Cape May Diares
25- At the zoo
Although the zoo at Cape May came to state wide attention during the mid-1990s when a fire gutted its reptile house, it remained clouded in mystery to us in the years prior to the disaster – one of those obscure attractions listed in the local guide we did not immediately take seriously.
We thought we would find a handful of under-fed, over-petted and quite ordinary local animals someone had thrown together to take advantage of the tourist trade. A zoo did not seem to fit in with the Victorian theme Cape May was best known for. So when we finally did make the trek backup the Garden State Parkway to the zoo located slightly north of the Cape, we anticipated a display of sandpipers, sea gulls and a few horses thrown in.
With such little expectations, we were thrown off a bit by the request for donations when we got to the gate, forking over what we thought an overgenerous amount the way we might have reluctantly paid a surprisingly costly ticket for a local movie. Even when we pulled the car into the parking lot where the zoo still remained hidden behind a line of trees, we assumed we would find an elaborate petting zoo inside.
Once into the park itself, we found a snowy egret ogling us from a clutch of wetland reeds, its orange bill set an indignant angle the way I had seen turned up noses of the wealthy at eateries up north – the bird passing judgment on us as if thinking us creatures too undeserving to share its dignified company.
This opinion was soon shared by a white owl in a garage-sized cage slightly further in, who glared at us with golden eyes and gave such a sharp war cry we actually cringed. Sharon made an unwise remark about smoking a cigar, which – perhaps coincidentally – drew an even more hostile cry. We moved on.
Farther along, the exhibits seemed to confirm our initial expectations when pens for pigs and other farm animals appeared on either side of us – though to city folk like us, even these seemed exotic
I snapped a picture of a gray hog -- and later brought the photo back as a souvenir to the former mayor of Secaucus, who had grown up on a pig farm and still had fond memories of the experience. I took pictures of chickens and roosters as well, but halted abruptly when we came to the cage that contained several lamas – which gave us clue for the first time that we had stumbled into something far more exotic than we had anticipated. So when we encountered the cages full of chattering monkeys, we began to understand just what a marvelous treasure we had encountered – despite the fact that the monkeys leaped up and down, showing us their teeth, their tongues and – if that didn’t get a rise out of us – their butts.
Our nose to nose encounter with the monkeys -- and the other exotic animals we were to find later along the paths -- forced us to reevaluate our estimation of the zoo and conclude that the place was indeed a legitimate zoo after all, despite its previous lack of notoriety.
So by the time we came to the wooden ramps and saw the woods to either side studded with the squat and squawking feathery shapes of wild turkeys and even more fantastic birds, our expectations changed so that visions of elk, buffalo and lions lounging in nearby fields seemed less strange than when we first arrived. The elk and the buffalo ignored us. The lions yawned at us.
By the time we reached the fields flush with rushing zebras and long-necked giraffes, we could no longer deny the rich resource we had uncovered here. One giraffe took an instant dislike to me, gnawing at its lower lip indignantly as I snapped off a few photographs, then with a snort and a snub, it took off down the field accompanied by its entourage of shorter -- possibly female -- companions. These paused some distance away among the trees to take comfort with a few bites of leaves a Public Service Gas & Electric bucket truck could not have reached easily.
I had visited other zoos previously to this -- with the most stirring being the visit to the Bronx zoo when I was eight years old. But that memory had long faded into a general impression of awe, one that I could not justify with any specific memory other than a brief ride on a pony and the memory of feeding peanuts to a baby elephant.
While the Cape May Zoo could not compare in volume or quantity with the Bronx Zoo, the New Jersey facility supplied us with a remarkable variety of beasts we had not expected to find -- featured varieties that included everything from water fowl to lawn ornaments (pink flamingos). As slow-moving slug-like bristle-furred four-legged beasts crawled through grassy areas to one side of us, bright-feathered, day glow beaked beasts rattled their cages to the other.
Some residents were more active than others. Some species were so outspoken they could easily run for Congress, pleading with us for our vote and our attention as we passed. Several of the money-like creatures imitated Parkway drivers and flooded us with obscene gestures.
The zoo -- we learned later -- actually occupied three different locations and featured more than 150 species of animals including red pandas and capybara, the world's largest rodent. This looked something like a cross between a bull dog and a pig. The aviary was later expanded to include 75 species of amazingly-colored birds.
We were not, of course, totally wrong in our initial expectations. The zoo also boasted of its collection of common New Jersey animals such as red foxes, river otters and -- for those underprivileged suburban children living in environments where all wildlife had been totally outlawed -- the zoo also provided a petting zoo.
Among the big cats in the zoo's cat exhibit, we saw cougars, cheetahs, lions and leopards. Being cat people at heart we were amazed to come upon a small bobcat in one of the more confining cages and found him pawing through the narrow bars at a stone. At first, we suspected him of seeking escape, but soon realized he was playing the way a house cat might, grabbing at the stone only to let it go again. We had the overwhelming urge to pet the creature, fully understanding such an effort would cost us several fingers and require several pints of blood at the local infirmary.
We resisted the urge.