This Is My Confession

I have a confession to make. It’s been eating me up inside for the past 72 hours and I can’t hide it anymore…

I’ve stolen a dolphin from the Wildlife Conservation Society at the Bronx Zoo and I am sheltering him in my bathtub. I’m also running out of the industrial-sized bag of salt I purchased to keep him comfortable. He was originally established as a freshwater dolphin, but the Bronx Zoo didn’t do their research on the Bay of Bengal, and had absentmindedly placed all of the Irrawaddy dolphins in a large saltwater tank. I’m sure you can imagine this has been quite an adjustment for some of them, so I plan on releasing him into freshwater very soon. I’ve also been feeding it large amounts of squid I bought at Fairway on W 74th street, in case anyone is wondering why their supply of squid has been unusually low this weekend.

I can’t give away the details away of my mastermind operation of removing it from its natural habitat, (which was a shallow tank in the Bronx), but in my mind I was rescuing it from the freshwater lagoons of Southeast Asia. The great thing about having an Irrawaddy dolphin, is that they are closely related to the Killer Whale, so essentially I am housing a relative to Free Willy.

My new little friend, who I am now calling Phil Spector, has a purpose. I am trying to think of more ways to “go green” this summer, while at the same time I really wanted a jet ski. I figured Phil Spector could be my personal jet ski on the Hudson River. We will ride together into the sunset, past people kayaking; creating rainbows and dreams for those watching us across the river in New Jersey.

I’m not sure about how I can transport Phil Spector into the Hudson River without “making a big thing of it,” but I can assure you that the transportation of a kidnapped dolphin is not an easy task. Phil Spector has been a great friend to me. He not only listens to what I have to say, but he communicates, something a lot of friends don’t do these days. Sometimes I get the feeling that Phil Spector is plotting something against me, as dolphins are known to be very intelligent mammals, but then I remind myself if it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have his independence away from the Bronx Zoo. I believe he is sometimes angry with me when he expels large amounts of water all over my bathroom walls, but then I just walk in there and remind him who’s boss. His punishment for mischievous behavior is watching The Cove on repeat while draped in a fishing net, while I eat Mahi Mahi prepared in many different ways in front of him.

He would have been taunted daily by obnoxious visitors this summer, tapping on the glass and referring to him as “Flipper,” which he told me he absolutely hated. Phil Spector needs me, and I him. Together we will have a fabulous summer. Together we will ride. He’s my ride or die dolphin bitch. I will ride him, until he dies…. which will be somewhat soon.

Phil Spector

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