Aye-aye, captain

In the dimness of the nocturnal house we could see the aye-ayes parading along horizontal branches, making daring leaps from one branch to branch, and pausing so we could drink in the spectacle of their crazy staring eyes, their disheveled fur, and those bizarre hands . . .

(read the whole story by wildlife writer Susan McCarthy at What Shall I Do with These Opposable Thumbs?)

 

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