Eudora was worried about her pet Sea Lion. She was worried that he’d been in Portland too long. The first thing she noticed was the flannel he began to wear, a thick button up that smelled strongly of fish. Then she found a ukulele in his pen one day, and logged onto youtube to find that he had become a viral sensation for his cover of Paper Planes. But she only decided to do something when she found him brewing IPAs in the basement.
She came down into the sea lion pen in the basement. “Mr. Sea Lion,” she said (for that was his name), “ I’m direly concerned that you’re forgetting your proper sea lion nature, and in this new hipster identity you could lose yourself.
The sea lion kept his head down.
“Did you hear me?” Eudora asked. She walked over to him and reached down to scratch his chin the way he liked. The sea lion looked at her. Eudora gasped.
The sea lion had waxed his whiskers into a beautiful handlebar mustache. It was too late.
Written on 4/16/16 at Artawake for a woman who had strong opinions on the acceptable names for sea lions.