It’s from an unknown origin and has been scampering around the Tampa Bay-St. Petersburg area for several months making surprise visits to pool parties, stealing fruit and causing double takes all over the area.
Captors from the Wildlife Rescue and Rehabilitation have been called out more than 50 times to try to snatch the little guy, but they are no match. He just eludes them. He’s been shot several times with tranquilizers, but he runs away before they take take affect. Presumably, the monkey falls asleep and then when the drugs wear off, he gets up, pulls out the darts and dashes away again.
I don’t know about you, but I’m cheering him on. “Run Monkey, Run!”
The monkey has a Facebook page and someone is even selling t-shirts. The Bellamy brothers have written a song about him and it’s been set to a hilarious You Tube montage.
One columnist has written heroic words of the primate. “It will never accept anything but absolute freedom, and it will always defy those who wish to snatch that freedom away.”
I don’t know about you, but I have monkeys in my life. Those crazy, fun-filled parts of me that people have been trying to put down my whole life. “You laugh too loud,” “You can’t poke fun at them,” “You’re supposed to be serious.” “Fold your hands. Cooperate!” “Life is all about pain – what are you smiling about?”
The men with long nets and tranquilizers have been trying to capture the monkey my whole life. I’m ashamed to say, but I finally let them. Tired of running, I sat down and gave up. I was finally tamed. Now I look longingly out through the bars, wondering about the life that used to be.
But there is a welling in my heart, a bursting in my spirit, an inexplicable emotion that must be expressed. God put it there. He called it “pure” and “inexpressible.” Joy is meant to be freed.
Run monkey run.
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