First Mate

I can't believe one flea is missing. Bennett, that's its name. Its partner Monty is upset. How can they breed now? Noah will be furious. As first mate I am responsible. I tried to keep them happy by putting them on Walt, a dachshund, who didn't exactly appreciate it. I think it is hiding on Carl, a wooly manmouth, who sits in a corner and sulks.
A separate problem is the opposite. Somehow three ground sloths sneaked aboard in the torrential rain. I was just trying to keep things moving. The rule states simply two of each. Try to toss a ground sloth overboard. Eventually Noah will want a complete head count, including 800000 species of flying insects. Why are there three ground sloths, Bubba? That's my name.
The birds never shut up, the bears just roll around the deck getting in everyone's way. I'm guessing they squashed at least ten species of bug.
I am going to try to convince Monty, the surviving flea to mate with Grace, a near sighted Praying Mantis. Oswego, her partner, is too busy chatting up a swan. Good luck with that.
Noah is yelling my name. God, is he a pain in the ass. Not You Lord-- Noah.