Animal House

TigerBlog killed a squirrel the other day.

No, he didn't throw a rock at it or anything. The squirrel ran across the road, saw another car coming and doubled back right under TB's car.

TB thought he might have missed him, until he heard the little speed bump sound, indicating the end of the road, literally, for the little guy.

In fairness, TB tried to slow down, except there were cars behind him and he didn't want to cause an accident. It was either TB or the squirrel.

Less than half a mile later, TB saw another dead squirrel on the road, and so he began to wonder if there was some weird squirrel cult apocalyptic suicide thing going on in Mercer County. Then he figured that it was probably just bad luck for the two of them.

TB didn't really feel all that bad about being the instrument in the death of the squirrel. Like he said, it was TB or the squirrel.

Still, he had killed an animal. Had he run over a dog or cat, he would have been crushed - maybe not as crushed as the squirrel, of course - for a long time.

TB knows a dog named Shelby, a yellow lab who is 14, moves slow, sheds her skin, appears to be hobbling and has teeth that have rotted in her mouth to the point that her breath is horrific. He has seen pictures of young Shelby, and she looked like such a vibrant pet. Now? Shelby is close to being put to sleep, and mercifully so.

It'll be a humane end for Shelby, who has by all indications lived about as good a life as any dog can hope for and who has apparently been a great companion, a best friend, as dog's are known. She's a pretty dog too, even at 14, except the whole breath part makes it hard to want to get too close to her face.

And yet when TB hears the news, he'll still feel pretty badly about it. Imagine being the instrument of the death of the young pet who happened to run into the road? That would be horrible.

So why didn't he care about the squirrel?

After he left the dead squirrels, TB drove to Princeton, where he saw a bunch of deer running around on the jayvee baseball field. It got him wondering how they got inside the fence in the first place.

Yes, there's an opening, but did all the deer line up to go single file? Or did they hop the fence? That would have been quite a leap on their part.

Let's see. Squirrels. Dogs. Cats. Deer.

What other animal news is there?

In the Ivy League, there are Lions, Tigers and Bears (oh my). And Bulldogs too.

In all, there are four animals, three colors (Crimson, Big Red, Big Green) and one religious movement (Quakers).

In the SEC, there are two Bulldogs (Georgia and Mississippi State), a Tiger (Auburn) and a take off on a color (Crimson Tide).

Did you know that those schools all took their nicknames from Princeton, Yale and Harvard? It's true. When they were first choosing nicknmames, they patterned themselves after the Big Three of the time, the HYP schools.

Princeton actually came pretty close to being the Lions, rather than the Tigers.

If you've been to Princeton's campus, you might have noticed that there are two Lions guarding the front of Nassau Hall, facing Nassau Street. If you go there on a typical nice fall Sunday, you'll see wave after wave of little kids who sit on them while their parents snap pictures.

Those Lions were a gift of the class of 1879, back when the University was just starting to field athletic teams but had not yet had an actual nickname evolve.

According to the Princeton Companion, the building was almost named Belcher Hall after the governor of the colony at the time it was built in 1756. Mr. Belcher instead suggested Nassau Hall, after the King of England at the time, who was from the House of Nassau.

Even though it was more than a century before, it started in motion a series of events that would lead Princeton to become the Tigers, not Lions, something that came to the fore in the 1880s.

This led to the adoption of orange as the primary color of the schools fledgling athletic teams, who presumably did not have an apparel deal with Nike at the time. Orange was chosen in honor of William of Orange of the House of Nassau.

Then, when black stripes were added to the football jerseys, it gave the impression of Tiger stripes. Then, in 1882, a newspaper account of a game said that Princeton had been playing like Tigers or fighting like Tigers or something like that.

Eventually, the nickname stuck. It was helped along, of course, by a bunch of spiriting school songs of the time that all had the word "tigers" in them.

And it explains why there are Lions, not Tigers, outside Nassau Hall.

TigerBlog isn't a huge fan of the "Tiger" logos, rather than the "P" logos, because of the fact that there are so many schools on all levels who have the nickname of "Tigers." The striped P is more easily identifiable with Princeton itself.

TigerBlog does love the orange and black for school colors and the Tiger nickname, even if he doesn't think he looks great in orange.

He loves the simplicity and tradition of both.

And of course so much of his wardrobe these days is tied up in the nickname and the colors, so he better be okay with it.

Go Tigers.

Just rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?