These are the stages of tiger grief

Kasey Thornton These are the stages of tiger grief

He has strewn the chicken you gave him all over his enclosure without eating a bite of it, a confetti of intestines and feathers. If he acts out, someone will bring her back to him. After all, denial is not a river in Asia, so he’s never seen it. What he has seen are humans crying and carrying his mate away in a blue tarp, her body cold from heart failure. This is the crime of the century, and you are an accomplice. Mourning people are unmanageable enough, so what can you possibly say to the tiger left behind to chuffle at nothing, pacing circles around the place where he last saw her sleeping?