Cup of tea, Mr Herriot?
Once again, I am confused.
Now, I know this is pretty much standard operating procedure round these part. Life in general confuses me. But hear me out.
I didn’t arrive at work until this afternoon, which in turn delayed my usual browsing-the-news-while-pretending-to-be-working routine. It wasn’t until nearly lunchtime that I happened across this frankly astonishing story. I just don’t know where to begin.
Let’s try and break this down. Some dolphins (in China) have swallowed some plastic. Attempts to retrieve said plastic using “instruments”* failed, as those pesky dolphins used the old contracting-the-stomach manoeuvre to avoid giving up those delicious plasticky shards. But, you see, the dolphins are their own worst enemies. Shame and remorse have led to depression, and unhappy dolphins make for unhappy visitors. Something has to be done. But what? Experienced, qualified zoo vets are flummoxed. Brows are furrowed, heads are scratched. What to do?
I know! Let’s google “arms longest Asia”! A flurry of keystrokes later and a plan is formulated. 7 foot 8-and-a-bit inch Mongolian herdsman Bao Xishun is, presumably, flown** straight in to resolve the dolphin/foreign object interface situation. In an unrivalled display of modern veterinary technique, towels are carefully applied to the dolphins’ jaws to stop all that bitey/scratchy stuff that always happens (to me, anyway) when going shoulder-deep in aquatic mammals*** and Mr Bao was straight in there. With scant self-regard and selfless bravery, he plunged his arm one after the other into the dolphins’ mouths, wiggled about a bit and then held his glittering prize aloft, a bit like in the final of the Krypton Factor where a social worker from Kettering correctly slotted the last piece into his 3D model of the human genome in the shortest time and got to take home a cut-glass rose bowl with his name scratched into it. Hurray!
What the fuck?
Seriously. What. The. Fuck.
* I bet they never tried the fangufangu nose flute, as beloved by the people of Tonga. Amateurs.
** The story is a little sketchy on the details. Perhaps Mr Bao was just passing by. Maybe he’s on twenty-four-hour call, worldwide, for people who lose stuff and need someone with really long arms to retrieve it. I just don’t know.
*** Shut up.
Now, I know this is pretty much standard operating procedure round these part. Life in general confuses me. But hear me out.
I didn’t arrive at work until this afternoon, which in turn delayed my usual browsing-the-news-while-pretending-to-be-working routine. It wasn’t until nearly lunchtime that I happened across this frankly astonishing story. I just don’t know where to begin.
Let’s try and break this down. Some dolphins (in China) have swallowed some plastic. Attempts to retrieve said plastic using “instruments”* failed, as those pesky dolphins used the old contracting-the-stomach manoeuvre to avoid giving up those delicious plasticky shards. But, you see, the dolphins are their own worst enemies. Shame and remorse have led to depression, and unhappy dolphins make for unhappy visitors. Something has to be done. But what? Experienced, qualified zoo vets are flummoxed. Brows are furrowed, heads are scratched. What to do?
I know! Let’s google “arms longest Asia”! A flurry of keystrokes later and a plan is formulated. 7 foot 8-and-a-bit inch Mongolian herdsman Bao Xishun is, presumably, flown** straight in to resolve the dolphin/foreign object interface situation. In an unrivalled display of modern veterinary technique, towels are carefully applied to the dolphins’ jaws to stop all that bitey/scratchy stuff that always happens (to me, anyway) when going shoulder-deep in aquatic mammals*** and Mr Bao was straight in there. With scant self-regard and selfless bravery, he plunged his arm one after the other into the dolphins’ mouths, wiggled about a bit and then held his glittering prize aloft, a bit like in the final of the Krypton Factor where a social worker from Kettering correctly slotted the last piece into his 3D model of the human genome in the shortest time and got to take home a cut-glass rose bowl with his name scratched into it. Hurray!
What the fuck?
Seriously. What. The. Fuck.
* I bet they never tried the fangufangu nose flute, as beloved by the people of Tonga. Amateurs.
** The story is a little sketchy on the details. Perhaps Mr Bao was just passing by. Maybe he’s on twenty-four-hour call, worldwide, for people who lose stuff and need someone with really long arms to retrieve it. I just don’t know.
*** Shut up.
posted by surly girl at 6:12 pm
10 Comments:
I must have misunderstood. Is the guinness book of records like a directory for people with bizarre problems? turn to the yellow pages at the back for worlds longest arms, biggest eyes, shortest fingets etc?
Do you know whether he would have been able to shake hands with himself had he stuck his other arm up the dolphin's arse?
Do dolphins have arses?
What if the dolphin had been in, say, Tanzania rather than China. Do they have long armed locals on standby?
You see, you give us half the story.
Wouldn't it have been a Sun headline writer's dream if the long-armed herdsman had actually been a policeman.
I'm still freaked out about that story where the pelicans ate the pigeons.
I know it's old news but those pictures were particularly disturbing...
Ok, that's just fucking weird.
Sounds fisky to me :-)
Hm. Creepy. But in a nice, dolphin-saving way.
I remember reading about that story and trying to imagine how freaked out the dolphin must have felt. One massive arm plunging down its gullet...
Hello, by the way!
um, hello!
what a good guy is mr bao.
i particularly liked the fact that he was of normal height until the age of sixteen and then he put on like around three feet. uh, leaving doctors flummoxed. i wonder if they ran tests on his pituatary gland. that's the first thing i, as doctor adam, would have done.
maybe mr bao is an alien.
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