In the category of monkey love, the story that has rocketed to the front page of every newspaper in creation, I come down solidly on the side of the monkey. Why? Sandy Herold, the owner, knew that her "boo", Travis, had gotten too big for her. She knew it was time, high time, to turn him over to an animal sanctuary. Never mind that she enjoyed taking a bath with him, sleeping with him and enjoying filet mignon with him. He wasn't a human being. He was always an animal with an animal nature.
This love story does not have a happy ending. Travis, the monkey, ripped off Charla Nash's face. Literally. He probably felt threatened. Annoyed. Whatever. He was an animal for God's sake, so maybe he wasn't thinking anything at all. Which is fine. He was never going to ascend the corporate ranks, write a book, fix a tire, or get drunk with the boys. If he dreamt at all, he dreamt about bananas, tall trees, and the call of the wild. When he proceeded to rip off Ms. Nash's face, he was just doing what wild animals do--- reacting instinctively, quickly, with no thought to the consequences.
Now he's dead and Ms. Nash has to have a face transplant. I sympathize with Ms. Herold and the losses she has suffered. But to transform an animal into a lover/husband/friend is sheer folly. I hope she gets a reality show or a deal with Life Time TV for women because she's going to need it. It's a love triangle that only Isaac Asimov could've dreamed up. Imagine the headlines, Sheena Goes Ape over New Love Interest, or Don't Leave Me Hanging or Slipped on a Banana Peel and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt.
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