For two years, I lived at that seedy old place that was part mall, part circus, and all crummy.

But that was nothing compared to Ivan. He spent twenty-seven lousy years there. And our dear friend Stella, an old circus elephant, was stuck there for most of her life, too.

When Stella passed away, it nearly broke Ivan’s heart. I tried like crazy to get him through those dark days. But what really saved him, I think, was Ruby, our baby elephant friend.

Before Stella died, Ivan promised her he’d get Ruby outa that awful place. And to my amazement, he actually pulled it off.

Ivan and Ruby and a bunch of our other pals ended up going to different places, zoos and sanctuaries that knew how to take care of them. They’re with others of their own kind. And they’re loved and well cared for. It’s been over a year now since we all moved, and they seem so much happier.

Me, I lucked out. My girl, Julia, whose dad had worked at the mall, decided her family needed a dog. Who was I to argue? Two square meals, my own bed, all the belly rubs I could beg for. What dog in his right mind would say no to that?

The best part is, we don’t live far from Ivan and Ruby. I get to see ’em all the time.

I’m glad they’re nearby. And I’m thrilled they’ve settled in so well. Really. It’s a solid solution.

But it’s not a perfect one.

tennis ball

The way I understand things, it’s like this. We live on a lonely ball called Earth, and humans have basically been throwing it against the wall for so long that the poor ol’ ball is falling apart.

It’s like me with a tennis ball, chewing away until it’s nothing but pieces of slimy rubber that taste like, well, slimy rubber.

And that means there aren’t as many places left for wild animals.

Seems there are good zoos and bad zoos and good sanctuaries and bad sanctuaries, just like there are good dog families and bad dog families. The good places are trying to keep wild species healthy and safe. They don’t want endangered animals to go away forever.

They also don’t want the Earth to turn into a slimy, dilapidated tennis ball.

Although honestly, slimy rubber doesn’t taste half bad.

You should try it sometime.

The thing is, I would give anything to see my dear pal Ivan deep in the jungles of Africa, where he was born. Or to see Ruby running across the savanna with a herd of elephants, her big ol’ ears flapping in the wind.

I’d give up a mile-high pile of bacon cheeseburgers to see that happen. I really would.

But it ain’t happening. I get that, and so do they.