aisle back to my seat, before bursting into tears. As I slunk in my chair, a broad arm hugged my shoulder, and gave a gentle squeeze, just what I needed. I hadn’t been touched by a human in years, and realized how emotionally needy I was. Removing my hands from my flush face, I glanced up to meet Noah’s warm gaze.
 



Chapter 5
 
       I dreaded the reading of Jed’s will. The attorney would reveal Jed’s decision and plans for the park after his demise.  After our porch discussion, he had met with his attorney to finalize the paperwork. Jed had to have had an inkling that his time on earth was coming to a close. Unlike most people, he didn’t have any heirs. He had outlived everyone with whom he was even remotely related. He did have Sunrise Zoo, his major asset. The fate of the property, the animals, the staff and employees were all contingent on what was in Jed’s last will and testament. 
      I cringed at the thought of Sunrise becoming a non-profit. Though lucrative, I viewed it as the demise of the Sunrise family. Outsiders would be appointed to operate the park as they saw fit. The atmosphere and dynamic of the park would be altered forever. I knew that my life would move in a different direction. I didn’t want that sort of change. Sunrise was a growing, successful, respected, sustainable, and profitable business, that loved and protected endangered species. 
      I sat in a sterile conference room at the austere downtown law firm. My assistant, Wade, twiddled his thumbs as he sat next to me, making me more nervous than I was. I knew that Wade was as concerned as me. He, too, had “grown up” at Sunrise.  The future of our careers and our lives were dependent on what the attorney revealed. 
      When the solemn man in the navy-blue pinstripe suit marched into the room, I sat up straight at attention. I noticed that Wade had done the same. He crossed his arms in front of him on the shiny burled wood conference table. I drew a deep breath for courage.
      The attorney snugged his tortoiseshell glasses on the bridge of his nose, before taking a seat across from us. He cleared his throat, as he set down neatly typed papers. The verdict was in.
      “As you know, Jed and I met a few weeks before his untimely demise. He was concerned about the future of Sunrise. His goal was to secure the legacy of Sunrise for future generations.”
      Here it was, I thought. I gripped the edge of my leather seat.
      “Jed had some serious decisions to make. He carefully, and thoughtfully, weighed all options.”
      My grip became more intense.
    “Dr. Mallory, I know that Jed’s decision would ultimately impact you, your career, and future at Sunrise. He took your thoughts into consideration.”
      The lawyer sighed, and I took that as an ominous sign.
     “Jed decided to form a trust, with you as trustee. Sunrise Zoo would be yours to lead and operate, until you name a successor.
      I gasped. 
      My assistant gasped. 
     “Jed made it clear that you were the closest he had to family, a daughter he never had. He was so proud of you, and so confident in your abilities that he, essentially, left you the zoo.”
      “I can’t believe it.”
      “You must understand that I advised him to turn Sunrise into a non-profit park. Instead, he didn’t take my advice. He did what he thought you wanted. Congratulations. I wish you the best of luck, and much success with Sunrise. Jed was confident that you were preserving Sunrise for future generations.”
      Tears glistened in my eyes. “I will do Jed proud.”
     The attorney removed his glasses, and shrugged his shoulders. “Jed was an unusual man. Do you know that he never drew a salary from Sunrise? He lived off a tiny inheritance he had been left in his youth. That inheritance had just run out at the time of his death. If that wasn’t the strangest.”
      I smiled. “That’s Jed. He was special.”
 
 
      To digest what had transpired at the attorneys, instead of returning to my office, I visited the giraffe barn at Sunrise, hoping to see Dante and Zara. Though I admired the entire herd, these two had stolen my heart. I needed a respite from humans. In the past, “giraffe therapy” calmed my nerves, and made me forget my problems and concerns. Giraffes were peaceful, quiet animals. Sharing time with them was something that had been missing from my life.
      I entered the barn, and approached Dante’s stall, since his was closest to the entrance. I looked up. He was peering down at me, through the wire mesh and sturdy walls dividing us. His imposing height was evident when you stood next to him. His legs alone were over six feet tall. In total, Dante was close to nineteen feet tall. To me, his face resembled that of a sea horse, with his thick ossicones, that resembled furry horns on his head, the hard bone protrusion between them, and that distinctive, curved face. He tilted his head, which made him more endearing.
      “You really are a heartbreaker, Dante. If you were human, I’d probably date you,” I said out loud, and giggled.
      “Hey, what about me?” a voice above me replied.
      I looked up. Noah was standing on the mezzanine overlooking us. He was feeding Zara her carrots. Was he teasing, or serious? 
      “Who are you to talk. You have your hot date,” I called to him, assuming that he was teasing. Why would he want to date me? Good looking men never dated me. 
      He chuckled. 
      “Come up here. I have a surprise,” Noah said.
      “In a minute. I have to give my boy a treat.” I met Dante’s gaze and tilted head. “You are so cute, you deserve a treat.”
      “Me?” Noah said.
      “You have good ears.”
     Before joining Noah on the mezzanine, I went into a storage closet, and pulled out a box of rye crackers. Dumping a handful in my hand, I took them to Dante, and fed him one-at-a-time. More contraband treats. 
 
      “I saw what you did. Rye crackers. Those are for training purposes,” Noah said, as I stepped on to the mezzanine.
      “How do you know that I wasn‘t training him?”
      "To beg?” he chuckled.
      “Look who’s talking. You keep giving Zara those carrots. It’s no wonder she’s getting fat.”
      Noah cleared his throat.
      “What?” I asked, hands on my hips. 
      A smile lit up Noah’s face.
      “What?” I repeated.
      “Zara is very pregnant, not fat. She and Dante pulled a fast one,” Noah said.
      “Pregnant? How?”
      “The birds and the bees?” He chuckled.
       I rolled my eyes. “I mean, how did you and your staff miss it?”
     “Female giraffes, as most female animals in nature, are very adept at hiding pregnancies. After all, they are most vulnerable when giving birth, and their offspring are endangered.”
      “I know that, but Zara is in a zoo, being checked monthly, by you and other vets, the experts.”
      "Zara is naturally, a very tall and big girl.”
      “Then, how do you know that she’s pregnant?”
      “She can’t hide the fact that her udders are engorging, and her teats pronounced. The staff have observed a lot of mucous discharge.”
      “She’s that far along?”
      He nodded. “She is full of surprises. Some giraffes don’t get milk until right before labor.”
     “Okay, so she’d have to have been pregnant for fifteen months. Fifteen months. No one knew? I studied giraffes. This is preposterous.”
      He shrugged. “There are exceptions. Remember, Mayte, the matriarch of our tower, who had us fooled, thinking she was pregnant, when she really had a hormone imbalance?”
      “I do. How do you know that Zara isn’t having a pseudo pregnancy?”
      He winked. “I just know. I’ve been observing her. Sneaky girl. She acted pretty normal until today. The keepers called me in. They thought that they were imagining things. In addition to the discharge, she’s had some pretty big jolts, a lot of neck stretching, tail raising, and pacing. Plus, her vulva is enlarging.”
      “This is crazy.”
      “A good kind of crazy.” Noah was beaming. 
      “So, we are on baby watch?”
      “Very much so. A keeper is going to be stationed in this barn 24/7.”
      “I’ll be monitoring the security cameras,” I said.
      “So, we have a cause for celebration. Zara is going to be a mommy, and Dante a baby daddy. I say we open a bottle of champagne,” he said.
      “I’d save the champagne for after a safe delivery.”
      “Okay. I still say that we need to celebrate.”
      “We?”
      “Gee, you told Dante that you’d date him if he were human. What about me?
I am human.”
       My heart skipped a beat. I stood staring at him, dumbfounded. This intelligent, charming man was interested in me?
      “Are you serious?” I asked.
      “Haven’t you ever been asked out on a date?” he asked, arching his brows.
      “We work together.”
      “As equals.”
      “Why would you want to go out with me?”
      “Why would Dante be interested in Zara? I find you fascinating, and beautiful.”
       I laughed. “Me? Beautiful? I’m an awkward nerd.” 
     “Haven’t you ever looked in a mirror? You’re lovely. Your hair is like spun cornsilk, your eyes like seawater, your face is very classical, and your figure enviable. Yet, you hide your beauty.”
      “I, what?”
      “Just because you are a zoo director, an executive, you don’t have to look so prim and proper. You’re still young. Embrace your beauty, and your age.”
      “No one ever said this to me. I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered.”
      “Be flattered. I discovered a quaint seafood restaurant on the lake a half-hour from here, that I’m sure you’d like. I can pick you up after work on Thursday, at seven? Here, or at your doorstep.”
      “You really are asking me out?”
      “Yes. Hey, we have reasons to celebrate. Jed made a wise decision. You are the future of Sunrise, and Zara is having a baby.”
      “Fraternizing with the boss?” I teased.
      He grew serious. “No. You know that isn’t true.”
      “I was just … “
      “Seven?”
      “Okay. I’m game.”
      Yes, it was time for me to start living dangerously.
 



Chapter 6
 
     Noah had sophisticated taste when it came to restaurants. The outdoor patio, lit by strings of glittering twinkle lights, overlooked a moon-kissed lake. Our table was at the rail, giving the appearance that we were alone, on the edge of the world. Glittering stars overhead added to the serenity. Being a week night, there were few guests. The atmosphere was peaceful and quiet. The square table was set in fine linen, with china, silver, and crystal, with a vase of red roses as a centerpiece. To say that it was romantic was an understatement.
      "Dr. Landsgraff, you certainly know how to impress a woman,” I said.
      “It’s Noah.”
      His smile, with that upturned lip was as charming as all heck.
      “And, I’m Tyler.”
      He reached his hand across the table. “Pleased to make your official acquaintance.”
      I shook his hand, its warmth and strength disconcerting. Never had a man made me feel giddy from a mere handshake.
      “Now that formalities are out of the way, wasn’t I right about this place?” he asked.
      “It’s far more than quaint. I do like it.” I took my linen napkin, and folded it on my lap.
      He did the same. After, he steepled his hands on the table. “I was finally able to lure you away from the zoo.”
      “I know. I’m a hopeless work-a-holic.” Didn’t he know that work was all I had?
      A waiter came to fill our water glasses, and take drink orders.
      “A bottle of Pino Grigio,” Noah ordered.
      After the waiter left, he asked, “I hope you drink wine?”
      “I may be prim and proper, but I do have a drink now and then. It happens that white wine is my preference.”
      “So, what do you like to do when you aren’t behind your desk, mired in projects?” he asked.
      I had to ponder. “I read.”
      He raised his brows. “Why am I not surprised? Go on.”
     "That’s it. When I’m not working, I read.”
      “No hobbies, sports, interests?”
       I shook my head. “I’m afraid that I’m boring.”
      “No, I think that you just haven’t tried other things.”
      "Like, what?”
      “For instance, I like cycling, hiking, kayaking, camping. I bet you’d love the outdoors, and being out in nature, being so animal-centric.”
       "I never tried.”
      The wine arrived. He poured. Picking up his glass, he raised it to make a toast. I raised my glass, and he clinked it to mine.
      “A toast to the new Tyler. I’m going to make it my mission to get you away from that desk and those books once in a while. Let’s start with hiking.”
      “Okay, I’m game.” I needed to get out of my comfort zone. 
      We sipped wine. For some reason, it tasted better with company. The idea of going on adventures with Noah added to my plan to live taking more chances. I need to rediscover the brave girl who ventured to Africa.
      “There’s a county park, a few miles from the zoo. The wooded trails are teaming with native species and flora and fauna,” he said. “We can start there.”
      “Okay. I don’t want you to think that I’m some hopeless cause.” I sipped more wine.
      “If you were hopeless, I wouldn’t be planning fun outings.”
      “I have to admit, that I really do need to get a life when I’m not working. I also need exercise.”
      "And, motivational company?”
      “That, too.”
      He set down his glass. “I’m curious. What do you like to read?”
      I could feel my face flushing crimson. “I like romance novels, especially historical.”
      He chuckled.  “A romantic, at heart”
      “I suppose.”
      “You don’t have cats, do you?”
      I stared at him. He thought that I was a crazy cat lady? 
      “No. The only cats I deal with are at the zoo,” I replied. 
      “That’s good.”
 
     We had a delightful dinner, with conversation that gravitated toward animals and conservation. Comparing our experiences in Africa was enlightening. We had a great deal in common. I had never discussed my adventures with anyone, but Jed. Having someone else listen, who understood and could relate, was refreshing. For once, I wasn’t alone with my bottled-up memories.
      “I took tons of pictures,” I said, not mentioning that no one saw them, but me.
      “I have a bunch, too. We need to share them. Mine are all prints. I wasn’t into digital back then.”
      “Neither was I. I have stacks of prints.”
      Everything we talked about seemed to point toward future social meetings, dates. As the evening wore on, I became more comfortable, and animated. Maybe the wine helped, but I was crawling out of my shell. Maybe being alone wasn’t in my best interests. I was realizing that sharing life with someone else had its benefits. 
      We were having dessert when our cell phones rang in unison. I set down a spoonful of crème brulee, to answer. He did the same.
      “Hello.”
      After hanging up, we stared at each other, and laughed when we both blurted out, “Zara is in labor.”
 



Chapter 7
 
      Noah drove like a madman, or an expectant father, to Sunrise. He peeled into the park. He took my hand, as we raced from the parking lot, down the paved trails, to the giraffe barn.  We entered the dimly-lit barn to cocked eyebrows and stares from the gathered staff. Everyone was quiet, and trying to be as inobtrusive as possible, while observing Zara. Noah released my hand, and huddled in a corner for a conference with the lead keeper and collection curator.
     I realized how out-of-character we appeared. I was wearing a short, bright geometric print wrap dress with hot pink platform sandals, an outfit I had in my closet, still with tags, when I pulled it out. I had bought it a year ago, but hadn’t been confident enough to wear it, until tonight.  Noah was attired in crisp navy linen slacks, with a silky blue shirt, open at the neck, that accented his eyes and lithe form. Coming in holding hands sure raised enough eyebrows. I’m sure we provided some fodder for the next day’s conversation. For now, all thoughts, and eyes, were on Zara.
      Zara was pacing in circles. An amniotic bubble, an opalescent sac, protruded from her back end. She looked as if she were pooping a huge bubblegum bubble. She kept reaching back to lick around it. The next step would be the appearance of baby hooves. 
      I joined the staff, seated on hay bales across from Zara’s stall. The radiant giraffe had more on her mind than the humans watching her. She even ignored the herd of female giraffes peering in to her stall from their side stalls. Being evening, everyone was locked inside, with Zara as the evening entertainment. I wondered if the other female giraffes were sympathizing with her. To heck with science saying that giraffes were devoid of human-like emotion. Her eyes were glazed over, as if in a daze.  Stretching her neck, as she walked, strong movement was visible in her abdomen and hips. At times, she would spread her back legs, raise her tail, and bear down. She appeared in obvious discomfort. Most births, even human, were equated with fitting a square peg through a round hole. The thought of having a baby of my own made me shudder. 
      I peered over at Noah. He was slinking around the stall to get views of Zara from all angles. I realized that he was in his element. As a vet, he had to observe, to make sure that everything was progressing normally. If not, he would have to determine what human intervention was necessary. I’m sure that his adrenaline was flowing under the stress. 
      There was an audible gasp when she spread her legs, lifted her tail, bore down, and the bubble burst. Small hooves appeared, dangling as she walked around the stall.  Zara kept reaching back to lick the little hooves clean. Being a first-time mom, I wondered what she thought, or did instinct kick in and tell her what to expect?
      After a while, a snout appeared. A head popped out. What an adorable little face, eyes surveying the strange new world for the first time. Cute, fuzzy ossicones plastered to the narrow head. Welcome to the world, little one!
     I couldn’t imagine how it felt having a baby hanging out mid-birth. Zara paced, licked the little one, and repeated the process. The front hooves, head and neck stretched out over the front knees gave the baby the appearance of a diver ready to dive into a pool. 
      With spread legs, a taut neck, and a big push, the baby sailed out of Zara, falling six feet to the floor with a thud. Though the process appeared traumatic, I knew that it served a serious purpose. The fall ruptured the amniotic sac and cut the umbilical cord. The thud was the equivalent of a doctor slapping a baby’s behind after delivery, to clear its lungs and make it breath. 
      The baby lay in a wet heap, showered with amniotic fluid. Newborn giraffes were so still that one wondered if they were even alive. Zara reached down, to lick the little one clean, and to stimulate circulation. The little head popped up, with a nudge from mom.  Soon, it was sitting, observing the new world around it.  Mom continued to lick it clean. She gently nudged the baby with her hoof, as if to tell it that it was time to get up and stand. 
      I knew that in the wild, it was critical that newborn giraffes, stand, walk, and run as quickly as possible to evade predators. If I recalled, over 50% of all babies born in the wild perished, mostly as food for a hungry predator. So many animal rights people claimed that animals were safer in the wild. The wild could be a cruel place. Predators, hunters, poachers, trophy hunters all preyed on giraffes and other species. Those who were in captive management were protected. That protection, and prolific procreation would continue the species, to prevent extinction. There were only 100,000 giraffes in all of Africa, with some sub-species more endangered. I had witnessed many giraffe births. Every birth was a special gift to the world. It assured the continuation of an endangered species. 
      Zara kept nudging the baby, until it attempted to rise. On “sea legs,” the baby tried to get up, but tipped over. Tried again and fell over. Once more, toppled over. Finally, it made to all fours. Oops, it stumbled and rolled over. Made it to all fours again, and stood, looking around, seemingly proud of itself. One small step. Another small step, and it was walking with a wobble. As it tried and tried again, its stride became stronger. Zara positioned herself over the baby to prompt it to nurse. It dutifully found a teat, latched on and nursed. That first sip of colostrum was critical for good health in newborns. Everyone watching gave a collective sigh of relief. Even the giraffes in the other stalls, including Dante, were watching quietly.  
      I saw Noah chatting with the lead keeper and the collection curator. The smiles on their faces revealed all. This must have been a textbook birth, with a seemingly healthy baby and an attentive, gentle mom.
      Noah approached me, his smile as radiant as that of a new dad. I wondered if this is how he would look if he fathered a baby. He raked his hand through his thick hair. This had been a long night. The few hours in the barn had passed quickly. Most of the staff were yawning, and leaving. The lead keeper stood nearby, continuing to watch Zara and the baby with pride. 
      “That was a beautiful surprise,” he said.
      “I’ll say. It looks like everything went perfectly.”
      “Textbook. For being a new mom, Zara has incredible instinct. She’s perfect.” 
      “I’ve witnessed quite a few giraffe births, but when they happen at your facility, they are very special. Having a healthy birth is best of all,” I said.
      “This baby looks healthy. Mom looks very healthy. She just expelled the placenta, always a good sign. It’s time to let mom and baby bond. By morning, I imagine this little one to be doing zoomies all over the stall.”
      “I can’t wait to see that.” 
      “Is Sharon staying over?” I asked about the lead keeper.
      He nodded. “She insists on keeping watch all night. It’s really not necessary, but Zara is her personal favorite, her baby. I guess she’s the closest this baby has to a grandmother.”
      I smiled. 
      “Okay, we need to make a bet. Boy or girl?” he asked.
      "How do I know that you don’t already have an answer. You were watching mom and baby rather closely.”
      “It’s hard to determine the sex of a newborn. When we go in tomorrow to do a health check, and pull a weight, I’ll know.”
      “I don’t bet. I will say, though, that most giraffes birth boys. I’d really love to have a little girl.”
      "I can see it now, ribbons and bows wrapped around those cute, fluffy ossicones.” He chuckled.
      “Don’t I wish?” 
      “It’s getting late. I need to be getting you home.” He reminded me that he had picked me up at my home for our date. The date seemed so long ago, as the evening had taken quite a turn.
 
      Pulling into my drive, he parked his Range Rover, went to my side of the truck, and opened my door. It was nice to know that chivalry wasn’t dead. He had opened the car door much the same way before we left. Without a word, he took my arm and escorted me up the front steps, on to my porch, and to the front door.
      I fumbled with my keys.
      “If it were earlier, I’d invite you in for coffee, after what transpired.”
      He glanced at his watch. “Caffeine would only keep me awake. I need to sleep. In five hours, I need to rise and shine, to get back to work.”
      “I have a couple extra hours on you, but tomorrow morning is going to be difficult.”
     “But, hey, we have a baby giraffe to check, and to lift our spirits. At ten, you need to be in the giraffe barn for the baby wellness check and weigh-in. You get to find out if you got your girl.” He winked.
       I smiled at the thought. “This has been quite a fun evening.”
      “It was fun because I shared most of it with you.”
      His gaze made a shiver rush up my spine.
      He placed his hands on my shoulders, bent his head, and planted a chaste kiss on my cheek. 
     Gazing into my eyes, he said, “Good night, Tyler. It’s more fun to have someone to share these momentous occasions with. Remember, we have a bottle of champagne to open, to celebrate Zara’s new baby.”




Chapter 8
 
       I was at the giraffe barn promptly at ten. There was no way that I was going to miss the baby’s big day. I had missed too many big occasions at the zoo. While my staff celebrated animal births, I was holed up in my office doing paperwork or making telephone calls. No more. I was going to make time to get out, mingle with my staff, visit with the collection curator, and check on the animals. I had chatted with everyone in my office, but not on the grounds, in their work environment. Offices were sterile places. I fear that I was becoming as chilly as the building. Noah opened my eyes. I was presented with an incredible opportunity. Operating a zoo was something dreams were made of. 
      When I entered the giraffe barn, the giraffe staff and keepers were gathered. All eyes were on Zara and her spirited offspring. Noah was right. The baby was zooming around the barn. It seemed enchanted with its legs and mobility. The creature was a mini-me of its mom. If only there were miniature giraffes, how cute would that be? The thought brought a smile to my face.
      Upon seeing me, Noah ambled over to my side.
      “Glad you made it,” he said. “This is the fun part of the job.”
      “I thought that all of it was fun.”
      "Babies are the best.”
      I wondered if he considered baby humans best, too? Crush the thought.
     "Okay, we are going to distract Zara, and get her in a holding pen. Once secured, we will step in and physically examine the baby.”
      "Zara will not be happy. Moms don’t like leaving their baby.”
      “We try to work as fast as possible, as to not stress either of them. If you come with me, you can enter the stall and see the baby first-hand.”
      “I’d like that a-lot.”
      “You can help assist.”
      “I’m game.” I knew that there was nothing more cute than a baby giraffe.
 
      A keeper distracted Zara by leading her out of the stall, and in to the holding pen with her favorite bucket of fortified grain. Once Zara was safely in the stall, it was locked behind her. 
      The staff swung into action. A flat scale was brought in, as were exam supplies. 
     The baby giraffe was laying down, when Noah approached, soothing it with a calming voice and manner. He withdrew a stethoscope and checked its heartrate. Getting the baby to rise, the staff surrounded it. Noah, who had to be all of six-foot-four, lifted the baby like a giant stuffed animal, and placed it on the scale. The baby was curious, but cooperative. It seemed to enjoy the attention. I stood nearby, and was able to run my hand down the baby’s soft hide. It was muscular, with the fluffiest little ossicones. It weighed in at 160-pounds. It measured at six-foot-one. Blood was drawn, and the filled tubes handed to me to hold on to. A staff member documented the exam in photographs.
      After, the scale was removed. We left the stall. Zara was let back in. She raced to her baby’s side, and the baby rushed to find a teat, and nurse. All was right with the world.
      “There, that wasn’t so bad,” Noah said, swiping perspiration from his brow, as we stood outside of the stall in the hallway.
      “You forgot one thing,” I said.
      “The sex of the baby. You didn’t look?”
      “I couldn’t quite see.”
      He chuckled. “A beautiful, healthy baby … girl.”
      “I got my wish.”
      “No ribbons and bows allowed.” He chuckled.
 
      After greeting the baby giraffe in the barn, my attitude changed. I realized that I needed to see the animals, in addition to shuffling paperwork, making phone calls and appointments. I needed to set time in my days for barn and exhibit visits. I had staff to delegate all animal care, keeper care and park care. I couldn’t delegate self-care. 
      Jed was hands-on. What happened to me? I had staff to handle all of the day-to-day duties. The collections curator dealt with the keepers and animal care. My assistant, Wade, worked with the management teams, to coordinate operation of the park. My role was to oversee the “big picture,” forecasting, planning, leading, budgeting, making sure that the zoo ran smoothly, efficiently, and had something new to offer the public every season. More and more, I was becoming the face of the zoo. My anonymity was eroding. This introvert had to learn to be more of an extrovert. For me, it was like being an actress taking on a role. 
      Noah was either a good or bad influence. Though he spent a great deal of time at the clinic, he did take time to stroll the park, observing animals and directing his staff.  When I decided to visit the park, it seemed that I always ran into him. This wasn’t planned, but fated. He seemed to gravitate toward the giraffe barn, as had I. Having a new giraffe baby was a good excuse. It wasn’t very often when a zoo had an adorable calf, especially a female. A contest to give her a name was held, and she was called Daisy. The name suited her whimsical personality.
     Sunday was my designated day off. When Noah heard of it, he planned adventures for us. We hiked the trails at the nearby county park. He taught me how to Kayak and canoe. I drew the line at horseback riding. As much as I loved animals, I couldn’t have one directing me, though Noah assured me that I would be in control. I had my doubts.  
      I liked his easy-going ways. Though Noah was dedicated to his profession, and put in long hours, as had I, he knew how to draw the line between work and play. He could be laid-back and fun. The intensity and stress that ruled my life dissipated when I was with him. There were more than books that could calm me down. Exploring the world outside of the park, and even in the park, relaxed me. Spending time with Noah, and talking to him were comforting, like a ratty old familiar blanket. Ours was a friendship blossoming into a romance. 
      I hadn’t had a boyfriend since college. My career was my life. There was no time or desire for distractions as I studied hard, and climbed the ladder to success. Being the director of the zoo, I found that I had some breathing room, if I chose. For the first time, I chose to step out of the comfort zone of my office, career, and personal life.
      Noah was changing my life. Being with him was being with my best friend. We both dedicated our lives to the welfare of animals. Captive management, to prevent the extinction of species was our passion. Gravitating toward giraffes was our fun. Being in the giraffe barn, especially around Dante, Zara and Daisy brought us joy and laughter.
      “If the G’s were human, what would their professions be?” he asked, with a cocked eyebrow, and a crooked smile.
      I pondered. “Zara would definitely be a supermodel turned actress. I can see her at the spa getting beauty treatments, wearing haute couture, and having men grovel at her feet.”
      Noah chuckled. That’s a great assessment.”
      “Your turn. “What about Dante?”
      “He’d be the star quarterback on the Superbowl winning team. Tall, athletic, self-assured, and a ladies’ man,” Noah said.
      “That’s good. Seems to me that they are made for each other. Oh, and Daisy would be their love child.”
      "This sounds like a soap opera.” Noah chuckled.
      “Funny, we see them as celebrities, not normal folk, like a director of an animal park and a vet.”
      He placed his arm over my shoulders. “We aren’t famous? Darn! Maybe we just need to become infamous.”
      I glanced at him, and our eyes met. I could have drowned in his deep blued gaze.
      “I think that we are already infamous at Sunrise,” I whispered. “There is gossip.”
      “Let’s give them something to talk about.”
     He lowered his head and kissed me on the lips. Time stood still. I was no longer in a giraffe barn, but on some distant planet, having an out-of-body experience. No one had ever had that effect on me. 



Chapter 9
 
      "Hey, Noah, congratulations on the job offer,” Wade said, as he sat at the conference table to our weekly staff meeting.         Noah was already seated. I was at the head of the table, setting up a Powerpoint on my laptop. I stopped, and stared at Wade, and at Noah. Job offer? Oh, did Sunrise finally offer him the permanent position directing the vet clinic? No one told me?
      “Nothing has been confirmed. I’m still thinking about it,” Noah answered. “I need to ponder it, as well as the offer of the permanent position at Sunrise.”
      Wait, we were just out to dinner the previous night, and Noah didn’t mention a job offer, in addition to Sunrise. He had headhunters stalking him all the time with job offers. He said previously that Sunrise was his home, and he would never leave it. I stared a hole through him.
      He avoided my gaze. 
      “I know that it’s your dream job, always has been. Heck, running a veterinary clinic at the Hazina Preserve in Kenya would be incredible,” Wade added. 
      Noah sighed. “I know.”
      Before I could comment, other staff filtered into the room, with their animated chatter. I would have to keep them engaged in park business. We had several new species scheduled for arrival, exhibits to be completed, and logistics arranged. This wasn’t the time or place to discuss personal business with Noah.
      The collections curator sat, and said, “Heard about the offer, Noah. Didn’t you study and work at Hazina when you were in college?”
      Even she knew about  Hazina, “Treasure,” in Swahili, a prestigious animal preserve.
      He nodded. “An incredible experience.”
      “Their new giraffe conservation initiative is showing measurable success.”
      I was shifting on my feet. Funny, everyone knew, but me, and I was supposed to be his girlfriend. I couldn’t act like I didn’t know. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? 
     “Opportunities only come once in a lifetime, don’t they? Africa appears to be your future. It won’t be the same when you leave,” I said, with a bit of snark in my voice.
      All eyes were pealed on me, and turned to Noah, as if we were players in a tennis match.
      “As I said, I haven’t made a decision.”
      I cut to the presentation I had planned for the meeting. Red pandas and Okapi were on my agenda. Noah was on my mind.
 
      After the meeting, I rushed to my office, closed the door, and told Arlene to stop anyone from coming in, especially Noah. I immersed myself in paperwork. I had to complete acquisition and quarantine forms for the new animal acquisitions. Losing track of time, I saw that it was already five o’clock. I stepped outside of my office, just as Arlene was getting ready to leave.
      “No one came,” she said, before I could ask.
      “Okay,” I mumbled. 
      I wished her a good evening, and returned to my office. After-hours work was always more productive. No interruptions, telephone calls or distractions. I plopped in my chair, and sighed. Noah had the audacity to ignore me. Was he just planning on handing in his resignation, and jetting off to Africa without explanation? I thought that we had something special. Was I jilted again, like I had been in college? In college, I cried. As an executive, I seethed. 
 
      The next morning, I arose at dawn, and was the first person to arrive at the zoo. Dawn was a special time. The animals were all awakening from a long night. Fog was lifting, and the cool, misty air was filled with summer birdsong. The lions were huffing, tigers growling, wolves howling, and monkey chatter. It was music to my ears. Strolling the grounds when the animals were all arising from slumber was magical. I loved the way species curled up with one another for safety and warmth. Many even yawned. I made my way to the giraffe barn to check on Daisy. The little sprite had captured a part of my heart.
Natural light from the rising sun poured in from the narrow, giraffe-height windows. I had arrived before the keepers. The entire tower of giraffes was in their stalls, pacing. They were eagerly awaiting their breakfast. Since giraffes only slept an hour or two a day, it had to have been a long night for them. I went in the refrigerator, and withdrew a bucket of carrots. I made my rounds, feeding a few of the sugary snacks to each giraffe. I saved Dante and Zara for last. Dante was at the mesh divider, eying me, as I stood in the hall. I held my nose, as his morning musk was pungent.
      “Hey, big boy,” I greeted, feeding him carrots, which he eagerly snatched with his long tongue.
      The day before, I had been told by the staff that Zara had approached the wall dividing them, and appeared to introduce him to Daisy. Dante did something out of character. He lowered his neck to sniff and touch Daisy through the wire mesh. This was the first time he took an interest in one of his offspring. The lead keeper captured the moment with her camera, and shared it. She titled it, “Falling in love.” I found it poignant.
      After, I climbed the stairs to the mezzanine, where Zara was already at the rail, waiting. Daisy was at her side, a little replica of her mom. 
      "Hey, mamma.” I fed her the carrots. She swung her long neck, looking for more.
      “You have to wait for your keepers, to get your grain,” I explained.
      She tilted her head, as if she understood. I looked down to observe Daisy at her mom’s milk bar. I took out my phone and snapped some pictures. Even giraffe babies grow up too fast.
      As I was getting ready to leave, I was startled when the barn door opened. I saw Noah entering. I backed away toward the stairs, hoping to escape before he could see me.
      “Who’s there?” he called.
       I tiptoed down the stairs. At the bottom, he aimed a flashlight at me.
      “What?” I screamed, the light blinding.
      He flipped off the light. “Oh, it’s you?”
      “And I was just leaving.” I angled around him.
      “Wait,” he said.
      I kept heading toward the door.
      “Wait,” he repeated.
      “Why? It appears that you have nothing to say to me. Go talk to the rest of the staff.”
      I rushed out of the barn, and into the warming air. The scent of grass and manure tickled my nose. Walking down the path toward the administrative offices, I heard footsteps racing behind. I quickened my pace. I did not want to talk to Noah. Not now. Not here. Never. He was going to Africa. Let him go.
      “Tyler,” he called.
      I kept walking.
      He caught up to me. “We need to talk?”
      Really?”
      “Yes.”
      “It seems that you already did your talking … to everyone else. Have a wonderful life in Africa.”
      “I’m not going.”
      I stopped, and turned to face him.
      "I’m not going,” he repeated. 
     "Why not? It’s your dream job. At least you could have told me. I was the last to know. What were you going to do, just hand in your resignation and leave? As a friend, I’d think that you’d be more communicative, and considerate with me.”
     "I needed to think it through. I had mentioned it to Wade, in passing. I didn’t expect him to blab to the staff,” Noah said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his khaki slacks.
      "And not tell me?”
      “I was going to tell you, first.”
      “Right. You didn’t tell me second, or even last.” I pivoted, and continued my walk to the lot.
      “I had to think. I had to determine the course of my future. Should I take my dream job in Africa, or should I stay at Sunrise to be with you?”
      “I spun around, and faced him. “You made a wise choice.”
      He smiled, which I thought was strange.
    “I chose to stay at Sunrise. Falling in love with you offers a far more interesting future, than a wild animal preserve in Kenya,” he said.
      I tilted my head, wondering if I heard him right.
      “I’m falling in love with you Tyler. This is new for me. I’ve never fallen in love with anyone before.”
      “You’re serious?”
      I approached him. He put out his arms, and pulled me into a tight hug. 
      “I love you, Tyler.”
     "I love you,Noah,” I finally admitted it, to him, and to myself. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

    Author

    Welcome to my author's journey ...

    Archives

    No Archives

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly
  • Home
  • Blog
  • Contact
  • Biography
  • Publicity
  • Events
  • Books (Suspense)
  • Books (Contemporary)
  • Books (Paranormal/Time Travel)
  • Books (Science Fiction)
  • Books (Historical)
  • Books (Non-fiction)