Those polar bears I mentioned, the ones who waited for the frozen mackerel I would toss across the moat, tried more than once to kill me. When I would hose down the concrete “den” these polar bears retreated to when the heat or the crowds became too much for them, I would open that steel door and quickly jump back three paces, because more often than not, within a split second, a massive yellow-white paw would slip around from the side, from where the polar bear was hiding, just out of view.

~ excerpted from "A Striped Essay," in Dear Mister Essay Writer Guy