When Clint, Keith, Mike and I visited Chengdu last May and checked out the Panda Breeding Center, I knew that I had come home to my kind. I could feel the distinctly powerful connection while pressed up against the smudgy glass, watching brown-assed pandas lumber about their terrain, looking for a cozy place to sleep away their 20 hours a day. Once we made eye contact, I knew that they sensed the same thing too, and wanted desperately to reach out and communicate to me.

Now, they are silent no more.

“Cement box…no sky…no friends…hate life…no want this life…for baby.”


Panda Demands Abortion