Tag Archives: Fur

Rabbit Rescue

by Richard

Okay, I don’t think I’d call me a hero or anything like that. Although I did save a life.

Maybe something like Good Samaritan. Good Samaritan, who’s hem of his dirty robe you are not fit to even consider thinking about wondering if you should touch.

Or maybe I’m getting grandiose again. I’ll tell the story and let you dudes make the call.

The other day I was working in the driveway of Casa de Dude, which ends in some short grass which runs into a pretty tree-ful and wild backyard. As I’m working, I hear a tinkling coming from behind, but I ignore it. I’m too big to get attacked by the cats living around here.

What I should have realized is that I’m not the only person living around here. The orange cat, Nari (who putatively belongs to Sarcasmo) walked around a corner holding something furry and still in his mouth. At first, I thought it was a chipmunk, but it was too large. Then I thought it was a squirrel, the tail already bitten off and I was ecstatic. I really don’t like squirrels.

As proud of himself as Nari was, there was no way he would let go any opportunity to show off. Which meant his next move was to drop the maybe-tailless squirrel and let me get a good eyeful.

Which was when I realized it was, in fact, a rabbit.

Just about that time, the rabbit realized that Nari had stopped hugging it with his teeth and took off. Unfortunately, it took off into the garage. Nari chased after. And I chased after Nari.

The cat caught that rabbit a couple of times, swatted it left and right, and then let the rabbit keep running. I think Nari was having more fun chasing the rabbit than having already caught it.

Eventually, the rabbit fetched up in an empty shelf of our wall unit, which used to be inside the house, but now serves junk-holding duties out in the garage. I managed to keep Nari out of the way for a bit and grabbed the furry bunny.

It was soooo sooooffffftttttt. It was a pretty bunny, George.

Carrying the very still bunny to the house door, I let Nari inside, quickly closed the door and then speed-walked toward the woods from which the bunny came. Once I was deep enough into the weeds, I stopped struggling to hold the hoppity fellow and let it loose. The brown bunny scampered off in a hurry, leaving me to wonder how it could have been captured by a belled cat if it was that fast.

So there it is. Another life saved. My second rabbit. Hero? Good Samaritan? Schlub?

You dudes make the call.

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Dude Review: The Lost Hero

by Richard

The ancient gods of Western civilization have withdrawn from the world following the epic events detailed in the Camp Half-Blood books, starring Percy Jackson (son of Poseidon), by author Rick Riordan.

Of course, just because the gods say they’ve withdrawn from their interactions with mortals, well, that doesn’t make it true. Knowing those gods as we do, through myth, legend and a great series of books, we can be pretty sure there’s still some godly meddling going on.

And there is.

In The Lost Hero, the first book of a new series called The Heroes of Olympus, we’re introduced to a whole bunch of new main characters, most notably Jason, a half-blood demi-god with little to no memory of his past, a strange tattoo on his arm, and a metaphorical target plastered on his back.

For now, let’s all get down on our knees and thank those self-same gods that Rick Riordan is back with another book set in the same universe as the magnificently wonderful Percy Jackson and the Olympians books. This truly is a cause for celebration. To me, the Percy Jackson books are what Harry Potter would have liked to have been if he had any ambition at all. They’re full of fantastically complex characters, fast plotting, tight action scenes and genuine emotional heft. These are books that all young dudes would love to read or have read to them.

Both my oldest (Sarcasmo) and youngest (Hyper Lad) young dudes loved these books. Zippy the Monkey Boy, who’s of the opinion that a book without pictures is a waste of paper, preferred to read the graphic novel version and leave it at that. His loss.

Anyway. Back to the book.

Riordan takes a bit of a chance with this book, consigning as he does, Percy Jackson to, if not limbo, then at least the literary equivalent thereof. That is, Percy Jackson does NOT star in these books. He’s talked about and missed, but he’s not actually on stage. The main player here is Jason, who’s memory begins on the back of a school bus on his way to a class trip with two people who may or may not be his girlfriend and best friend.

The action here is fast and furious, starting early and pausing only to let the reader catch his breath before barreling headlong into another adventure.

Jason, you see, isn’t like the other children of the gods who inhabit Camp Half Blood. In fact, his appearance at the summer camp for the children of the gods causes quite a bit of consternation among the staff there, and not a little bit of fear. But what is it about Jason’s very existence and attendance at the camp that’s causing this level of panic?

That, dudes, is the question. And it’s got a great answer. (Of course I had it figured out, but, then again, this is written with the younger dudes in mind. The fact that I and most other older dudes can enjoy it is just a happy bit of synchronicity.)

The Lost Hero is a fantastic read. If you’ve got a young dude or dudette who is even the tiniest bit interested in Greek and Roman mythology, likes fantastic adventure and well-developed characters, then you must get this book. Without question, this rates five (5) dudes out of five.

Buy it. Read it. Enjoy it. Then suffer along with me until the next book in the series comes out.

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Easily Amused

by Richard

Here’s a hot flash. A tip from the frontline. Men, it seems, are easily amused. Well, I say it’s men, but for all I know, it could be women as well. Or even just child-like (notice I didn’t say childish) dudes. I know this (for sure, this latest time) because of what happened to me on an early evening drive toward home a couple of nights ago.

I was coming back from a meeting at Zippy the Monkey Boy’s school and had to drive along a dark, winding road that was full of McMansions right up close to the road and smaller houses with practically enormous, wooded lots. It’s a tricky road, so the speed limit’s sort of low.

Anyway, as I was driving along that night I thought I saw something off the road to my right. Instinctively (hey, look it’s a shiny thing. Oooooohhh!), I slowed down and started trying to see what it was. (Maybe I’m easily bored as well?) And I was amply rewarded for my efforts.

There, about a foot away from the side of the road, standing in a shallow swail, was a small fawn. Since I was going so slowly, I touched the brakes and quickly stopped so I could keep looking at the fawn. Now, understand. I know Charlotte, NC, isn’t exactly New York City, but it’s not the uncharted wilds of the Yukon either. I’ve seen deer fleetingly before, darting from one empty lot to another.

But this. . . This was different. The fawn just stayed there. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, dudes. It’s furry, white tail was twitching contentedly as it kept munching on the grass by the road. I’d never been this close to an exceedingly skittish wild animal before.

After a few minutes, another car pulled up behind me. They must have seen the deer because they didn’t honk or anything. They just sat there behind me. Ditto the second car. It was the third car that ruined it for all of us. I’m going to assume the driver didn’t actually see the deer and intentionally frighten it away. But it did. The driver gunned the car’s motor and roared around the three cars stopped in the road. The deer, of course, vanished into the dark woods.

Now, my little dudes love to see animals of all kinds, especially those which live on their own in the wild. So I rushed home and slammed open the door, already spilling my tale of the road-side deer. The little dudes couldn’t have cared less. Apparently, the thrill must be visceral, rather than vicarious. I, though, couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Something as small, as ordinary, as a deer cropping grass along the side of the road had the power to enchant me. Was it seeing the wild nature of the fawn slow long enough to share itself with me? Was it the fact I was surprised to see anything wild in my (sort-of) urban environment? Am I easily distractable? (Oooohh, look. Shiny!) I don’t really know.

All I do know is I was a lucky man, or luckier than normal, for a minute or two.

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