When (and Why) Pandas Attack

The media was quick to pick up the story of Gu Gu the panda this week. After yet another human entered his pen at the Beijing Zoo on Wednesday, the 240-pound panda fought back with big bites to both legs of ill-thinking tourist.

According to the zoo, Zhang Jiao jumped the 5-foot barrier of the panda's outdoor exercise area on Wednesday to retrieve his child's toy which had fallen into the pen. Gu Gu, unhappy at the intrusion, proceeded to maul him and apparently held on to his legs so tightly that zookeepers had to pry them open with tools.

It wasn't the first time Gu Gu attacked. Last year a drunk tourist jumped into the pen and tried to hug him; Gu Gu bit him in the back. And just a few months ago, another person climbed into his exercise area "out of curiosity" and Gugu bit back again.

Authorities say Gu Gu's latest victim is recovering from surgery.

But before all the hands are wrung, let's consider that perhaps Gu Gu is the victim. Imagine you are happily chewing on some bamboo in southwest China, and suddenly you are uplifted to smoggy and crowded Beijing, where tourists continually intrude on your space.

Pandas typically only attack when they feel that they are in harm's way. When someone enters their space, it can be considered a threat to them or their cubs.

Much of the misconceptions people have about pandas comes from the historical depiction of pandas as cuddly pets.

It didn't help that the first panda was brought to the United States was a cub carried in the arms of American socialite Ruth Harkness in 1936. (Can we say Paris Hilton?) Harkness' panda was brought to a Chicago zoo where it died within a year.

Fast forward to panda stuffed animals, pandas as mascots, and a kung-fu panda, and perhaps Gu Gu was simply fighting back the only way he could against a century of panda stereotypes.