Anyway the sloth has had us talking. Stacey said it was 'graceful' and 'cute'. She wanted to take it down from the tree, give it a hot bath and a then give it a big cuddle. Meanwhile, for me (Will), the sloth poses more questions than answers. It seems to have been asleep for a hefty chunk of the evolutionary process. Why does it move so slowly? Monkeys learnt that if you're nimble on your pins you don't get eaten as much, but sloths missed that lesson. Sloths look awkward in trees. This one looked like a drunk man hugging a lamp post. If it were a human, I would quickly come to conclusion that it obviously smoked a LOT of weed in the sixties.
Is it not embarrassed that in a environment which is full of wonderfully coloured creatures such as toucans and butterflies, it ambles around with moss growing on its back and a serious need for a hair cut?
Enough sloth bashing for now. But I am genuinely worried that Stacey is clearing a little space in her rucksack for the next time we visit the rainforest.