I read with interest the other day how at the Audubon Zoo in New Orleans a three-year-old jaguar named Valerio broke out of his enclosure--apparently chewing his way through some very heavy gauge steel mesh (tough, formidable animals they are!)--and went on a spree, killing five alpacas, three foxes and emu. A sad and unfortunate incident to be sure, but what got me was that the zoo brought in professional grief counselors for the benefit of the bereft staff. ("Poor Elmira the emu...I just miss her so much. Oh, boo-hoo-hoo!") I suppose all this is of a piece with "safe spaces," "trigger warnings" and whatnot. I come from an era when when people were supposed to get through life's tragedies--great and small--without a need for grief counselors and all that. As in so many ways, that was a better time!