Last Saturday I went to the zoo with my fiance. We saw orangutans.
And an oryx or two.
(These are not my pictures, by the way.)
When I was a child, my parents took me to the zoo almost every time that we visited a major city. When I grew up, I stopped attending zoos. That lasted until my third year of grad school, when I returned to the Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago to relive the grand experience of being mere inches away from a polar bear.
What makes some people like zoos and others not? Why do some, such as myself, seesaw back and forth between both camps? It is a mystery. One might as well ask how the cheetah got his spots.