Jim Hopkins: It's a zoo out there Jin

Once upon a time there was a lovely little otter called Jin who lived with lots of other lovely little otters in a great big otter house at the zoo.

All the other otters were very happy. They had nice big rocks to bask on. They had nice big fish to eat. They even had a nice big pool with a heated floor to swim in.

"Gosh, we're soooooo lucky to be here," said all the other otters in a hippitty hoppitty, wippity wapiti, ottery kind of way. "Aren't we, Jin?"

"I suppose so," said Jin, through a family spokesperson.

"But how would we know? We've never frolicked free in the slow-flowing rivers and streams of South America with the rare giant Brazilian otter (Pteronura brasiliensis).

"We've never hongi'd with the hairy-nosed otters of southern Asia or the white-cheeked, white-necked Eurasian otter (Lutra lutra) either.

"Despite the fact we are supposed to be intelligent, friendly and inquisitive, we really know nothing about our semi-aquatic relatives in the weasel family.

"They could weaselly be having more fun than us, don't you think ... ?"

No, the other otters didn't think. They were too busy watching television.

Over the years, they'd grown used to Jin getting her knotters in a nick and just ignored her.

"Ohhhh, dear," sighed Jin as she poured herself a stiff fish and tonic, just for the halibut. "There must be more to life than this."

And there was, boys and girls. There was. One day, Jin was lying, disconsolate by the pool, listening to the maddening chatter around her.

"I voted for Lorraine ... "

"My wife voted for Beatrice ... "

"Didn't Brian look lovely?"

"I thought Nicole married Keith."

Then, just when Jin thought she could bear it no longer and might actually have to go into local government, if only to get paid for being bored rigid, something wonderful happened. Thud. A discarded copy of The New Zealand Harold landed on the rock beside her.

Jin's lithe, slender body, long neck and short legs tingled with excitement as she studied the shocking headline: %YFE* @H%&Kß.

It meant absolutely nothing. It might as well have been an NCEA mark for all the sense Jin made of it. "Still and all", she said, "being an inquisitive and intelligent mammal, I can probably teach myself to read so that an exciting world of wonder and magic will open up to me."

And she did, boys and girls.

Jin the otter, the very clever otter, taught herself to read.

At night, by the flickering light of a candle she'd skilfully fashioned out of keeper fat, she slowly deciphered all those strange symbols and turned them into letters so that an exciting world of wonder and magic opened up to her.

"Auckland ratepayers face 37 per cent rates rise whammy," read Jin.

"We are a city of action that doesn't want to sit around for a number of years," said His Warship the Mayor in the story.

"The waterfront development and Eden Park stadium are a window of opportunity to do something."

Gosh, thought Jin, it must be lovely to be so generous with other people's money. Slightly puzzled by the way these humans behaved, she turned the page.

"Kahui twins' family could be claiming $1395 per week in benefits," was the next headline that caught her eye.

How odd, though Jin. They get all that money and they still can't care for their young. Perhaps us otters should give them some lessons.

Jin remembered other stories she had read in which intelligent people had said how important it was to have a benefit system so that people could build better lives and she wondered how things had gone so wrong.

Perhaps it shows that good intentions don't guarantee good outcomes, she thought, surprised that the only one who'd apparently considered this was an otter.

Maybe the people providing the benefits should care about more than capturing votes, she thought sadly.

With a little otter tear in her little otter eye, Jin wondered if she should stop reading. Everything seemed so depressing.

"I'll try one more," she said, forlornly hoping to find something cheerful.

"Government spending $1.5 million on video 'quit' phones for young smokers."

"I don't believe it!" screamed Jin. "Will they have to pay for them if they don't give up in six months? I don't think so. That's not the way these humans work.

"Gosh," she said, otterly exasperated, "I wish I could get out of here."

Shazammmm! There was a puff of smoke and a mysterious figure appeared before her.

"Who are you?" gasped Jin, staring at the spectre's tall, pointed hat.

"I am the miraculous boy wizard, Harry Otter," said the figure, "and I'm here to grant your wish. One wave of my wand and you'll be free."

"But I'm just a little otter," sobbed Jin. "They'll catch me and make me read Reserve Bank forecasts."

"Fear not," said Harry. "I've put DOC in charge of your capture. So you'll be absolutely safe." His eyes twinkled. "So will our little otters."

And the moral of the story, boys and girls? Simple: The way things are round here we'll need a b %&*y miracle - or a lot of Jin - to stand any chance of living happily otter after.