I fell in to a burnin’ ring of fiber

We entered the room slowly, carefully taking note of its contents. It was easily the largest room on the fifth floor, and even opening the door required a herculean effort on both our parts. As I stepped across the raised threshold, I realized that I could see my breath and felt gooseflesh start to erupt upon my forearms. On one end of the room, the once-pristine white walls carried the subdued red remnants of a life-and-death struggle directly above the half-eaten carcass of a large sea lion. As my scan of the room proceeded, I noted a small swimming pool with an even-smaller ice floe drifting within its confines, bumping up against the porcelain sides. Stepping in front of me, the attendant grabbed my bicep with a very large hand and pointed to the opposite corner of the room. There, with head resting upon front paws, lay a huge white bear. The animal’s eyes carried a sadness I’d never before witnessed.

“This is your new roommate,” he whispered.

I could scarcely find words. “Is—is… is that a polar bear?”

Shaking his head sadly, the attendant cupped his hand over my ear, “Actually, it’s a bi-polar bear… you might want to proceed slowly in your efforts to get to know one another.”