In 1982, as a senior in high school, I had an opportunity to take part in an internship program at a public aquarium in Connecticut. Part of my responsibilities was the daily feeding of the three species of resident pinnipeds.
Sea lions were about as charming and friendly as they’d be if portrayed in a Disney feature. Fur seals were about as ornery and cuddly as a pack of rabid pit bulls. The harbor seals were a little tougher to pin down as a group since each one had its own distinctive personality ranging from sweet as can be to downright nasty. I’ll never forget one named "Ben" who never forgave me for rescuing some ducklings he was planning on eating. Each day thereafter he would position himself by the exhibit door and try to bite my legs as I fended him off with the fish bucket. This became a daily ritual and he saved all his ire just for me, even when I returned for a visit two years later.
But the star of the seal exhibit that year was a fairly famous harbor seal named Andre. Here’s his story.