We entered a back room that had a host of little critters that were used primarily for classroom travel purposes. Some that weren't quite able to join the rest of their kind for public viewing, perhaps due to a medical condition or mild deformity. Noah wasn't a fan of being in closed quarters with most of them. He again was invited to touch or explore some outside of their caged habitats and wanted nothing to do with it close up. His classic gag and I'll vomit on you reflex aimed, primed and exhibited several times. I reassured the zookeepers that this was classic sensory overload signals. She understood and kept her distance still of course offering Luke the opportunity. Yet, Luke still headed Noah's warning like the older brother who could not talk had already spoken words of caution by the use of his gag reflex. Luke remained by Noah's side, as if he were seeking Noah's protection and guidance.
Mountain goats frolicked, the hippo took a leisurely bath, monkeys lovingly grooming each other before bedtime, cheetah's playing in the cool of the day. The animals looked just as relaxed as we felt. As if this was their downtime, their time to enjoy the lack of being on display without countless eyes starring at them. They engaged with Noah through the glass of exhibits like they had been waiting on him all this time to be able to get alone time with him. He made delightful sounds back at them, and they'd paw or follow him with interest. Luke likewise in awe of being able to take the zoo slower. We're so often rushed through something because there are too many people or Noah can't take the time to see something so we move on to the next exhibit. He was also enjoying the incredible luxury of the experience.
Noah's Miracle by Stacy Warden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.