Entries by Lindesfarne

Poor Rudy. Parasites are a constant presence for those of us with us fur, and it’s impossible to be completely free of them. What’s more, they’re a constant Greek chorus in our lives, endlessly commenting on our actions. It’s a good thing that few individuals take them seriously, as their advice is generally so far off-base as to be in another area code.
Non-furred species like reptiles and amphibians aren’t beset by them, and mammals with little fur are similarly protected. That includes elephants, rhinos, hippos...and humans. Granted, I only have a small sample group of one with Francis, but he does seem to lack a parasite colony. Of course, that’s also due to the excellent hygiene practiced by his mother Danielle.
For the rest of us, we do our best with regular flea dips. In Rudy’s case, his situation reached a tipping point when his parasites actually treated him as a legal residence to be bought and sold (and foreclosed upon). Their latest act of presumption was in hiring moths to devour his wardrobe and them to order clothing using their own atrocious taste.
Rudy ultimately foiled them again...for now. Personally, I think Fiona needs to be more proactive in encouraging Rudy to take better care of himself. As women, that tends to be our job.

It’s with great sadness that we mark the passing of Steve Lops, the legendary head of Carrot Computer. We here at Hare Link have always had a special connection to him and his company, dating back to this meeting. Ever since then we’ve used Carrot Computers for all of our ISP’s technology. (In many cases, of course, we put a PC partition on them since most of the customers who require tech support are PC users. Ahem.)
I won’t add to the already long list of obituaries that have been written in the past week. I just want to say that I hope Carrot continues on the path set by its visionary co-founder. I feel it’s currently in able and capable hands, since its new CEO is a graduate of Beige University.
In the meantime, Kell’s phone got hacked by her competitor Roadkill, Inc. (No, it wasn’t an iPhone!) Fortunately their attempt at turning her staff into roadkill failed, but it was still an unnerving episode. Dad got a new phone for her, and I installed some heavy-duty industrial grade security features.
Stay safe out there, everybody!

Ow. Damn chin-up bar.
In other news, Coney has given to Rudy the portion of the yard she’d been using as a garden under Gran’s tutelage. That had been part of Gran’s futile campaign to turn Coney toward the path of herbivorism, and for a while Coney had gone along just because she likes Gran’s company. Now, however, Rudy really needs that acreage to protect his trademark so Coney was perfectly willing to cede it to her big brother.
If Gran is smart, she’ll go All In in helping Rudy. The two of them, despite their obvious species differences, do have a kind of bond. They both have dystracksia, and they both have athletic talents. (The thinker Howard Gardner of the Multiple Intelligence theory calls it the Bodily-Kinesthetic talent.)
And yes, Mr. Gardner is a herbivore.
I’ve always been puzzled by Gran’s obsession with Coney, anyway. After all, she must know that Coney’s rabbit genes are, well, skin-deep. While her outward appearance is lapine, she has the teeth, digestive system and internal wiring of a wolf. Gran should have realized that by now, but I guess we have our blind spots.
Like, say, judging the proper height of a chin-up bar.

As I write this, Tree and the maple across the street are off on their honeymoon. Okay, they’re still rooted in place like always, but Tree has shut down her cognitive systems and left everything else on automatic. I’m not sure what that means, but somehow it’s tied in to some level of interconnection among the plant kingdom of which we’re not aware.
It all started early in the week when Tree announced that her root system was entangled with the maple’s so extensively that they were permanently bonded. That was her hint to stage a “tree wedding” and we played along.
Cassiopeia co-operated. Weddings among her species aren’t very festive and I could tell she enjoyed being part of the ceremony. We gathered under Tree and read passages from Joyce Kilmer. Fortunately, the Beige University hunting team co-operated by winning their match, and in celebration a crowd of students decorated Tree with toilet paper.
She looked beautiful in white.
Which gets back to the honeymoon. Tree said they’d be “gone” for a week and we must admit that we’re puzzled. There isn’t any kind of pollen exchange going on, and the photosynthesis and sharing of water at the root level go on all the time, so we can’t fathom what is so special. Odd, though...when the wind moves through her branches it sounds like Tree is contentedly sighing.

Once again, Kell surprised everyone. The last thing the feline cabal expected was for Kell to voluntarily resign, and they weren't prepared for it. By "prepared" I mean that they hadn't yet resolved who amongst them would be the one to rise to CEO, and when unexpectedly faced with that decision they turned on each other. No one knows what happened in that conference room, but one guesses that it resembled the final scene of "Reservoir Dogs" but with fangs and claws instead of dog drool.
None of the five felines survived, and Kell elevated their respective subordinates to their positions and placed Frank Mangle in charge of them all. The elimination of those most opposed to her strengthens her position to near unassailability...as long as RL and Angelique are happy with the price of Herd Thinners stock.
One wild card in the conspiracy was Madelaine Purr, who seemed to be part of the cabal until just months ago before dropping out for reasons that haven't been divulged. For some reason she was allowed to back out without consequence, while Frank Mangle endured much retribution for not joining in the first place. So, the book isn't entirely closed on this matter.

The parents went to Dragoncon last weekend, but not in costume. Of course, that didn’t prevent others from assuming they were in disguise anyway.
That fun day was a respite from the gathering storm clouds over Herd Thinners, as the conspiracy of felines against Kell is becoming more brazen. Frank Mangle has resisted joining them, and he’s paid the price for his loyalty. Things are rapidly coming to a head. Kell, who has made a point of reaching out to everybody, is up against an implacable group that cannot be won over through reason or negotiation. I hope she has a strategy; but then, she usually does.
Many people are doing 9/11 tributes today, including this one here. We had one on the first anniversary of those tragic events here.

After the storm passed, Tammy, Ray and Angstrom headed back to the coast on Monday. (Angstrom was disappointed to leave, as he’d been fascinated by the bees across the street.) While their lighthouse was built to withstand a storm as ferocious as Irene, many of their neighbors weren’t so lucky. Rebuilding has already begun.
This was all after Rudy discovered that herbivores actually enjoyed the vegetables he’d grown this summer to repay his debt to the rabbits. While I didn’t get a chance to try one, he’s probably correct in that their “taste” has something to do with having been grown by a wolf. Taste is a very subjective thing and can be influenced by qualities such as notoriety.
That meant some growers slapped Rudy’s name on their produce, and as a canine he was infuriated by such trespassing on his territory. The solution is even more disconcerting for him: He has to trademark his “brand” and then protect it by continuing to garden.
I suggested that he just grow awful-tasting food that no one would want, but he actually has too much personal pride to do that. In truth, I couldn’t either. Maybe my brother and I have more in common than we’ve thought.

We have three visitors staying with us; Tammy, Ray and their son Angstrom. They normally live in a lighthouse on Cape Qualm, but the word came to evacuate when Hurricane Irene came barreling up from the Bahamas. Tammy texted me that they had no place to evacuate to, and I immediately invited them to stay with us for a few days.
They arrived Friday morning, and Fenton and I got them settled in to the guest room. Tammy and Ray shared the bed and Angstrom slept on the futon. Being nocturnal, all five of us went to bed and slept all day until evening.
We kept a close eye on the storm which hit Cape Qualm as a Category 2 but was soon downgraded to a 1. By all indications the lighthouse came through Saturday in good shape but we won’t ready know until they return home on Monday. Meanwhile, we’re still following the storm’s path up the Eastern seaboard.
Little Angstrom is growing up fast. He was fascinated by the bees across the street, and even stayed up a little during the daylight hours to watch them pollinate my flowers. I realized that at the lighthouse he doesn’t have much social contact, which is the whole basis of the bee community.
Next week I’ll give you the details of the aftermath of Rudy’s garden!

Gran and Elanor were under the mistaken assumption that creating their respective family scrapbooks would be easier if they worked together. It became readily apparent that they each have different impressions over what constituted a “scrap.”
The most interesting thing about the afternoon was when Gran was treated to the story of Kell’s first kill; a skunk. It’s been part of our family lore for a while; I got to hear it shortly after Dad and Kell married. It’s usually told in parallel to Dad’s first solo foraging of stinkweed, illustrating how in each case personal pride took precedence over one of the five major senses.
Here at Beige, classes start Monday. The campus is in full swing as the students are undergoing the stress of moving back. It’s when Fenton and I really, really appreciate Tree; we can focus on preparing for our classes without any other hassles.
The lab has opened as well, and this year I have my own office. As usual I’ll handle the nocturnal observations of various experiments going on. I’m taking three courses as I continue my Masters Degree program.
What's been the favorite course that you've taken in college?

Kell’s natural instinct is to choose cooperation over conflict, but there are some felines at Herd Thinners to whom “compromise” is a dirty word. They’re Kell’s sworn enemies, and they’ll do anything they can to bring her down, even if it takes the company down, too.
Dealing with them will be Kell’s biggest challenge. Speaking of challenges, there won’t be an official one since Kell now has allies who have pledged to come to her defense in a direct fight. No, the feline cabal is looking to undermine her behind the scenes.
I hope she has something up her sleeve. Frank Mangle is a feline who is on her side (because she saved his life), but it might be that the conspiracy will target him first. Stay tuned.
Closer to home, an elk used its claws to scrape Tree’s bark. The vandalism turned out to be a QR (Quick Response) code that actually connects to a website.

Coney’s returned from camp, and Dad reports that she’s as happy as he’s ever seen her. Kell’s relieved just to have her back safely, a feeling that I’m sure is shared by Wendell’s mother. Coney is already insisting on returning next summer and it sounds as if Kell has very little say in the matter.
I just realized that by living two hours away I’m missing Coney growing up. I was there as she progressed through infancy and toddlerhood, but now that she’s become a vocal presence in the family I’m not around. Or, has she been able to blossom because I’m not there? I realize that I’ve experienced a lot of drama during that time and I may have overshadowed her.
(Fenton just said there’s no topic I can’t twist around to feel guilty about. True.)
At any rate, Coney has become a loyal, devoted friend, an instinctive protector of those unfairly threatened and still a predator of almost legendary talents. She’s going to have an interesting life.
Meanwhile, here at Beige there are signs of life as the campus slowly stirs in preparation for fall semester. The support staff is arriving, which will be followed by the faculty and finally the students. To you college students, when do your classes start?

It turns out that our cousin Wendell Luckyfoot, who has caused such problems for Rudy during his Easter duties, ran into Coney while running away from the protection offered by the Herbivore Camp. By encountering her first, he truly is living up to his last name.
Hearing stories about Wendell makes me think of Dad. Both are rabbits who seem to lack the fearfulness and caution endemic to the species. The common factor they share, of course, is Dorothy Kindle, a.k.a. Gran.
During my research into Domestication I ascertained that there was only rabbit DNA in Dad’s genetic profile, so that eliminates the possibility that the trait is of a non-rabbit origin. Instead, this appears to be a hereditary personality quirk.
That said, there are big differences between Dad and Wendell. As a child, Dad was never, well...as “in yer face” as Wendell is. If this quirk is hereditary, it’s getting more pronounced with each generation.
It also begs the question, where did Gran get it from? (She’s 100% rabbit as well, BTW.)

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.