Fistful of Lemurs

I couldn't tell if Monica was falling asleep in the seat next to me or if the Sanford's Brown Lemurs in the back of the van were beginning to wake up. They make a sound that is a cross between a tauntaun and a spy pig. The sound I was hearing was most likely an angry lemur, but since Monica's asthma had been acting up, it could have been her soft girl-snores. I wondered what would happen if a police officer stuck his head into the vehicle, with its weird animals and strung out humans.

Realistically, nothing. We have completely certified this activity with virtually all levels of government, up to and including, I believe, Ban Ki Moon and all the necessary groups of drunk and corrupt old men in Washington. Still, what could happen if we faced that possible problem of Cop Having a Bad Day? It could happen. The CHABD would call the Department of Agriculture to check on our papers. It being the weekend and there being no one home at the FDA, he would loiter, hoping someone returns his calls, and probe the cages with his fingers, as South Carolinian CHABDs are sometimes prone to do to strange objects.

After assessment of his injuries, K-9 units would be called in by the CHABD to sniff the lemurs for drugs. From this point it is a matter of minutes until both directions of I-95 would be shut down by the scruffy scourge of eulemur sanfordi, being chased inexpertly by the CHABD, state troopers and hyperadrenalized German Shepherds.

In reality this would never happen. The GHP trooper would look at the papers, shake his head and go on his way. As it actually happened law enforcement was a non-issue. We picked up LCF's new additions from the Duke University Primate Center and went on our way, our mild speeding unnoticed amid the six lane brouhaha that results from the combination of 568,031 Spring Breakers and the Interstate system.

The only problem was driving fifteen hundred miles in two and a half days in a car half-filled with very primitive primates. Luckily these primates were not advanced enough to fling poo at us, or spit with the unerring accuracy that is the domain of the orangutan. No, the only thing the lemurs could fling at us were their strange cries, a surreal soundtrack passing through tidewater flats of South Carolina and Georgia.

Life is such a small and interesting thing, sometimes.