Once upon a time there was a fellow named Matthew. He was a fine fellow; dashing, cavalier, brave, and true. One day said fellow was at the zoo looking at the tigers, when out of the corner of his eye he noticed the cougar exhibit, some 200 feet away. He saw a father lift his small son above the railing and set him in front of the cage. In one savage motion, the cougar then reached out and knocked the boy to the ground. He grabbed him by the back and pulled him to the cage. The onlookers were paralyzed with fright. But back to the hero of our story. When he saw the boy flung to the ground, said fellow took off running like lightning. From where we stood, it appeared that the cougar had torn a hole in its cage and was dragging the boy inside. The hero's wife watched in horror and awe as her husband ran straight towards the fierce beast. Our hero ran towards the cage, shouting for people to look. Just as he arrived, the father of the child, who appeared to have been in shock, finally reacted*, climbing up and grabbing his son from beneath the cougar's heavy paws. The boy, screaming and bleeding, was carried away by his sobbing mother. Our hero stood by, waiting for his heart to stop rushing, wishing desperately he hadn't been too much of a gentleman to push the boy's father out of the way.
*Had even a second or more passed, I think this boy would have lost an arm. Truly. It was awful. The cougar had him pinned down and had his muzzle through the fence. Or just one more swipe and he could have hit his jugular. As flippantly as I may have ended this, we are incredibly grateful that his father got there when he did. And I truly truly am proud of my husband, who rushed towards danger, not knowing that the fence wasn't broken, ready to go in after the boy. Matthew Matthew, you are something.
Team Davis heads to Yellowstone N.P
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