Narratively

Narratively

Memoir

My Magical First Job Running Wild in an Indonesian Zoo

As a twelve-year-old trainee I hand-fed hippos, hugged orangutans and was bit by a baby tiger. Now, as an adult, I wonder if kids these days need a little more dangerous freedom.

Kira Jane Buxton
Dec 02, 2016
∙ Paid
Share
Illustration by Vinnie Neuberg

Neighborhood children tumble from the school bus like crayons released from a box, bright and happy. Every day, I time my dog’s walks to the hiss of yellow bus breaks so I can silently shepherd them home. They are not mine, but I worry about them. I worry about their tiny, bubbly bodies. Children don’t always color in the lines and they don’t always stay on the pavement. Speeding cars roar down our street. I tell myself that my presence might be a danger deterrent. But then I remember a treasured part of my own childhood, and wonder if perhaps the children have been entrusted with the walk home for a reason.

Keep reading with a 7-day free trial

Subscribe to Narratively to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.

Already a paid subscriber? Sign in
© 2025 Narratively, Inc.
Privacy ∙ Terms ∙ Collection notice
Start writingGet the app
Substack is the home for great culture