River Song and the Fallen Hero

We all have heroes to whom we identify.  We may share similarities with them. We understand what they went through before they succeeded. They represent us.

But, inevitably, all heroes fall from grace.  We find out that they were really just like us, maybe too much.   

My hero was April, the giraffe.   Like her, I had an unwanted and infamous pregnancy.  I was still at my Florida home. My mom thought I was a perfect specimen and wanted to pass my genes on to a new generation.  I was less than a year old in human years, an unwed teenage mother in dog years. And like April, I hated being pregnant.

Giving birth is a terrible bother. If you haven't done it, then I suggest you don't.   After the kids were born, I ached for a week. Then my mom told me I had to feed them my milk.  Was she crazy? They nearly ripped me apart, and now they wanted to suck me dry? I don't think so.  Let them get powdered milk from Petco like the rest of the kids.

By then, mom decided no more breeding for me. I needed my own home and family. That is how I came to live with my forever parents. It worked out for everyone, except the kids who never call or write.

When I saw April pregnant and alone, my heart went out to her. I knew what it was like to yearn for this alien blood-sucking creature to be out of your body. I was relieved for her when she finally gave birth.

I had not heard much about April recently. I figured she too found a forever home where she could live barefoot and not pregnant.  
Here is a bit of excellent advice.  If you haven't heard anything about your heroes recently, don't Google them. You will be disappointed. Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of me. I typed April, the giraffe into the search engine. What I found out shattered my illusions.

Not only was that not April's lone pregnancy but, she had given birth five times!  I was thinking April was like me, retired, and living happily with her adoptive parents, only to find out she was the local zoo pump.  If there is one thing I hate, it's a giraffe who can't keep her legs crossed. What a slut!

I read that she was finally getting fixed. Sure, why keep the museum open when you've given away all the paintings?  It is good news for all the male giraffes. No longer do they need to fear April checking out her ossicones, declaring "me so horny, " and galloping across the zoo for some strange.

The scuttlebutt at the zoo is that April did not limit her amorous roaming to just the giraffe enclosure. Supposedly,  there is a secret exhibit which house the girmonkey, a monkey with unusually long limbs that end with massive hands and who can hit someone with their poop from 400 feet away; an elagirrafe which is an elephant with a neck so thin and long it can't lift its massive heat off the ground;  and a Puerto Girican which came about when a randy, underpaid, Hispanic zoo employee climbed Mount April, and created a very tall man with a massive wingspan who could lead the island nation to Olympic Gold if he didn't keep tripping over his hooves.

So now I am in the market for a new hero. I like R Kelly's music. Have we heard good things about him?  My paws are crossed.