Virtual Quill

It’s awfully quiet here at Beige. This being a university town, summers here are abnormally still. Even with some students attending summer semester it’s nothing like the energy one feels the rest of the year. Temperatures in the upper 90s don’t help, as everything slows down. (Advantage Of Being Nocturnal #583: Sleeping through the hottest part of the day!)
Fenton attends class and does remote maintenance on the Hare Link servers, and I spend my nights at the lab helping on experiments that require 24/7 attention. Married a year, and we’ve already settled into a routine.
True to her word, Cassiopeia has kept the noise down from the bees under her. That’s a huge relief, as we’d have a difficult time getting back to sleep in the daytime heat if the buzzing was constantly waking us. They’re pollinating our flowers and collecting nectar, so everyone’s happy. Tree...tolerates them. I suppose Tree is grateful that they’re taking good care of the maple they inhabit.
So I suppose the big news is that Kell has allowed Coney to attend Predator Camp with Lin Lee. Rudy reports that Coney sees it as a grand adventure, and Kell is climbing the walls with worry. No surprise; Coney has already won the Camp’s highest honor in having the head of her prey placed on a stick at the main clearing. She’s now Lord of the Flies.

Every now and then something happens to remind us that Coney isn’t a baby anymore, but a four-year-old with definite opinions of her own. She’s always been quiet, but at the Happy Little Predator preschool she’s discovering her voice. Her tiger friend Lin may be playing a role in that.
Lin definitely figured in the latest development, when Coney came home demanding that she attend Predator Camp after hearing about it from her friend. Lin will depart next week, and Coney insists on going along. For the first time, Kell doesn’t have a compelling reason to say no.
Poor Kell. I know she hates the idea of sending her littlest one into the woods, no matter how competent the camp counsellors are at protecting their charges and keeping them out of genuinely dangerous situations. The idea is for young carnivores like Coney to learn hunting techniques in a controlled setting that mimicks the Wild without the actual risks. Still, Kell is hesitant.
She’s always feared that Coney, to all outward appearance a cute baby bunny, will let down her guard and be taken as prey. All evidence points to the contrary, but Kell is correct in that it only needs to happen once. So, she’s protective.
We’ll see what happens. I got all this from Rudy, who asked if I’d even gone to Insectivore Camp. I replied that in mid-July, every camp is Insectivore Camp.

Just one more question about Dad’s recall election. Just how much of her CEO salary did Kell use to fund Dad’s winning campaign? Right now no one is talking, and nobody has to until it’s time to pay income taxes.
So with life in Domain resuming what passes for normal in this family, Fenton and I drove up for the Fourth of July celebrations with our families. This involved a great deal of logistics; no, not in traveling, but in researching the projected trajectories of the fireworks. You see, Fenton and I intended to get as close to the explosions as safely possible.
We found a spot 400 feet above ground, and circled as the display began at 9:10 that evening. We made sure to stay far enough away to avoid any air shocks that would disrupt Fenton’s flying ability. Other bats also took in the show, and insects, too. It was so spectacular that no predation took place.
We landed, and removed the ear plugs that protected our hearing.
We stayed a few extra days, and departed for Beige U. on the morning of the last shuttle launch. As a former astronaut that was a highly emotional moment for me.
Note to space: We’ll be back.

The reverberations from the ear placement event continued internationally. (Dad’s recall election was just a local manifestation, and received only cursory mention in the non-rabbit media.) The rest of the world’s species were mainly interested in how it would affect them.
At first there were reports from everywhere that it was happening to the ears of other species, but that turned out to be just individuals who’d woken up after sleeping on their ears wrong. Those reports soon went away, and after it became obvious that the event wasn’t being repeated the media moved on to a story about a stupidly tweeting Congressman.
Among rabbit society, though, the impact will be long-lasted. One thing that grabs their attention is a threat from outside, and it will be very hard for predators like the Krokodile Brothers to pull another scam of this sort. (They’ll have to think of new scams, which I’m sure they’re doing right now.)
Meanwhile, back home Rudy has finally figured out why his garden is the tallest in town: He’s the only non-herbivore gardener, and as a result he’s not sneaking nibbles on the produce. (Still, that doesn’t explain why his seeds sprouted first.)
I’ll close with something I’ve heard via this connection to the human world. In sections of your North America, Fenton’s species is been wiped out by a condition called White Nose Syndrome. Is this true? I’m concerned.