Elephants Never Forget

Memory is a funny thing. Sometimes even the most dear moments that you tell yourself you want to treasure always can disappear, buried somewhere underneath the oatmeal you ate for breakfast this morning the TV series you binge-watched on Netflix three weeks ago, and countless conversations that you've had since that moment occurred. There that memory lies for an immeasurable amount of time until it is inexplicably summoned forth by an often unidentifiable trigger, to dominate your thoughts for however long you will indulge it.

I had such an experience a couple of nights ago when I was sitting on my bed doodling in my sketchbook like most nights, thinking of nothing in particular. For whatever reason, my brain decided it was time to remind me of the zoo trips my mom and I used to take somewhat frequently, back when we had membership passes gifted to us for a year or two. I am by far the most enthusiastic zoo-goer in my family due to my lifelong passion for non-human creatures and my obsession with drawing them. My mom was (and is, if we have the opportunity again one day) the perfect zoo companion as she would always let me spend as long as I wanted at an exhibit as I sketched at a glacial speed.

One of our favorite exhibits at the zoo was the then-new Elephant Odyssey enclosure where the public could get closer to the elephants than before, and even watch the elephants get their feet hosed down, only a couple of yards away. This was always a special treat as we got to see the pinky flat underside of the elephant's foot which you wouldn't normally see since elephants seem to have an aversion to doing the can-can for whatever reason. This foot washing ritual usually took place around noon, and even though we had seen it before, we always made it a priority to go back to watch again, and it never got old.
It was this specific moment that came rushing back to me the other night, and I wondered what those elephants were up to these days. In particular, I thought of Cookie and Mary, who were always my two favorites in the exhibit. Mary was easily recognizable as her tail lacked the usual tuft of hair, and if there was another elephant by her side it was probably Cookie since the two were often inseparable. If I recall correctly, Cookie also enjoyed adorning her head with straw, so you can clearly see why I found these two to be the most endearing ones there. I promptly turned to Google to give me a glimpse on how those two gals were doing, and to my surprise I easily found an article that was tagged with Cookie's name.

The blog post was about saying good bye to two beloved elephants, Cha-Cha and Cookie, and went on to talk about how parting with them is like saying good bye to a family member. It was very sweet and touching, but throughout the article I was under the impression that the two had simply been transferred to another park, since they had been originally relocated from the Wild Animal Park back in 2009. It wasn't until the last few paragraphs that I realized that what the author actually meant was that Cookie and Cha-Cha were both euthanized back in January 2012.

Despite the fact that I had not thought about Cookie in probably three years, upon reading those words I broke down and cried. I couldn't believe that the sweet elephant whom I had loved to watch get a "pedicure" was no longer around and had not been for several years. Where was I and how did I not know hear about it when it happened? I asked myself, not entirely sure why I was feeling so entitled to the whereabouts of an elephant. Reading further, the article mentioned that the other elephants were given a chance to say goodbye before the bodies were removed, which of course made me cry even harder since I've always marveled over their capacity to form deep connections with each other.

The part of me that was aware of the fact that I'm an adult sobbing about an elephant that hadn't crossed my mind in several years, when there are plenty of things much more deserving of tears, made me feel rather foolish but nevertheless did nothing to stop the flood of emotion that was pouring down my face. Looking back I realize that while my monthly hormonal dip did magnify my reaction to a degree, I was weeping not only for the loss of a sweet creature whom I truly did love, but for the passing of the beautiful time of my life in which I lived at home with my family, and could see my mom whenever I wanted--back when going on adventures just the two of us was easy, and before she was plagued with the pain that now limits the time we can spend together. I've always been so focused on moving forward, and climbing to the next level that I haven't had much time to look back or to reminisce very much about anything, but every now and then, more so now that I am done with college, it catches up with me. I just pray that my future will be as beautiful and full of love as those years past.

Thank you, Cookie, for reminding me of those special days, and thanks for all of the smiles you gave my family and I. Here's to you!

That same night I drew a little sketch of her since that's my go-to therapy. I drew it with one continuous line without lifting my pen, because life is one continuous line, and she had a nice long one. I also painted her with an assortment of colors because elephants have a deep capacity to experience emotion. I cycled the painting layers in a diminishing order to show the transition from beginning to end.

Below are a few pictures that I took on two different days during the foot washing session, one from 2010 and one from 2011. I can't exactly say which, but one of these elephants is most certainly Cookie because I distinctly remember the keeper calling her by name.