Back to the Wildcats

Last September I posted about a trip to see the Scottish Wildcats that one of my regular zoos, Port Lympne Wild Animal Park, had recently added to its collection. The cats were hiding far back in the enclosure, and the overhead walkways that the keepers were planning to get them out into the open had not yet been built.

Today I returned to have another look.

The cats are at the furthest extreme of what is an enormous, very hilly site, and not many people make it there to see them. This has helped them to settle in in peace and quiet.

The walkways have now been built.



Not sure how much use they get, in the daytime at least. But it was a glorious, sunny day, ideal for a snooze in a sunny spot.

Later, I found one (it may have been the same one, but it was too far away to tell) doing what cats do best on a shelf at the back of the enclosure.

They now have a cheetah, which was happily tucking in to fresh rabbit, complete with fur.


The Siberian tigers can relax now that their two daughters have moved to other collections.

It's pretty easy to see that this is the male.

And now my legs are dropping off at the hips.

I was so wrong

Once I had seen Full Metal jacket, I was convinced that the lovely Vincent must be wearing a wig, or at least a toupe.

After all, there was clear evidence that his hair was receding when he was in his 20s. How could he be fully furred now? I've seen this type of baldness in young men before, and it never ends well.



Men end up shaving their heads to disguise the hair loss.



Sometimes they wear stupid, unrealistic wigs and don't think anyone will notice.



But sometimes folks discover that the natural hairline is just fine.

Yes, they may comb it forward a bit.



Mostly they don't.



Why would they need to when his hairline is the same as it was 20 years ago?



And now we often enjoy a little extra on his face, too.



Bald, hairy or anywhere in between, he's our Vincent D'Onofrio, and we love him.

But on balance I'm glad he still has hair.

My Good Name

Nasty Frank Adair. Imagine thinking he could take on our Bobby.


After an exhausting night with Val, Bobby finds he can even sleep on a stone pillow.


Rare butt shot. Quick, sell it on Ebay!








"You really think you can take me on, squirt?"


Bobby's legs are still weak after our horizontal Olympics.





I love it when he plays with his hands.I'd love it even more if he played with me with his hands.



Bobby tries out for the Gurning Championships. *

You call that pulling a face?


Not even close.


Shoulders! Arms! Ooof!





"You really are a little squit, aren't you?"


Can I play, please?

* Pulling funny faces. It's an old country village pastime for blokes with no teeth and features made of rubber. Bobby would be NO good at it.

The Unblinking Eye

I just had this random thought drop into my brain - I wonder if a certain former Mrs (or not) D'O was like the guy in this, expecting her chosen partner to be supportive even to his own detriment. Mmmm...


I'm sorry, but they appear to have given this woman a pair of shoes that look just like my carpet slippers.


They appear to have forced Vincent to sport a really bad dye job in this episode.


"Ew! what have I eaten?"





There's a place on that shoulder that I really want to nibble.


Search me! Search me!





There's that dye job again. You know how it looks when you get the dye on your scalp?


I have better plans for those lovely fingers.








"Have you seen this video of me on Eliza's blog?"


"Jazzy's is even worse."Trust Diane, Tess and me - we don't make raunchy posts.

Not today, anyway.


That is the face of a M.A.N.








Duck, Bobby, the others need the ramp lower.


"There are my Vixens looking fine."





When Bobby smiles, you know it means trouble for someone.


"Eames, please, you're giving me a headache."


"Val kissed me. I'm never going to wash my lips again."


"This is the best day of my life!"

Every day could be full of kisses, sweetheart.