Posted in Motorcycles, Monkeys, Mischief, and My Life, Uncategorized

Monkey Mom

My youngest child was a squirrel monkey. Actually, my first, third, and fourth all fell into that category. The human child takes after me; the others all look more like their dad….thinner and furrier. My first baby, Kong King (Kong for short) received a college education. Mom could not leave him unattended as we lived in an apartment, and he would cry all day until I got home from school — or so I thought. He was “ratted out” by the landlady who took me aside and informed me that he would cry until the car was half a block down the street, then bask in the window all day chattering at the squirrels outside. Until he heard the sound of my tires (and, yes, he recognized that sound) and would resume his pitiful abandoned baby charade.

Before we were onto him, he got to spend his days with his leash tethered to a chair leg in the Sociology department where he basked in attention rather than the sun. More to come about Kong and his sibs….