How did it escape my attention that there is a Brooklyn-bred baby kangaroo in the Prospect Park Zoo? Thanks to Gowanus Lounge for alerting us to the naming contest for Pal Joey here; I have submitted "Willink," after the Dutch farmers who owned the land hereabouts. (No word yet on whether the baby, who emerged from Mom's pouch last December, is a boy or girl.) 
On today's visit, the little shaver spent most of its time with its head in the chow bucket; the 'roos here are basically hopping around right in front of you, a few yards behind some light fencing, with only a mutual respect for the social contract keeping them apart from their human observers.
Nearby, the porcupines were splayed in Jabba-the-Hut-like splendor; one companionably scratched the other's back, which is quite a trick if you have quills.
Does this girl look like a bronze statue, or what? Just before we left, it was sea lion feeding time. (If I ever get too old and jaded to love sea lion feeding time, just take me out and tip me over a cliff.)
This shot inspired Child and myself to craft our first contribution to our cheap daily fix of idiotic cuteness, I Can Has Cheezburger. If you haven't had the Cheezburger experience, well...it's, um, funny pictures of cats and walruses and stuff, with babytalk captions in fractured syntax. Like this. Hey, if this week has taught us anything, it has taught us that there are worse ways to get your kicks than "LOLcats"!
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