When I contemplated going to Baraboo for a little R&R, I considered what local attractions I wanted to take in.

Although generally billed as “wonderful family entertainment” and I am a single adult (a senior at that), I was more than curious about Circus World.

I have a strange relationship with the circus. First of all, I am afraid of clowns. Their faces, painted to highlight extreme emotions that belie their condition, are confusing to me. They are the epitome of sadness behind 100-watt smiling faces.

I also have disturbing memories of sitting in a front row at the Chicago Amphitheatre when I was five and witnessing the parade of Ringling Brothers elephants brushing by. God, they were ginormous!

Yet, I try to take in a performance of The Midnight Circus every fall, a troupe of acrobats and novelty acts which perform in tents at various parks throughout the city.

I absolutely love low-tech entertainment! In a world where everyone seems to be connected to their smart phones for streaming distractions. It is so refreshing to see an audience focus on the performer under the spotlight, not the glow of their small screen.

A visit to Circus World is also a fun way to get a history lesson and ponder different questions about human nature.

Circus World features a show under the big top, exhibits of costumes, posters that can be lessons on advertising and endless dioramas depicting the incredible challenge of moving the Greatest Show on Earth from town to town.

Besides acts of grace and daring and ringmasters that command people’s attention amid an abundance of activity, there are wild animals, a sense of controlled danger, and side shows.

Human beings seem to be fascinated by aberrations, lives outside of the norm; woman and men that are taller or fatter or thinner or hairier than most. Labeled as “freaks,” taking in these side shows became a popular part of the extravaganza.

Early circuses featured large animal acts. I thought about this when I visited another TripAdvisor favorite from the area earlier in the day, The Wisconsin Big Cat Rescue and Education Center.

Started by a family from Rock Springs in 2005, the mission of the Big Cat Rescue is to provide a home for big cats that have been abused or neglected, or are simply unwanted. The animals may come from zoos or private homes that couldn’t keep the animal.

The Rescue houses over twenty cats — mostly lions, tigers and leopards. (Oh my.) An official non-profit, they initially tried to raise money for their cause by offering photo ops, the chance to pose with Larry the Lynx or Lucy the Lioness, and realized this was incredibly stressful on the animals.

Declaring “These animals were not put in nature to jump through hoops or perform tricks, or to pose for pictures,” the complex, featuring roomy cages, welcomes tourists and school groups.

After paying a very reasonable entrance fee/donation, visitors are quickly introduced to the rules. No shouting or throwing. No teasing. This last rule surprised me. It seemed like an accommodation born out of respect for the residents.

The lion cubs and tigers of different stripes were safely behind cages. They couldn’t hurt me even if I provoked them. The rule was for their serenity and protection.

I had a friend who liked to invoke an old Polish proverb, “Not my circus. Not my monkeys.” The basic message was about consciously declining to take on someone else’s, often self-inflicted, drama.

I found myself lingering in front of the Siberian tiger and female lion. They demonstrated a sort of playfulness when their handler brought them cardboard boxes to tear apart. Mostly, they stretched out towards the front of their cages and just hung out. They were very “chill.”

The lioness blinked at the small group of people in front of her. We were all amazed by such a majestic creature from Asia or Africa being at home in Central Wisconsin. Totally unfazed in expression, she seemed to be saying, “What are you looking at?”

Maybe, to these animals, the curious beings were on the other side of their cages. It was surprising for me to think of myself as the “circus,” entertaining or even potentially dangerous to them.

Getting a lesson in empathy from a big cat is no small thing.