Wolverine

October 24, 1904: This is my first time writing from my new home, if I can even call it that. If I were to look on the bright side, I guess I could say at least the boring train ride across the country is over, but this isn't much better. I feel as trapped here as I did in the train. The humans say, "He is in his natural environment." Pah! Whose natural environment has fences enclosing them. Fences! And they call this a forrest! A forrest is not just grass, dirt,and logs! It has life! Couldn't they have at least found another wolverine to pair with me with? Now that I think about it, my species has been taking a major beating from the inconsiderate humans. Sure, go on, take our fur. Don't worry about our survival. It would be to simple to let us live. Have they no sense of decency? These zookeepers do not care whether I am actually in my natural environment. They are completely ignorant of the fact that I require a large territory to roam in. They do not understand that I need to hunt for my meat and scavange carcasses, rather than just be handed blocks of frozen meat. There is no fun in that, no adventure. I cannot feel truly alive if I am fenced in and handed my frozen food at regular intervals. I feel this zoo, has drained my confidence, vervor, and thirst for life.

November 1, 1904: Now that I have had a few days to get used to the zoo, I am starting to think differently about it. For one thing, other animals such as the lynx also live in this forest section of the zoo, which is nice. Back in Yellowstone, I used to eat his frozen, dead relatives every now and then, but we are on good terms. I am also starting to get used to being enclosed. Don't get me wrong, I miss the openness of Yellowstone. But I guess my cage is my own little private territory. It's very well protected, I feel very safe, and I am rarely bothered. The humans here don't want to kill me and take my fur to turn in to a coat or cap. Most imporantly, I never have to worry about having enough food (:

Overall, I still am quite lonely though. I miss my fellow wolverines, the wild, the thrill of hunting, and even the thrill of escaping from predators. Here life is too monotenous for a wolverine like me. I miss the smells, sights, and sounds of home. I miss Mt. Washington. Though I am starting to become happier here at The National Zoo, it's still going to take some getting used to.

November 15, 1904: I realized today that I have written much yet about my surroundings outside of my cage. There are certainly many differences between Washington D.C. and Wyoming. For starters, the people here are mighty strange. Back in the West, the people I saw were mostly hunters and travellers. They had maps, guns, boots, cowboy hats, travel journals, animal skins (unfortunately), big buckle belts, and