The Dang Ol' Petting Zoo

Behold: The feather-tufted TigerBaby!

Hiya, Friends!  Over the summer, I had the privilege of visiting a petting zoo called Living Treasures in Moraine.  If you didn't get to read my account of my life-changing pilgrimage, you can do so right here.

I had so much fun on my visit to Living Treasures, seeing all the animals and getting to get right up close to lot of them, that I was really inspired. 

Do we have the Cheerio Dispensers and Purell Dispensers all ready?

Another thing that inspired me that day when I visited Living Treasures is that I couldn't help but notice that people buy bags of carrots and other animal treats to give to the animals at Living Treasures.  That got me thinking:

If I had my own petting zoo and also showed up as one of the animals to be petted and loved and fed snacks, why, I could really rake it right in!  See, I could charge admission.  I could charge for the treats.  I'd buy Honey Nut Cheerios and put them in little baggies.  That way, I could avoid having to eat the pasty-tasting regular Cheerios.  You know how much I dislike regular Cheerios, don'tchya, Friends!  And then, also, I could set up a little gift shop for people to exit through, and sell Tshirts with a picture of ME on 'em!  I'd also sell keychains and refrigerator magnets, too.

I even came up with a kind of animal I could be, in my petting zoo: a rare Feather-Tufted TigerBaby.  And to complete the "zooness" of my Petting Zoo, I borrowed Rozzie's XPen.  That way, people would know I'm dangerous enough or prone enough to running off to need to be in an enclosure, but I'm friendly enough to accept the occasional pat on the head and handful of Honey Nut Cheerios.

Bye-bye!  See ya later! Next time, bring money!

You know, I sure loved that enclosure.  I could see out, people coulda seen in, and I felt really safe and secure.  And ready to eat some Cheerios right out of people's hands!

Here's how things really went: Mommy refused to send my radio advertisement to the local radio stations (she's such a killjoy!  Her name oughtta be Joy Killington!), so the only people who showed up were my coworkers.  The Little Giraffes ate up all my Cheerios without paying, Sabretooth patted my head without buying a ticket in to the zoo, Appie the Monkey sort of stole the show, swinging from imaginary trees in the enclosure next door, and nobody bought any of my imaginary Tshirts, keychains, or refrigerator magnets.

I DID notice I ran out of free bumper stickers, though, so there's something to be happy about.

In short, my experience being a feather-tufted tigerbaby in a petting zoo didn't pan out, monetarily, in the way I hoped.  So I'm back to work in the office, and that's okay.

I love ya, Friends!  I'll see ya tomorrow!  Muah!

Never Mind What My Shirt Says: I Don't Have A Problem!

Yes, I like cupcakes.

Friends.  You might notice that my shirt today says "I Live For Cupcakes."  This has gotten the tongues of my detractors wagging like the tail on a German shepherd who's about to get a Greenie Brand Dental Chew at Three O'Clock.

You see, there are those among us who'd say that I have a "problem" with cupcakes.  I can't think or talk about anything else.  If you'll go back and look at my posts on this blog, you'll see that I most certainly CAN and DO talk about things other than cupcakes and how much I love 'em.  Go ahead.  Go back and look at my posts that are not about cupcakes.  I'll wait for ya.

Didja get a few other posts read?  Posts in which I'm NOT talking about cupcakes?  ... Well, good.  To be honest with ya, I'm surprised you're back so soon.  I have a LOT of non-cupcake-related posts I've written.  But I guess if you're a regular follower of my weblog, you'll already know that, and all you needed to do just now is go back and take a quick skim of my posts to see that I have a really valid Point, by golly!

No, I don't have a problem.

I do NOT have a problem with cupcakes.  Sheesh.

You know what I really don't understand, anyways, Big People?  I don't understand why it's considered a "problem," me really liking cupcakes.  Isn't it nice to enjoy things?  Isn't it good to have something one really looks forward to having?

Problem with cupcakes.  Pffft.
You wanna know what I have a real problem with, Friends?  You wanna know what's really got me all in a twist right now?

It's the fact that right at this very moment, here I sit, completely surrounded by no cupcakes at all.  That's right.  If I have any problem at all concerning cupcakes, it's that right now, I don't have one.  and I'd really like one.

If I have a problem with anything, it's not having a cupcake right now!

That doesn't mean I have a PROBLEM!  I don't need counseling.  It just means we've been talkin' about 'em for a few paragraphs now, and so naturally, they're on my mind.

Whatever.  There are worse things I could have a problem with, Friends!  There are worse things than cupcakes!

If people would just mind their own beeswax and not get all excited every time I mention I like cupcakes, or I casually drop a cupcake reference into a conversation, there'd be a lot less unattended beeswax in this world.  That, I know for certain.

Oh, well, Friends.  Thank you kindly for letting your pal Zozie vent on this topic for a spell.  Sometimes, things really get to me, and I've gotta let it out, or I get ugly.  I don't wanna be ugly!

I love ya!  I'll see ya tomorrow!  Muah!

A Honeybee Hive of My Very Own

I love honey by the spoonful!

Hiya, Friends.  Well, I'm sure you remember how it's been a longtime dream of mine to adopt a lobster and name him Lerbert and to keep him in a lobster tank right in my room so we could talk about all kinds of stuff and be best friends.  And you'll also remember how it's been a longtime dream of mine that my Mommy has thwarted, mercilessly, every chance she gets. 

She says I'm allergic to crustacean dander and that having a pet lobster in a tank in my room while I'm sleeping would make it very hard for me to breathe, and I'd always been sneezing and coughing, and I wouldn't get much sleep, which would make me ugly-tempered, and she doesn't want that for me.

 I guess I don't want that for me, either. 

In my free time, I've been searching on the World Wide Web for treatments for this allergy to crustacean dander I have.  I've been combing all kindsa conventional medicine sites, alternative medicine sites, Big Pharma cites.

The funny thing of it is, I haven't been able to find much ... well, anything, if we're being startlingly honest about it, on the subject of crustacean dander allergies.

I bet I could get a beehive and have the bees make honey for me!

Why, it's almost as though such a thing doesn't even exist!

I guess until the Smart People in Labs can figure out a way to treat or cure my crustacean dander allergy problem, I'm gonna have to put adopting Lerbert the Lobster on hold.

I know.  It makes me sad, too, but it's only for a little while, and besides, I've come up with another idea.

You see, I LOVE eating honey off a spoon.  It's one of my favorite things, right up there with my yogurt and my Vitamin C lollipops!  And I recently found out that honey comes from BEES!  And bees live in hives, and people can get hives of bees and keep them, and then the bees make honey and give some to the people!  How about that?!

I decided I'd like to adopt a hive or two of honeybees for my very own.  In honor of this decision, I dressed in yellow and black, to show Mommy just how serious I am about being a beekeeper.  I've now moved "A Hive or Two of Honeybees for my Very Own" up to the toppa my Christmas List. 

Friends, tell my Mommy I want a hive of honeybees for Christmas!

I haven't decided what I'll name my Hive or Two of Honeybees for my Very Own.  I think there'll be too many of them to learn all their names, so I might hafta go with Hive One and Hive Two. 

Ummm, I guess honeybees are a little intimidating, you know, on account of their stingers and stuff, but I'd just earn the honeybees' respect, and they wouldn't sting me.  Eventually, we'd become great friends! 

It's much like that with some Big People, you know, Friends.  They seem kind of intimidating, scary, even, until you take the time to earn their trust and respect, and then you find out they're not so bad.  They're sweet, even.

Just like the honeybees I hope to adopt as my very own.  Just like the honeybees. 

If you see my Mommy between now and Christmas, Friends, please tell her to get me some honeybees.  It's the right thing to do. 

I love ya lots!  Muah!

Grabbing Friday the Thirteenth By the Face!

I was gonna dress up for this Friday the Thirteenth!

Hiya, Friends!  Happy Friday the Thirteenth!

Now, I know a lot of you folks have hangups about Fridays the Thirteenth.  I'm here to tell ya it's gonna be alllllllll riiiiiiiiiiight. 

I feel like we have this discussion every Friday the Thirteenth, Big People!  About how superstitions are kinda silly. 

No, I'm not calling YOU silly.  I'm just sayin' it's silly to be superstitious about a day like Friday the Thirteenth.  We all love Fridays, don't we?  They're the last day of the work or school week.  A lot of times, you get pizza parties or ice cream on Fridays. 

In my house, Daddy's home on Fridays!  I love it when Daddy's home!  We either stay home and have lotsa fun, or we go on adventures!  Fridays are great!

Yeah.  I was gonna wear a head band with glittery antennae, but I don't have one of those.

Then there's all the hullabaloo about the Number Thirteen.  Goodness.  We've been through this before, too, I'm pretty sure. 

Think about it, Friends.  If I were bringing you a boxa donuts, and I asked you how many donuts you'd like me to have Donut Dude put in the boxa donuts I'm bringing you, and I gave ya a choice between twelve donuts and thirteen donuts, you'd probably pick me bringing you the thirteen donuts, wouldn't you?

Of COURSE you would!  It just makes good horse sense! 

Oh, well!  I can still celebrate without fancy headgear!

No, I know horses don't eat donuts, but you know what I mean.  Forget about horses.  They're confusing my main idea here!

What I'm saying, Friends, is instead of being all worried about black cats crossing our paths today (which is actually a very LUCKY thing in my book!) or walking under ladders (a stupid thing to do, not just because of superstition- you could get a bucketa paint dropped on your head!), I say let's celebrate Friday the Thirteenth.  Let's grab Friday the Thirteenth right the heck by the face and say "Hiya again, Old Friend!  Let's whoop it up!"

And then get out the party hats and party blowers and boxa thirteen donuts and whoop it up.  Whoop it the heck up, Friends!

Aww, I love ya, even if you are superstitious, Big People.  I'll always love ya just the same!  Muah!

My Buddy

Heya!  Lookin' for my pal Buddy Cat!

Hiya, Friends.  As you know, I'm an animal lover. I love all kindsa animals, but there are definitely some I really love.  My best pals Rozzie Dog and Buddy-Cat definitely fall into this category.

Or, I suppose since we're talkin' about Buddy Cat today, ...CAT-egory!  See what I did there?  Comedic gold, that is!  Write it down, Friends!  Feel free to use it!  That's fresh funny, if I do say so myself!

Now, Buddy's a really special cat to me.  Some of my earliest memories are hanging out at Gramma's house, you know, sleepin' in the clothes basket on toppa a pillow and blanket, and opening my eyes and seeing a set of big, green cat eyes peering at me through the side of the clothes basket.

Easy there, Sparkplug.  Gramma was right the heck there.  Right beside me.  It isn't like she put me in the clothes basket and wandered off to let the cats babysit me.  Breathe.

Ope!  I see him!  Right there's Buddy Cat!

We good?  Good.  I sure hope so.  I really dislike it when my narrative gets disrupted by someone thinking I've gone and said something scandalous, and then I hafta talk 'em down off'n a ledge.  But I'll take a minute and explain about the clothes basket.

When I was just a few weeks old, Friends, I couldn't sit up!  Heck, I couldn't even roll over or anything on my own.  I was like... well, a little baby.  It was frustrating as all get-out, because I KNEW I was meant to run and jump and play like a regular little kid, but I was just so little.

I loved to go to Gramma's house, even WAAAAAAAY back then, but I didn't like it when she'd put me in my playpen for naps.  And I took a lot of naps.

I guess Gramma didn't like to put me in the playpen for naps, either, because it didn't take her long to come up with a solution that allowed me to be right there beside her on the couch while she sat with me.  She fit a pillow to the bottom of a sturdy clothes basket, covered it with a soft blanket she made me, and I got to lie on toppa all that softness and sleep, or listen to stories, or Dr. Phil. 

I love this cat like a Zoe loves cupcakes!  And this cat!

Dr. Phil is how Buddy Cat and I got to be such good friends, in fact.  One day, when I was about a month old, and I opened up my eyes and saw those big, green cat eyes looking at me, I said 'Oh, hiya, Cat!  Hey, could you get me the remote control?  I wanna watch something besides Dr. Phil!' and Buddy Cat said 'So would I, but I can't pick up the remote and bring it to you.'  I allowed as to how I probably wouldn't know what to do with the remote control if he could carry it to me.

But that afternoon, Buddy Cat and I talked for quite a while about what we'd watch if WE got to pick the channel.  Buddy Cat said he liked watching things with lotsa action, so he could jump at the television set.  I said I was interested in checking out Sesame Street.  Back then, I didn't even know about Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood!

Nowadays, while I don't get to control the remote control, I DO get to say what I wanna watch at Gramma's house.  Buddy Cat and I always pick Daniel Tiger.  We LOVE that show!  I think Buddy Cat might have a little crush on Katerina Kittycat.  That's okay.  I don't tease him about it at all, because Buddy Cat is my friend, Katerina Kittycat is cute, and also because I might have a crush on Prince Wednesday's older brother Prince Tuesday.  And Buddy Cat doesn't tease me about that. 

Also, now that I'm bigger, Buddy Cat and I pretend the clothes basket is a souped up muscle car, and we go on adventures in it!  I drive, and he rides shotgun, and we have a great time! 

I sure do love that Buddy Cat.  I'm sure glad he'll always be My Buddy!

I Came Upon a Cupcake, Dear

Hiya, Friends!  In the spirit of the Season and also the spirit of just loving the dickens out of cupcakes, I penned a Christmas Carol using the tune of "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear."  Of course, you can read it silently in your head (but where's the fun in that?!)  To get the full effect, however, you'll wanna turn your internal speaker up and sing to the toppa your lungs, mmmkay?  Here it goes!

Oh, hiya, Cupcake!

"I Came Upon A Cupcake, Dear"

I CAME UPON A CUPCAKE, DEAR,
That glorious treat I love!
The top was frosted oh so sweet,
Then sprinkled twice from Above!

Va-nil-la ca-yay-yay-yake it was!
Va-ni-i-i-la fro-o-sting, too!
So fluffy, so-oft, a sugary dream!
Wish I coulda shared it with you!

I CAME UPON A CUPCAKE, DEAR!
My favorite snack, don't you see!
There was just one, alas, Dear Friends,
A cupcake that t'was all for meeeeeeeee!

Just puts ya right in the mood for some cupcakes, doesn't it, Friends?  Well, you know, it's Wednesday, so if you wanted to go get a cupcake or two for yourself, maybe a friend at work, too, you probably could.  I know I wouldn't turn down a cupcake one of my co-workers brought.

If you love cupcakes, raise your hand!

... Unless maybe I was diabetic, or had a gluten sensitivity, or an issue with the milk in the frosting.  Then I'd probably hafta turn down the cupcake, but I hope I wouldn't be funny about it.  I also hope my coworker wouldn't be funny about my turning down the cupcake.

To be honest with ya, I don't even really know how one goes about turning down a cupcake.  I've never been involved in such a thing to know the ins and outs of it.  I've never seen anything in any etiquette literature to know how it's done.  I s'pose a simple "It looks lovely, but no thank you!" would suffice.  You wouldn't wanna go into the reasons why you're having to turn down something as lovely as a cupcake, unless the person offering it won't take no for an answer.

Boy, I feel sad, all of a sudden, thinking of anybody out there who'd hafta turn down a cupcake.  I also feel kind of sad for the cupcakes themselves.  They're the silent victims in all this, when you get right down to it, Friends.  They really are.

Should I quit my dayjob and become a song writer, Friends?

So here's the deal: if you've gotta turn down any cupcakes offered to you for any reason, Friends, you can give your cupcakes to me, your good pal Zozie.  It's a huge sacrifice on my part, as you can imagine, but it IS the season of giving, after all.  I'll give your unwanted cupcakes a wonderful home, right in my tummy.  If need be, I'll even go without other kinds of food such as salmon, spinach, broccoli, potatoes, cereal, and bananas, to make sure I have room for all those cupcakes.  I'll take one for our team.  You bet I will.

Mmmmkay, Friends!  Sing my song another time through before you leave, and remember that I just love ya to bunches!  Muah!

When Donuts Come To The Conference Room

Oh hiya, Good-lookin'!  What's a nice donut like you doin' in a conference room like this?

Friends, you hear me talk all the time about donuts in the conference room at my office, but it's occurred to me that you've never been invited along to just such an event.  Now, I know that we're a far-flung flock of friends, and you can't literally come to my conference room and enjoy a donut party with me, but you can be here, and I can be with you, through the magic of the World Wide Web and Digital Photography!

Sometimes you've just gotta grab the donut and take a bite!

So grab a couple-three of your favorite donuts and a hot beverage of your choosing, and come along with me to The Daily Zoe Virtual Donuts in the Conference Room Donut Party!  Hey-hey!


Now, something to keep in mind if you ever DO get to come to The Daily Zoe in person is that we have coworkers from all walks of life here.  Sabretooth is a tiger, after all, and I'm a TigerBaby.  We've learned to love the Little Giraffes and not bite 'em, but when they're standing between us and the Jelly Donuts and Vanilla Creme-filled donuts, things can still get kind of intense.  Also, you never want to find yourself standing between my friend Pinkie the Giraffe and the Bowties.  She will knock you right over.  So just mind where you are in relation to the donuts and the coworkers.

A face-full of frosting is the sign of a happy soul, Friends!

We usually don't need a real tippity-toppity-notch reason to have donuts in the conference room around here.  The donuts can show up before a big presentation to wish everybody involved good luck, or they can show up afterwards, either to congratulate or to say "awwww, you'll get 'em next time!"  Sometimes the donuts show up just 'cause it's a day that ends in -Y, or because morale around the dang ol' office has gotten a little low.

It's a nice thing, really, because you just cannot be sad while you're eating a donut.  You can't.  They're kind of like little sugary, fatty pool floaties that grab onto a bad mood and lift it right up.  That's how I see 'em, anyway.

Little fried miracles, puffed with powdered sugar and filled with jelly or creme.  Mmmmmm!

I hope ya have a great day, Friends!  I love ya!  I love ya lots... even more than donuts!  See ya tomorrow!  Muah!