ALL HAIL THE GLOW BUTT

The Department of Unexpected Interspecies Friendship has found living evidence that 2015 truly is the Year of the Goat. Meet Timur, a goat who was intended to be live prey for Amur the Siberian tiger, but instead turned out to be the tiger’s new friend in his habitat at the Primorye Safari Park, located in the forests outside of Vladivostok, Russia.

Amur is accustomed to receiving live prey to hunt in his enclosure, but Timur (who hadn’t been named at that point) had other ideas and instead took over the tiger’s sleeping shelter.

“Nobody taught the goat to be afraid of the tiger. So, Amur decided not to mess with the fearless goat, and didn’t eat it,” the zookeepers wrote on the park’s website. “During the day, Amur and Timur walk together like a pair of good friends. Timur takes Amur for an alpha male, and follows it everywhere. Timur’s fearlessness and caution have led to such a paradoxical result,” they said. According to the zookeepers, Amur doesn’t appear to view Timur as prey. “It understands that it’s not a victim.”

According to park officials the tiger, who has never show aggression to park staff, once hissed at an employee who got too close to his goat friend. Now Amur seems content to eat raw meat while Timur grazes nearby.

OKAY BUT I DONT SEE HOW THATS GONNA 

I found out why after I’d been working there, oh, about a month. My period started suddenly, as it sometimes does, and I asked to excuse myself to go to the ladies’ room. He wanted to know why. I told him.

He started ranting about how lazy women were. How we wasted time. How we were so careless and unhygenic, and that there was no call for that. He finished by telling me that I certainly was NOT going to the ladies’ room and that I was just going to sit there and work. He finished this off with a decisive nod, as if I’d just been told and there could be no possible argument.

“If I don’t go,” I said in an overly patient tone, “the blood is going to soak through my pants, stain my new skirt that I just bought, and possibly get on this chair I’m sitting in. I need something to soak up the blood. That’s why I need to go to the bathroom.”

His face turned oatmeal-gray; an expression of pure horror spread across his face. He leaned forward and whispered, “Wait, you mean that if you don’t go, you’ll just keep on bleeding? I thought that women could turn it off any time that they wanted!”

I thought,  You have got to be kidding.

Several horrified whispers later, I learned that he wasn’t. He actually thought a) that women could shut down the menstrual cycle at will, b) that we essentially picked a week per month to spend more time in the bathroom, i.e. to goof off, and c) that napkins and tampons were sex toys paid for by Health and Human Services. I didn’t know the term then, but he believed that tampons were dildos. Which was why he and a good number of his friends considered them luxuries.

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