#one was by themselves in a seperate enclosure

[flannelfoxen]

Lupulella mesomelas / Black-Backed Jackals

11/1/23 Wildlife World Zoo

[homeofhousechickens]

Hi i used to keep degu and i would say "no"

They are basically a squirrel that burrows and i really believe that it is very difficult for the average pet owner to care for them.

1- Degu require a diet of mostly hay SUPPLEMENTED with pellets, they cannot have anything with sugar as they are EXTREMELY prone to diabetes. They are still likely to develop diabetes anyway. Its very hard for people to refrain from giving treats to their degus.

2- Despite what people will tell you, degu are not domesticated. They have only been in the pet trade for a very small amount of time and a lot of the ones in america are the inbred descendants of ones used to labs for animal studies on diabetes and other things. Unlike domestic rodents like mice or rats Degu suffer very glaring health consequences from inbreeding such as cancer, root growth, more diabetes, and a condition similar to ocd. Some degu will even pluck themselves bald even if nothing seems to amiss in their environment.

3- Its very easy to mistake your degu for a male or female as Degu have internal testes. This makes neutering or spaying a degu- which is smaller then a rat- much more hard on the degu and much more expensive. Since its hard to tell them a part oops litters happen often and since degu reach sexual maturity pretty quickly it will be hard seperating the males an females.

4- Degu are difficult to contain. They naturally love to burrow, climb and chew. Their chewing talent means they will chew throw plastic cage bottoms with ease. They must be kept in metal cages but even then their bite is strong another to bend the bars. I dont think there is a cage on the market that truelly allows degus to have the space they truely need to burrow and climb. The happiest degus i have seen were ones in large enclosures at zoos where they could burrow and run around freely. They NEED outtime of their cage in a pet home but typical containment that would work for a rat or chinchilla will not work long term as they will chew it or find a way to climb it.

5- Degu are highly intelligent, highly social, highly territorial, and have been taught to use tools in a lab setting. They need a lot of enrichment and new things to climb and chew on. I have seen owners neglect this because they destroy toys so easily even though that is the point of the toys.

To me a degu almost have some of the same care requirements as a parrot, despite what you have read about their longevity degus are plagued with heartbreaking health problems. I thought i was an ethical breeder because i took my goos to the vet, had my non breeding males neutered, gave them plenty of out time and enrichment, had them on the best recommended diet, refused to inbreed, and i still lost them to shitty genetics (root growth and cancer). That longevity you hear so much about applys to wild caught degus not ones in the pet trade and that bit of information should tell you so much.

And like i get it, rats and mice have very short lives and its heartbreaking when they pass but they are still the better pet rodent option as they have lived with us and thrived with us for so many years. Their biology is much more compatible with human care then degus are.

Also from my experience with feeder rats and mice which arent bred that well they still have more bite inhibition then a well raised degu. Below the readmore is just a single bite i took from my friendliest Degu because i tried to seperate her from another female she wanted to fight. Degus teeth are very blunt but they have a ton of jaw power which can cause serious injuries when they bite

All of my birds combined do not compare even closely with how much money, time, and effort my Degus needed to be happy. I dont think they are a good house pet. Oh also if you handle them wrong they deglove their tail and the shock of that can outright kill them. I never had it happen to my degu but it is a common occurrence.

This is a fresh bite, notice the bruising already forming. I wish i took a picture of the healing process because it turned purple, swollen an awful. That never happened to me with a rat bite.

Might be a stupid question, and I know this isn't a rodent blog, but do you know anything about whether degu make ethical pets? I saw them mentioned as a longer-living alternative to rats but their fennec-fox tier exotic status is a red flag to me. I couldn't actually find any clear problems with them in captivity, though, hence my asking.

I’m going to be honest, if you’re considering a degu you should just get some gerbils. They’re just an easier version of the same animal to keep happy in captivity.

[delimeful]

not always what they seem (2)

warnings: inappropriate jokes, remus being remus, mild panic attack, fear, miscommunication

long overdue commission for @legendsgates​! thank you for your patience and support 💚

Chapter 1

-

Janus watched the giant creatures around them devolve into more of that buzzing, clicking language as Remus waved his arm around enthusiastically in response to them.

“What are you-- Stop that,” the emo kid hissed, his whole body going tense, and Janus leaned back slightly just in time to avoid getting caught in the half-tackle that Remus was subjected to. “What if they just asked who wants to be first to be dissected, huh?”

“Oooh, kinky,” Remus cackled from where the kid had pinned his wrists to the floor. “Do you think they’ll probe me first?”

Janus rolled his eyes, and then stiffened as a shadow fell over them. “Kid—!”

He could see the moment the red alien’s hand made contact, the kid’s face immediately draining of all color as those strange talons wrapped around him and started to lift.

Almost instantly, Remus surged to his feet, grabbing the kid’s arm before he could be lifted out of range. The hold was so tight it almost looked painful, but the kid clung back desperately. He looked smaller than ever without the bulky hoodie around him, his frame barely concealed by a worn, slightly oversized band shirt.

Remus’s face twisted into a snarl. “Hey, hands to yourself, you shitty Mothra rip-off!”

Janus quickly rose to his feet as well, looking up past the kid’s terrified gaze to see the alien had paused, it’s strange antenna protrusions twitching. The facial features didn’t give him much to work with, so he attempted to see what the creature was seeing, contextless: the kid tackling Remus for big showy arm movements, Remus coming after him. Was it trying to seperate them like a pet owner with a pair of squabbling dogs?

He shifted forwards, setting a hand on Remus’ shoulder and expertly drawing all attention to himself. Remus glanced at him and then reluctantly cut off his litany of extremely descriptive curses, though his grip on the kid didn’t falter. Janus tilted his head back to carefully lock eyes with the alien.

“No. Stop,” he spoke with a stern emphasis. “Put him down.”

He reached up to grab the kid’s arm as well, tugging lightly, and then repeated himself slowly.

“Double D, buddy, I’d bet all three of my balls that they don’t understand English,” Remus said, “no matter how slow you say it.”

Janus didn’t break eye contact with the giant, moving to point at the kid and then the floor of their enclosure emphatically. “That doesn’t mean we can’t communicate with them.”

At the perfect moment to dramatically accentuate his point, the alien seemed to concede, lowering the kid down until his feet were touching the floor. The guy tore out of the oversized grip as soon as it loosened, nearly tumbling head over heels. Janus caught him by the arm, and Remus took the opportunity to jump forwards and click his teeth menacingly at the giant hand. The alien recoiled immediately, looking much like an elephant shying away from a mouse.

“I volunteer to get probed and this is how you fucks repay me? Just grabbing kids all willy-nilly? Have some respect!”

The kid muttered something, half-lost under his panicked breaths, and Remus turned to look at him. “What was that, short stack?”

“Virgil,” he repeated irritably. “It’s Virgil, not ‘kid’, definitely not ‘short stack’. I’m twenty years old, for fuck’s sake.”

Janus and Remus shared a glance over the newly-named Virgil’s head, and that was enough to set the man off into another fit of cackling laughter.

---

Roman watched, enthralled, as the little creature bedecked in green threw its head back and made a hair-raising clamor.

Intriguingly enough, the other two didn’t seem to react too strongly to such a loud outburst. The yellow one turned its face to the side as its tiny features pinched into an expression that Roman couldn’t quite decode, and the shaky purple one’s pale face seemed to shift color as it made an emphatic hand gesture of some sort. Patton would be taking plenty of notes later.

The motions, the expressions, they were all intentional and full of meaning, just like the pointing and sounds Yellow had made when Roman had tried to separate Purple from the group. He still didn’t quite grasp why the other specimens had responded so strongly; Purple had clearly been attacking, though thankfully no serious harm had occurred thanks to Roman swiftly jumping into action.

“This is incredible,” Logan murmured from beside him, and Roman couldn’t help but agree.

“There’s so much to analyze here,” he mumbled. “Any small animal would flee from a predator’s grasp, but they recognized that we’re sapient, and Yellow even approached instead to mediate!”

“Yellow?” Patton asked, a bit of teasing in his voice. “I thought your nicknames were always a bit wordier?”

“I can’t properly nickname someone unless I have their self-presentation and personality, Pat!” Roman defended. “It’s more of a… designation. After all, I can’t very well ask their names, can I?”

“I mean, we could certainly try!” Patton suggested with an optimistic lilt to his voice. “I’m not a linguist for nothing, y’know!”

“It might take some time to communicate intent, so I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Patton.” Logan’s ears flicked at the pleading look the Nihl sent him. “Still, I’ll admit there’s… no harm in a first attempt.”

Roman unsubtly chittered a laugh at his coworker’s expense, and Patton brightened immediately.

“Glad that you agree it’s… wordth a try!”

---

Janus was drawn away from the amusing argument going on between his fellow captives (the topic being how old one had to be to be an actual ‘for-realsies’ adult, federal law be damned) by two of the aliens simultaneously making odd, dragged out noises almost like stuttering groans.

“They sound like fucking zombies,” Virgil muttered from where he’d appeared at Janus’s shoulder. He’d snapped back to watching the three with blatant paranoia the moment they were loud enough to catch his notice.

The kid wasn’t subtle at all, but it wasn’t like he was wrong to be on guard. They were still abducted, regardless of how fantastical or impossible their captors seemed. Seeing how significant the size difference was, they’d have to work on escaping through… more cunning means.

Janus carefully held his position as the three giants crowded around the enclosure again, ignoring the way Virgil reached out to grip the back of his hoodie, either for comfort or in preparation to pull Janus from danger. This time, the three chattered amongst themselves for a long moment before going quiet and turning to the multiple-armed one.

Automatically, the humans mirrored the gesture, and the recipient of their attention met their gazes carefully one by one before placing a rigid, vertical hand under their chin and holding it there.

“Patton,” the alien said, slow and clear. It looked at them expectantly, and then repeated the phrase. “Patton.”

It was definitely some kind of word, that was clear enough. When not caught up in the rapid-fire chittering nature of the alien language, it was much easier to decipher.

“Patton?” Virgil muttered, and then squeaked when the alien stared at him with sudden intensity, hands flicking up and down erratically. Except for, Janus noted, the one still under its chin.

“Patton,” it said again, and then lowered the hand. Next to it, the insect-like one put a much bonier hand under its own angular chin.

“Roman,” it said, with a few subtle clicks that probably couldn’t be replicated by human mouths. Janus nodded, the pieces clicking into place. “Roman.”

Sure enough, next to make the hand gesture was the last alien, who introduced itself with a note of rippling bass overlapping with something like Logan. It was probably a bit mangled as he echoed it back, but different vocal chords made things difficult.

“You communing with them, Dee?” Remus asked from where he was crowding over his other shoulder. “That’s no sign language I’ve ever used. You speak alien and you’re not even going to share with the class?”

Janus elbowed him off, and then stepped forwards, and placed his own hand under his chin vertically, studying the ripple of reaction that got from the aliens.

“Dee,” he said, choosing to use his nickname as he had with the other humans.

The aliens immediately dissolved into excited chattering, which Janus patiently waited out. His fellow earthlings were similarly surprised.

“Wait, they’re doing introductions right now?” Virgil’s head whipped back and forth rapidly. Remus was gleefully attempting to mimic the weird, echoey quality of the voice of ‘Logan’ and getting concerningly close.

The one with all the arms-- Patton, it was Patton, he needed to remember if he wanted to make any progress at all here-- let out a string of syllables, slowed down but still nonsensical to them, and reached out.

Virgil jumped back and Remus started forwards, but Janus cut off all movement with a quickly snapped “Stop!”

Including the alien’s motion. He resisted the urge to smile at the success, instead looking up at Patton and tilting his head slightly. “What is it?”

Patton didn’t understand his words, but the questioning tone seemed to carry over, and after a beat, they moved their hand forward again just slightly before pausing, as though asking permission.

Janus weighed his options for a moment, before stepping forward. Virgil, who was still latched onto the back of him, came along with only a single sound of half-panicked protest. Patton correctly assumed that this was Janus giving his assent, and moved their hand closer, much slower this time.

With delicate, careful motions, they pushed Janus’s left hand out from under his chin, and then carefully curled a finger around his right arm, tugging that one up instead. Janus realized his mistake after a moment, and placed the right hand under his chin instead. Patton withdrew with a bright hum.

“What is happening,” Virgil hissed, and Janus glanced over his shoulder at him. The color had drained from his face, and his hand was white-knuckled where it was holding onto Janus’s borrowed outfit.

“I was mirroring their… introductory gesture, I suppose, and it seems that the meaning changes if I don’t use the correct hand. In this case, my right one,” he explained. “They’re going to want to know your name. Do you want me to assist?”    

Before he could answer, Remus was bouncing forwards, placing a hand under his own chin to gain the aliens’ attention.

“Call me I-Am-A-Buttface,” he half-shouted, grinning wildly.

---

“Did… did anyone else catch that one’s name?”

Roman watched as ‘D’ reached over and tugged the other tiny alien back by the collar roughly before they could speak again, astonished by how the other only let out what might be a cackle at the rough handling.

Not more astonished than he’d been by the alien catching on so quickly, though. Logan had been rendered completely speechless for a record amount of time, and Patton was still happily waving his hands back and forth at the success.

D visibly let out a long breath, and turned back to them, placing the correct hand under their chin this time. “D,” they repeated, and then switched things up.

They pulled the rambunctious one closer and placed their hand under that one’s chin, too. “Remus.”

“Are they-- introducing the other one as well?” Roman asked, and none of them could answer. ‘Remus’ didn’t seem to object, though they continued to speak in that rounded language. “That’s certainly a bit... unorthodox.”

D looked over at the only unnamed alien, the angry one that was standing at D’s shoulder, and after a moment, they jerked their head strangely. D seemed to understand, and held a hand palm-up in that one’s direction.

The unnamed alien put their hand in the proper introductory position, and had a few false starts before finally getting their name out. “Virgil.”

“Virgil,” Patton echoed excitedly. “That’s Virgil! Virgil, D, and Remus!”  

“Stars above,” Logan said faintly, “they really are just people but smaller.”

Roman couldn’t help but agree with the astounded sentiment. It hadn’t really sunk in before, but knowing the personal names of individual members of the unfamiliar species… “This could have been a disaster. Why were they labeled as primitive? Did the recorders even actually observe the planet they’re from? This seems a little hard to miss!”

“Easy, Roman,” Patton reached over to run a couple of gentle hands over his agitated wings. “You’re scaring the little guys.”

Sure enough, when he looked over, he could see all three of the tiny aliens were staring at him. He clicked an apology, and then echoed it in Common. “My apologies, small friends.”

“I agree with you, though… We can’t treat them as anything less, not like the tests would have us do. I’m not sure what our next step should be,” Patton admitted, and they turned as one to look at Logan. The Glanrim had a recognizably enthusiastic glint to his eyes.

“We’ll have to present our case to the Council. If we want them to believe us, we’ll need sufficient evidence that our specimens are sentient, sapient, and deserving of the standard rights,” he told them, tail swishing. “Our next step is to obtain that proof, through whatever means we can.”

Roman and Patton shared a glance before nodding in agreement. They turned towards the aliens with determination, and then stopped completely short.

“We’re… going to have to find some method of communicating our intentions,” Logan said, tapping his fingers on his shoulder in thought. “I believe the lack of such communication is what caused Virgil to behave so timidly in the first place.”

“Yeah, just reaching in and grabbing them probably isn’t a good idea,” Roman admitted. “What’s the plan, then?”

“Well, this can be a test in itself. Assuming that they can discuss amongst themselves what tests each of us did on the first run-through…”

---

Janus stared blankly at the three hands that had been set down along the floor of their enclosure, palms-up, each corresponding to one of the aliens. He turned to look at Virgil and Remus, just to ascertain that he was seeing the same thing they were.

Remus tilted his head to a painful-looking angle, and then nodded to himself. “It’s just like those choose-your-own-adventure books, except with huge aliens that we don’t know the intentions of! Fun!”  

“Oh, so they’re insane? They’re out of their skulls?” Virgil asked, his voice upping an octave in disbelief. “They really think we’re going to just literally put our lives in their hands, after they abducted and tormented us?”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to have to do,” Janus muttered, and held his hands up when Virgil turned to him with a glare. “Just listen for a moment. What are they doing right now?”

“Trying to trick us,” Virgil shot back immediately.

“Getting handsy!” Remus offered.

Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. “No and definitely no. They’re offering us a choice,” he clarified, “because we’ve done something to shift their opinions of us.”

“Some choice,” Virgil muttered. Janus pointed at him, making him jerk back slightly.

“Exactly. What do you think they’re going to do if we refuse to engage with them at all?”

“... Grab us anyways?”

Janus nodded, casting another look over at the waiting aliens. “If that happens, we’ve relinquished any and all control over the situation, no matter how small. Instead, we need to take advantage of this while we can. We’ll be putting our lives in their hands regardless, so it’s best to act strategically here.”

“Well, I know what I want.” Remus sidled a step away from them and towards the aliens. “Dibs on the hot one.”

“The what one?” Virgil gaped, and Remus ignored him in favor of getting a running start and then throwing himself directly onto Logan’s hand. Unsurprisingly, Logan seemed unsure how to react to a human sprawling over him like Rose from Titanic. Janus was too professional to slap a hand onto his forehead, but the urge was there. He grabbed Virgil’s shoulder when the kid started towards them.

“Forget it. He’s made his choice, and he doesn’t seem like the type to be swayed by common sense,” Janus said, rolling eyes and choosing very emphatically to not question his fellow human’s apparent qualifiers for someone being considered ‘hot’. “You need to make a decision of your own.”

Virgil shook him off, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “This is crazy. All of it. Forever. You know that, right?”

“I’m aware,” Janus replied, voice dry. Virgil shot him another look, and then seemed to actually consider the options, though grumpily. With his shoulders still up around his ears, he looked vaguely like a very angry turtle. Janus kept this observation to himself.

“Remus called the one with all the arms-- uh, Patton? He called them boring and said all they did was talk at him,” he finally offered, glancing over at the alien.

Janus nodded, keeping his own feelings on the matter off his face. “You want that one, then?”

“What?” Virgil looked at him, confused. “No, I mean you should go with them. You’ll probably have an easier time figuring out what they want from Patton.”

Janus paused, thrown off. “Hold on, that-- that leaves you with Roman. I… don’t think you’ll have the best time, considering.”

“And you will?” Virgil took Janus’s silence as the admittance it was, and nodded to himself. “I can do it. I’m tougher than you think. And anyways, if I let you go with him, he’d probably try to swipe my hoodie. Not happening.”

Janus huffed with exasperation, and Virgil gave him the closest expression he’d gotten to a smile yet before shoving his shoulder slightly and stomping up to Roman’s hand. The alien looked just as unhappy as Virgil about the decision.

---

“Well, that was an… interesting selection process,” Logan said, lifting up his hand slightly and finding that Remus seemed content to be toted around.

It was more than he could say about his own matchup. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” he grumbled as ‘Virgil’ continued to stand there, tiny arms bundled around themself, tiny eyes staring up at Roman aggressively.

The little creature didn’t seem intent on even touching Roman, let alone actually being picked up and taken anywhere. Roman looked over to where D was seating themself on the edge of Patton’s hand like a king upon their throne, and then back to Virgil, who didn’t move.

Maybe they expected Roman to do all the heavy lifting? He carefully lifted his hand, curling it around Virgil’s tiny frame, and received a vicious hiss for his efforts. He recoiled, antennae flattening. He hadn’t even known these creatures could hiss!

“You alright, kiddo?” Patton appeared next to him, one hand hovering as a safety net for D. Roman pasted on a smile immediately.

“Of course! Just working out methods of transport with… Virgil. They seem a bit less charismatic than D when it comes to conveying intent, unfortunately.” The tiny creature continued to stare at him, gaze only dipping away to meet D’s briefly.

Patton studied Virgil for a moment, gaze moving between their hunched form and Roman’s fidgeting hands. “They might be a little touch shy. The transport containers are still usable, if you need them!”

“Ah, that’s right! Patton, you’re a genius.” Roman exchanged good luck hums with the Nihl and waited until he departed to grab the transport container and present it to Virgil. “Is this what you want to use, you picky creature?”  

As though to spite him, Virgil’s skin shifted to a paler shade, and they went so far as to step back slightly. Roman allowed himself a few frustrated clickswears, and then stopped as he noticed the creature stumble slightly.

“Virgil…?” he attempted the alien’s name, but there was no response beyond their rapid air intake increasing. They didn’t look so good.

Feeling oddly off-balance, he quickly stowed the transport container away, and kept his hands out of sight to give the poor guy some more space. “Easy, easy. Please for the love of all that is good, don’t die of shock on me.”

Virgil didn’t seem to improve at first, but after a moment, they started muttering to themself, and slowly but surely, began to return to baseline. Roman felt as though years had been taken off his lifespan.

“Alright, if you feel so strongly about it, there’s no reason I can’t improvise and simply work from here,” he rambled, moving a seat and a tray of tools to the side of the wide-low enclosure. “Logan wasn’t kidding when he called you easily startled, was he?”

Virgil eyed the tray with wide eyes, and when Roman picked up the thermometer, they skittered back out of easy reach, arms lifted in what must have been a defensive gesture. Like a frightened Arkbit, but less fluffy, and Roman had to actually try to coax them over rather than just holding them still for the process.

“It’s just a thermometer! It won’t prick you or anything, on my honor,” Roman swore, and when that didn’t do the trick, he used the device on himself instead. “See, I just place it against my skin for a few moments, and… there! A perfectly healthy me!”

He extended the sensor end of the thermometer in Virgil’s direction, but didn’t advance. “C’mon, just give it a shot. We’re going to need your baseline in case you get sick, and it’ll make it easier to get the others’ temps if you can tell them I’m not going to electrocute them or anything.”

Virgil dithered for a long moment, but Roman’s patience was rewarded when the alien finally stalked closer and smacked his hand against the sensor like a challenge. Luckily, it was precise enough to work accurately even with such a small specimen, and soon enough Roman has a temperature.

“Huh… you’re warmer than me and Patton, that’s for sure,” Roman mumbled. “Logan probably already has all sorts of classification theories about you guys, but I think it’s at least safe to say you’re mammalian.”

Virgil tilted their head slightly at him, and Roman shook his head. “We’ll have more to talk about once we actually manage to make a breakthrough on language. For now,” he held up a small scale, normally used for weighing precise chemical measurements, “back to the boring stuff!”

The tiny alien made a strange drawn out noise, and placed their hands over their face, but they didn’t get all tense and breathy again, and that was progress in Roman’s book.

So long as they kept making progress, things would probably turn out okay.

[tetedurfarm]

squishysophiea replied to your post “squishysophiea replied to your photo “a sausage and her...”

@rusasi-ma never said they weren't a good food source. And thank you for the wire lesson, much appreciated. Would you not consider having them in a wide pen (seperating boys from girls until you wish to breed) so they can roam a bit more freely? Although that would take up more space you might benefit from it. Like a free range chicken situation

@squishysophiea

okay, look.  you’re actually being somewhat reasonable so i’m going to put on my educator hat.  you clearly have no idea what you’re talking about, but most people wouldn’t have actually accepted the lesson on flooring like you did.  so i’ll meet you halfway.

the photos of my animals rarely show the full scope of their housing, because the focus is on the rabbits themselves.  their cages are larger than they appear - WELL over the minimum cage size mandated by the american rabbit breeder’s association.  they have toys and enrichment.  there are larger pens for growouts, and these are group pens where they get to be social until their trip to freezer camp.  when i’m able to, they get several hours a week in a ground pen to run around and eat grass and dig holes.  they live comfortable lives.  they may be bred and eaten, but all a rabbit really desires is a safe place to sleep, as much feed as they can eat, and a litter every now and then.  i used to have a house rabbit, who had free run of the bedroom.  he would run around for a moment, then sit in a corner or in his cage for the rest of the day.  rabbits like small spaces.  they feel secure in small spaces.  in the wild they live in warrens and only leave them to eat.  open spaces mean danger.  open spaces mean predators.  a cage big enough to fully stretch out and binkie in is exactly what a rabbit seems to want.  every time i’ve given bigger enclosures, they choose a corner and never move.  why would i waste my space and money?

it is not safe for adult rabbits to live in group housing except in very very specific situations.  adults of both sexes are extremely territorial and will fight and kill one another.  there is a rule in breeding that you never bring a buck to a doe’s cage because she can and will castrate him for being in her space.  have you seen zootopia?  when they said that line “bunnies can’t go savage”, my housemate and i laughed.  rabbits are often savage.  does who get along may kill each others’ kits.  they may snap one day and kill one another after years of cohabitation.  bucks, like intact males of most species, are famous for mutilating one another the second they hit puberty.  i have show and fur animals.  they need to stay in good condition.  group housing means pulled patches of fur from scrapping, it means chewed ears, it means scars.  animals in individual cages are safe.

when i first got into rabbits, i had a colony pen where my growouts lived.  it went well for a few months, then one my rabbits all began to drop like flies from what i know now was a strain of meningitis that had been in the soil and activated after a recent rain.  within 24 hours i lost over twenty rabbits to fever, loss of balance, and eventually violent, fatal seizures.  i had so many bodies i couldn’t fit them all in the freezer, so they sat in a pile on my porch until i had the time to dig a big enough hole.  i never had a colony again.

i built a huge hutch for them after that, and that worked much better.  but i found that having so many animals in a pen like that lead to me not seeing injuries and health problems until they were fairly extreme.  rabbits with overgrown teeth.  rabbits with injuries.  rabbits with missing feet.  i never noticed when one would fall ill and not eat because every morning the feeder was empty regardless.  most of the time i only saw when i was taking them out for their final run on the grass, even though i interacted with them as a whole daily for food/water and to clean their hutch and provide new enrichment.  this has never happened with the individually housed rabbits.  if someone stopped eating i knew immediately and was able to step in and make the effort to get their appetite back.  but more than once i walked out to the group hutch and found an emaciated corpse that seemed to come out of nowhere.  animals in individual cages are healthy.

you seem like you care about rabbits but you need to understand that the rhetoric you’ve been given by housepet communities and the house rabbit society are lies.  so much of what is considered “proper” rabbit care by the HRS is not only misinformation, but directly harmful to rabbits and those of us who breed and especially those of us who breed them for food or other resources.

please take a few minutes to read through this post and all of its sources.  https://o-i-have-too.tumblr.com/post/185596917579/a-masterpost-of-house-rabbit-society-bullshit  i’m not saying my way is the only way, or the best way, but that it’s not a bad way.  it’s not cruel, they aren’t being abused or neglected, and in fact i do it this way because in the past when i did try other methods they were being neglected, and i didn’t like that.  the way i raise my animals is the safest, healthiest possible way for me and for them.

[leelee10898]

Fast cars & Freedom: Bad Liar (12/?)

The end of summer zoo trip has arrived, as tensions run high will the trip be a disaster? Catch up HERE

Pairings: Logan x Ellie, Colt x Ellie

Rating: Mature

Ellie had gotten herself in well over her head again. After Logan told her what he wanted, and the blow up with Colt. She made herself busy with work, and spending her free time with Luca. She had been looking forward to the zoo trip all summer, but that morning she woke up dreading the day. She had minimal contact with Colt, and Logan was often at the track preparing for a big race coming up. She got up and got herself ready before waking Luca up. Once luca was ready they went down and had breakfast. Ellie sat there picking at her muffin, not having much of an appetite, and her stomach was flopping all over the place.

“Hey guys. We're sorry but we're not going to make it to the zoo today.” Ellie gave her dad a confused look. “Um ok. Not that I didn't want you guys to come but, it was only supposed to be The four of us. Luca, logan, colt and I.”

“oh Logan invited us the other day. But, sally and I are going away for the day.” Frank grabbed a cup of coffee while the frustration swirled in Ellies head. “You ok kiddo? You look a little pale.” Ellie shook her head “Yeah, im fine just, my nerves are shot.”

“Grampy, I'm going to the zoo today. I'm going to see Lions and pandas and tigers and hiphopitamuses.” she grinned, Ellie and Frank chuckling at the mispronunciation. “You mean hippopotamus’s” Frank snickered. “Yeah, that's what I said hiphopitamuses. Silly grampy.”

“Well you have fun. And don't let the monkeys fling poop at you.” Frank waved. “Dad! Seriously?” Ellie scolded him. He stuck out his tongue and walked out the door.

Ellie and Luca drove alone, meeting Logan and Colt there. After a 2 hour drive they pulled into the parking area of the zoo, meeting Colt at the gate. “Colt.” Luca went running, a wide smile spread across his face “Hey princess.” he scooped her up in a hug. “Hi Colt.” Ellie walked up to the too. “Ellie.” He acknowledged her. He still was angry, her stomach churned again, the stress was eating at her. “Hey Luca, Hey Ellie, you guys made it finally.” Logan came walking up, Ellie turned towards his voice glad he was there but her face falling slightly seeing Stacie standing next to him. “Oh, hey Stacie I didn't expect to see you here.”

“Oh, yeah Logan asked me to tag along.  Riya and Darius couldn't make it.” Stacie grinned.

Ellie chewed the inside of her cheek, trying not to say something she might regret.

They paid for their tickets and made their way into the zoo. Luca was ecstatic,  she loved the zoo and Ellie would often take her back on the East coast. She would always tell her how her parents would take her when she was a little girl, and her favorite animals to see were the otters.  Logan was just as excited as Luca he had never been to the zoo before. They walked around coming up to the Arctic Fox. "Wow, so pretty. Its fur is snow white." Ellie marveled at the beautiful animal before her. "Well, its white what did you expect." Colt snorted, Ellie shot him a dirty look. "Let's move on." Stacie suggested, sensing the tension.  

They walked up to the baboons, they watched them run around and jump, playing with each other.  Ellie stood next to Colt, who had Luca on his shoulders, her gaze set on Logan standing with Stacie. His hand planted on her shoulder as he stood behind her, pointing things out.she watched as Stacie laughed, and then playfully slapped his chest.

"Ok. Let's move on." Ellie snapped, they all looked at her as she quickly turned making her way to the next animal.

They stood in front of  the penguin display. "OOH penguins, I love penguins Colt. Get closer. " Luca tugged on his hair. "Ouch. Alright, Alright. I'll move closer." Logan stood next to Ellie and Stacie. "Awe look at the babies." Stacie swooned. "Did you know the father hatches the egg while the mother hunts?" Logan crossed his arms, pleased with his input. "Oh yeah? Where did you hear that?" Stacie quirked her brow, Logan gave her a lopsided grin "happy feet." Ellie rolled her eyes annoyed.  Stacie was her friend, but why did Logan invite her on their family outing, or for lack of better terms, dysfunctional family outing?

Of course you'd be impressed by that Ellie mumbles under her breath.  Colt cocked his head to the side.  "Something bothering you Elle?"

"NO." she snapped.

"You know most penguins go through life with one partner. Once they find them, they never seperate." Ellie shot him an unamused look. "If only some humans were like that." He focus on her as he spoke.  "Come on squirt, lets go look at the giraffe's."

Ellie stood there alone a minute while everyone followed colt. She could feel her stomach churning again. This was not how she anticipated the day going. Once she semi composed herself she joined the others.

After an afternoon of snide remarks and jabs between the 3 of them Ellie finally had her fill. They were standing in line to get drinks. It was hot, and tensions were running high. "Can we go see the tigers? Mommy, I want to see the polar bears, you promised we could see the polar bears. When Can we see something else. " Luca whined.

"Luca, we will go in a minute. Calm down and let stacie get her drink." Ellie snapped. "Whoa Ellie calm down. Are you mad about something?" Logan questioned as Ellie stood there, mouth agape "Seriously Logan?" She threw her hands up in the air "Why did you invite Stacie here?"

"I didn't think it would be a problem." Ellie rolled her eyes. "Of course not. Nothing is ever a problem. This was supposed to be a family outing. Is. Is something going on with you and Stacie?" She pointed at him, just as Stacie walked up. "No, were just friends Ellie." Logan said in defense prompting stacie to chime in "Ellie, I told you I would never do that to you."

"Why do you care so much Ellie? You want to be with Logan?" Colt broke his silence. The four began to argue amongst themselves for a few minutes, finally Ellie spoke up "I'm done with this. Come on Luca, lets let's go see the polar bears." She turned looking for Luca, she was nowhere to be found. "Luca? LUCA!" she shouted panic setting in.

"Luca." Logan shouted, still not getting a response.  Ellie began to hyperventilate colt on her immediately "Ellie, Elle I need you to calm down. We're gonna find her. Breathe in." He looked up "Logan, go look by the polar bear enclosure, and then to the Lions.  Stacie, go tell a staff member we have a missing child." The two nodded and took off.

"Colt, my baby. What if we." Ellie sobbed.

"Hey, calm down. We're gonna find her, trust me." He pulled her into a tight embrace, calming her down. "Now, is there anywhere else she would go?" Ellie's eyes went wide "Hippos."

Colt grabbed her hand as they took off running, darting around the other visitors. They came upon the Hippo enclosure, their eyes darted around before Colt locked eyes on the small brunette child "Luca." She shouted, she turned smiling at him. "Ellie, I got her." He shouted as he scooped her up in his arms. "Luca, you scared us. You can't wander off sweetheart."

"Lulu, oh thank god. Baby you can't wander off, you scared us to death." The three stood ellie and colt holding onto her for dear life.  

Logan and Stacie ran up, thankful she was ok. A slight pained look on his face as he watched the interaction between the three. "I'll go and inform the staff we found her." Stacie gave his shoulder a squeeze as she parted. Logan made his way to the trio "Thank god you found her. Hey lulu, you really gave us a scare." Luca reached over for Logan. "Are you mad at me uncle Logie?" Logan chuckled "no. I'm glad you're ok. But you can't wander off like that ok."

They decided to call it a day after that. Luca having school the next morning. Both men agreeing to come see her off. As Ellie put Luca to bed that night the day replaying in her head. How did things get so screwed up. Was there really something going on between Stacie and Logan? She knew Colt was upset about the divorce, but the way he stepped up and took control of the situation made her really believe he would be a good dad, if he was Lucas father. And the few minutes Luca was gone terrified her, it was just a few minutes but it felt like a lifetime. The nagging nauseous feeling crept back up again, she couldn't wait for it to be all over, the divorce,  the paternity results. She laid down, tossing and turning in bed most of the night.

The next morning she woke up, got Luca ready and sure enough both Colt and Logan were there to see her off. Luca was excited to start school, she excelled in preschool,  and placed much higher than a kindergarten level on her school entrance test. Though she most likely got her smarts from her mother, Colt was also very smart, and Logan really showed his intellectual side during the study date with Riya and Darius all those years ago. She would definitely be a force to be reckoned with in school, that was for sure.

Ellie took the day off of work, she knew she wouldn't be productive with her mind occupied with Luca being at school. She spent the day wandering around the house,  cleaning up, unpacking boxes she still hadn't gotten around to. If she were being honest with herself she was also trying to block out the fact the court date was the next week. She often found herself wondering if she were making a mistake,  and every time she wondered it, Dracys words popped in her head. He loved Luca, he really seemed like he would be a good dad. But what if being a family wasn't enough? What if he turned out to be just like Kaneko, wanting more, the crew again. She took a deep breath, allowing herself to think those thoughts brought back the familiar nauseous feeling. She took a deep breath calming herself down,  she would cross that bridge when the time came, only if she were Colts.

Before she knew it, it was almost time to get Luca from the bus. Logan had a race he coming up, so he had to take off right after they got Luca on the bus. Colt however, would be there. Ellie sat on the front patio waiting when she heard the familiar sound of a bike coming down the street. She watched  him as he pulled into the driveway. She always loved the way he looked when he rode. He had traded in his old leather jacket for a new one, his shoulders broader than when he was 19 going on 20. He was still as fit as ever, ellies mind flashed back to the night they hooked up, her hands pressed against his muscular chest. She bit her lip at the thought,  his impossibly tight shirt not helping the situation as he walked towards her . "I knew you would be out here already." He smirked as he walked onto the porch. "Yeah, how'd you know that." She tilted her head at him. "Because you're always like an hour early for everything."

He was right, and she couldn't believe he remembered.

"You ever think you'll go back to a car?" She asked.

"Not anytime soon," He chuckled "Guess I'll have to use one of the cars I Have sitting around for when I have Luca."

"I miss it." Colt eyed her "miss what? The bike? You want that too?"

"NO. I miss the riding. The thrill, the feeling." A blush crept up on her cheeks she prayed he didn't notice.

"Let's take a ride. " He stood holding out his hand. Ellie hesitated "I ahhh. I dont know, Luca-"

"will be off the bus in 45 minutes, we have time. Come on, we have plenty of time." Ellie contemplated for a split second, before an old feeling she had tucked away ignited her body. "Let's do it." She jumped up following him to the bike. They climbed on and he fired up the bike.

She wrapped her arms around his waist tightly, her head rested against his back. She watched as the scenery flew by in a blur, the sound of his peaceful breathing putting her at ease. She missed this more than she thought, she needed just one last ride before she closed that chapter of her life completely. They drove for about twenty minutes and then came back to the house. They got off the bike, "thanks. I needed that." Ellie smiled as they walked together to the patio. "Yeah  anytime." He sat down fidgeting with his thumbs. "I'm leaving town Elle." He blurted out. Ellie felt her heart drop into her stomach. "Colt. We have court, and what about Luca?" She was shocked, she couldn't believe he would just leave.

"I can't go to court, I can't go and I won't.  If I go, I will contest it all. But if I leave, you'll get what you want,  you'll be happy." He turned looking at her "That's all I want for you El, to be happy, that is all I ever wanted. I'll tell Luca, it's not forever,  just until after the court date." His voice cracking a little, she could tell he was giving everything he had not to break down, she had seen it once before, the night his father died. She tried to do the same but her eyes failed her terribly.  "Colt I. I'm sorry." She began to sob, a wave of emotion crashing over her. She hated this, she hated all of this. Why couldn't he of just got the annulment 6 years ago, why did she still have to care about them both?

"Ellie please don't cry, please." His voice wavering more. As he pulled her into a hug. "What. About. The test results,  what if they call?" She sniffled. "You call me, text me leave me a voicemail. Its shotty connection so I may not get them right away. If for some reason i can't get there, and she's not mine, just don't call me and tell me." Ellie shook her head. "When will you leave?"

"This weekend, friday morning. Just  for a week."

Before they knew it the bus pulled up. They were greeted by a bright eyed, big smile little girl. "Mooooomy, coooolt." She flew into Ellies arms almost knocking her over. "Whoa." Ellie goggled, steadying herself. "Did you have a good day?" "I had the best day ever!" She ran to colts arms as he scooped her up twirling her around. "Hey sweetheart, what did you do today?" He put her down as they sat down "Well my teacher tried to teach us counting today and they only had us count to 20. I said that's it?"

"Oh yeah? Well what did she say?" Colt cocked his brow, knowing Luca she gave this teacher a run for her money. "Well she said that we would work on counting past 20 later on in the year. So I said, lady I can count past 20 with no problem." They looked to her to finish.  "And she said oh yeah, that's excellent what can you count to? And then I said um like 1,000. So she didn't believe me so I started counting." Her face going somber "She. She cut me off at 497." Ellie and Colt both looked to each other and laughed.

"That's amazing squirt. You are so smart, just like mommy." Colts sincere gaze met her eyes. "Hey Luca. I have to tell you something ok?" Luca looked up at him "I just wanted to let you know that I have to go out of town for a little bit."

"You're leaving?" She sniffled.  "Yeah but not til Friday, and just a few days."

"Will you put me on the bus every morning?" She batted her tiny little lashes, Just like her mom, he was a sucker for it and Colt was warped around her tiny little fingers. "Yes I will."

"And get me off the bus?" Ellie chuckled, she was persuasive.

"Of course, wouldn't miss it for the world." Colt hugged her.

The week flew past, she missed Logan and wasn't sure what to do about him. Could she really divorce Colt and then date Logan? Was that even fair? Would she lose him forever? Could she handle that? Friday morning Colt came to put Luca on the bus, Ellie thought it best if he did it alone, it would be hard on them both when he left. Just a few short days and it would be over, but was she ready? Only time would tell.

Colt drove the biggest part of the day. Fighting back the urge to turn around and show up to that court house next week.  He needed to push through to get to his destination and try to clear his mind.

After almost 8 hours he pulled into the Lake Tahoe area. Up a gravel driveway to a nice cabin that sat by the lake. The woman stood there hands on her hips,  "Bout time you came up here to see me."

"Hey Mom."

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[roadhaas]

49 Tales of Terrible Tragedy

CW: violence, blood, general horror themes.

A bit more horror heavy this one, just wanna put that upfront so the shift in tone doesn’t catch anyone by surprise.

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The dim, red glow of a cigarette, nearly burned down to its filter, weaved a precarious path through the darkness. It proceeded a man of intermediate stature, his hair unkempt and slick with grease, carrying a briefcase in one emaciated hand.

The red glow, with man in tow, approached the front door of a run-down motel on the side of the high-way. It made it all the way to the door before being extinguished with a deft flick of the hand. The man, still carrying that briefcase, lurched into a sparsely adorned, but cozy, lobby.

In the flickering lights, the man’s form came into stark focus. His attire was well made, but ragged and dirty. His once-white undershirt was now an off-putting shade of yellow from months of sweat and grime. His eyes were sunken into his skull, creating a grim visage of sleepless nights and reserved secrets. His only notable possession was the briefcase he carried in his left hand, which was fastened to his wrist by a pair of steel handcuffs.

He approached the counter, in the background a faint buzzing noise filled the otherwise awkward silence. It was the old CRTV in the corner, turned off but quietly reminding the world that it was still here.

“Room for one,” the dirty, briefcase wielding man croaked.

The transaction was unceremonious and quick, and before long man and briefcase found themselves in a dimly lit room with one bed, one chair, and another faintly buzzing CRTV.

Even here, in the quiet of this hotel room and ostensibly alone, the man seemed on edge. Several times he rose from the bed, dragging his briefcase, to double check the doors and windows and ensure the locks were still tightly fastened. Eventually, having inspected everything many times over, he returned to the old mattress and sat cross legged in the center.

He fished a key from his pocket and undid the handcuff securing the briefcase to his wrist. Replacing it, he reached into his suit jacket to retrieve a seperate key, which he used to gingerly unlock the briefcase itself. 

He waited a full minute before slowly lifting the lid to peer at it’s contents. 

Within the briefcase, completely unadorned or secured and with dogeared edges and slightly yellowed pages, was a paperback novel. The title, printed across the front in an ostentatious font, read “49 Tales of Terrible Tragedy.”

The man regarded the book with cautious malice, the way one might observe a murderous crocodile through the glass of a zoo enclosure. After staring at it for a couple moments, almost as if to verify its continued existence, the man closed the briefcase and set it beside the bed.

With nary another passing moment, the man surrendered to his exhaustion and passed out on the old mattress, still fully clothed in his disgusting attire.

The man would awake to screaming.

It was screaming he’d heard before.

Like a firefighter springing up at a clanging bell or a soldier responding to air raid sirens, the man leapt from his sleeping position on the grimy hotel mattress. The scene before him was horrific but not unfamiliar. A woman, wearing what appeared to a hotel staff uniform, was doubled over in the corner of the room in a pool of blood, her screams slowly fading as the pool expanded, pushing away the open paperback book that she had seemingly checked in curiosity as it lay in the briefcase next to the man’s bed.

He panicked, grabbed the cursed tome, and ran from the building. As he jumped sideways into his car, ignoring the shouting of the hotel clerk behind him, he chastised himself for being so careless once more.

As his car screeched out of the dirty motel parking lot, the now uncovered novel thrown haphazardly into the passenger seat shifted, revealing its title.

“50 Tales of Terrible Tragedy.”

[gldnsctn]

The Circular Ruins :: Jorge Luis Borges

No one saw him disembark in the unanimous night, no one saw the bamboo canoe sink into the sacred mud, but in a few days there was no one who did not know that the taciturn man came from the South and that his home had been one of those numberless villages upstream in the deeply cleft side of the mountain, where the Zend language has not been contaminated by Greek and where leprosy is infrequent. What is certain is that the grey man kissed the mud, climbed up the bank with pushing aside (probably, without feeling) the blades which were lacerating his flesh, and crawled, nauseated and bloodstained, up to the circular enclosure crowned with a stone tiger or horse, which sometimes was the color of flame and now was that of ashes. This circle was a temple which had been devoured by ancient fires, profaned by the miasmal jungle, and whose god no longer received the homage of men. The stranger stretched himself out beneath the pedestal. He was awakened by the sun high overhead. He was not astonished to find that his wounds had healed; he closed his pallid eyes and slept, not through weakness of flesh but through determination of will. He knew that this temple was the place required for his invincible intent; he knew that the incessant trees had not succeeded in strangling the ruins of another propitious temple downstream which had once belonged to gods now burned and dead; he knew that his immediate obligation was to dream. Toward midnight he was awakened by the inconsolable shriek of a bird. Tracks of bare feet, some figs and a jug warned him that the men of the region had been spying respectfully on his sleep, soliciting his protection or afraid of his magic. He felt a chill of fear, and sought out a sepulchral niche in the dilapidated wall where he concealed himself among unfamiliar leaves.

The purpose which guided him was not impossible, though supernatural. He wanted to dream a man; he wanted to dream him in minute entirety and impose him on reality. This magic project had exhausted the entire expanse of his mind; if someone had asked him his name or to relate some event of his former life, he would not have been able to give an answer. This uninhabited, ruined temple suited him, for it is contained a minimum of visible world; the proximity of the workmen also suited him, for they took it upon themselves to provide for his frugal needs. The rice and fruit they brought him were nourishment enough for his body, which was consecrated to the sole task of sleeping and dreaming.

At first, his dreams were chaotic; then in a short while they became dialectic in nature. The stranger dreamed that he was in the center of a circular amphitheater which was more or less the burnt temple; clouds of taciturn students filled the tiers of seats; the faces of the farthest ones hung at a distance of many centuries and as high as the stars, but their features were completely precise. The man lectured his pupils on anatomy, cosmography, and magic: the faces listened anxiously and tried to answer understandingly, as if they guessed the importance of that examination which would redeem one of them from his condition of empty illusion and interpolate him into the real world. Asleep or awake, the man thought over the answers of his phantoms, did not allow himself to be deceived by imposters, and in certain perplexities he sensed a growing intelligence. He was seeking a soul worthy of participating in the universe.

After nine or ten nights he understood with a certain bitterness that he could expect nothing from those pupils who accepted his doctrine passively, but that he could expect something from those who occasionally dared to oppose him. The former group, although worthy of love and affection, could not ascend to the level of individuals; the latter pre-existed to a slightly greater degree. One afternoon (now afternoons were also given over to sleep, now he was only awake for a couple hours at daybreak) he dismissed the vast illusory student body for good and kept only one pupil. He was a taciturn, sallow boy, at times intractable, and whose sharp features resembled of those of his dreamer. The brusque elimination of his fellow students did not disconcert him for long; after a few private lessons, his progress was enough to astound the teacher. Nevertheless, a catastrophe took place. One day, the man emerged from his sleep as if from a viscous desert, looked at the useless afternoon light which he immediately confused with the dawn, and understood that he had not dreamed. All that night and all day long, the intolerable lucidity of insomnia fell upon him. He tried exploring the forest, to lose his strength; among the hemlock he barely succeeded in experiencing several short snatchs of sleep, veined with fleeting, rudimentary visions that were useless. He tried to assemble the student body but scarcely had he articulated a few brief words of exhortation when it became deformed and was then erased. In his almost perpetual vigil, tears of anger burned his old eyes.

He understood that modeling the incoherent and vertiginous matter of which dreams are composed was the most difficult task that a man could undertake, even though he should penetrate all the enigmas of a superior and inferior order; much more difficult than weaving a rope out of sand or coining the faceless wind. He swore he would forget the enormous hallucination which had thrown him off at first, and he sought another method of work. Before putting it into execution, he spent a month recovering his strength, which had been squandered by his delirium. He abandoned all premeditation of dreaming and almost immediately succeeded in sleeping a reasonable part of each day. The few times that he had dreams during this period, he paid no attention to them. Before resuming his task, he waited until the moon's disk was perfect. Then, in the afternoon, he purified himself in the waters of the river, worshiped the planetary gods, pronounced the prescribed syllables of a mighty name, and went to sleep. He dreamed almost immediately, with his heart throbbing.

He dreamed that it was warm, secret, about the size of a clenched fist, and of a garnet color within the penumbra of a human body as yet without face or sex; during fourteen lucid nights he dreampt of it with meticulous love. Every night he perceived it more clearly. He did not touch it; he only permitted himself to witness it, to observe it, and occasionally to rectify it with a glance. He perceived it and lived it from all angles and distances. On the fourteenth night he lightly touched the pulmonary artery with his index finger, then the whole heart, outside and inside. He was satisfied with the examination. He deliberately did not dream for a night; he took up the heart again, invoked the name of a planet, and undertook the vision of another of the principle organs. Within a year he had come to the skeleton and the eyelids. The innumerable hair was perhaps the most difficult task. He dreamed an entire man--a young man, but who did not sit up or talk, who was unable to open his eyes. Night after night, the man dreamt him asleep.

In the Gnostic cosmosgonies, demiurges fashion a red Adam who cannot stand; as a clumsy, crude and elemental as this Adam of dust was the Adam of dreams forged by the wizard's nights. One afternoon, the man almost destroyed his entire work, but then changed his mind. (It would have been better had he destroyed it.) When he had exhausted all supplications to the deities of earth, he threw himself at the feet of the effigy which was perhaps a tiger or perhaps a colt and implored its unknown help. That evening, at twilight, he dreamt of the statue. He dreamt it was alive, tremulous: it was not an atrocious bastard of a tiger and a colt, but at the same time these two firey creatures and also a bull, a rose, and a storm. This multiple god revealed to him that his earthly name was Fire, and that in this circular temple (and in others like it) people had once made sacrifices to him and worshiped him, and that he would magically animate the dreamed phantom, in such a way that all creatures, except Fire itself and the dreamer, would believe to be a man of flesh and blood. He commanded that once this man had been instructed in all the rites, he should be sent to the other ruined temple whose pyramids were still standing downstream, so that some voice would glorify him in that deserted ediface. In the dream of the man that dreamed, the dreamed one awoke.

The wizard carried out the orders he had been given. He devoted a certain length of time (which finally proved to be two years) to instructing him in the mysteries of the universe and the cult of fire. Secretly, he was pained at the idea of being seperated from him. On the pretext of pedagogical necessity, each day he increased the number of hours dedicated to dreaming. He also remade the right shoulder, which was somewhat defective. At times, he was disturbed by the impression that all this had already happened . . . In general, his days were happy; when he closed his eyes, he thought: Now I will be with my son. Or, more rarely: The son I have engendered is waiting for me and will not exist if I do not go to him.

Gradually, he began accustoming him to reality. Once he ordered him to place a flag on a faraway peak. The next day the flag was fluttering on the peak. He tried other analogous experiments, each time more audacious. With a certain bitterness, he understood that his son was ready to be born--and perhaps impatient. That night he kissed him for the first time and sent him off to the other temple whose remains were turning white downstream, across many miles of inextricable jungle and marshes. Before doing this (and so that his son should never know that he was a phantom, so that he should think himself a man like any other) he destroyed in him all memory of his years of apprenticeship.

His victory and peace became blurred with boredom. In the twilight times of dusk and dawn, he would prostrate himself before the stone figure, perhaps imagining his unreal son carrying out identical rites in other circular ruins downstream; at night he no longer dreamed, or dreamed as any man does. His perceptions of the sounds and forms of the universe became somewhat pallid: his absent son was being nourished by these diminution of his soul. The purpose of his life had been fulfilled; the man remained in a kind of ecstasy. After a certain time, which some chronicles prefer to compute in years and others in decades, two oarsmen awoke him at midnight; he could not see their faces, but they spoke to him of a charmed man in a temple of the North, capable of walking on fire without burning himself. The wizard suddenly remembered the words of the god. He remembered that of all the creatures that people the earth, Fire was the only one who knew his son to be a phantom. This memory, which at first calmed him, ended by tormenting him. He feared lest his son should meditate on this abnormal privilege and by some means find out he was a mere simulacrum. Not to be a man, to be a projection of another man's dreams--what an incomparable humiliation, what madness! Any father is interested in the sons he has procreated (or permitted) out of the mere confusion of happiness; it was natural that the wizard should fear for the future of that son whom he had thought out entrail by entrail, feature by feature, in a thousand and one secret nights.

His misgivings ended abruptly, but not without certain forewarnings. First (after a long drought) a remote cloud, as light as a bird, appeared on a hill; then, toward the South, the sky took on the rose color of leopard's gums; then came clouds of smoke which rusted the metal of the nights; afterwards came the panic-stricken flight of wild animals. For what had happened many centuries before was repeating itself. The ruins of the sanctuary of the god of Fire was destroyed by fire. In a dawn without birds, the wizard saw the concentric fire licking the walls. For a moment, he thought of taking refuge in the water, but then he understood that death was coming to crown his old age and absolve him from his labors. He walked toward the sheets of flame. They did not bite his flesh, they caressed him and flooded him without heat or combustion. With relief, with humiliation, with terror, he understood that he also was an illusion, that someone else was dreaming him.

[khornoth-blog]

“Where is she?”

<Trigger warning for gore and not so nice things! ; - ; > 

It had been a long week of treachery and warfare. The Alliance were masters by now in the tactic of guerrilla warfare. Whereas Khornoth helped entrench some of the best lines the Horde had, there was never enough time before some Alliance spy had managed to lay down a trap or sabotage their efforts. Some of the younger Blackrocks have simply snapped and fought one another for accidents that could not be explained. Cannot be explained, until a Shaman uncovered a sickening goblin hired by the Alliance was the source of our snapping tempers. 

The next  thing to snap was his neck when i threw him to the grunts.

Still, the Alliance has made such remarkable attacks on Khornoth and his Khornites merely on foot. Always in range and always with a light step, often attacks came as so; A single bulk unit of Kul Tiran and Seventh Legion warriors move in, gaining our force’s attention with ranged attacks. When the main forces focus on them, the Alliance sends their rats to cut down at the legs of blessed Khornites. It’s come to a point the old orc has extended his own salary towards goblins specifically claiming themselves ‘knee cap protectors’. As it would seem, the war was firm on its disbelief of honor. 

*I breathed slowly, standing at my command tent. I had finished offering the last blessing to my warriors, and finally were we able to set down one trench line for the riflemen and the shield guard. Our warriors have dwindled lower, and now we await reinforcements from the main force to take the offensive here. The Ranger Lord has charmed me and promised this would not take long with the forces I had. But even now twelve of my poor warrior kin has been slaughtered, and three times the amount of grunts. Losses that I cannot shake off me, where some nights I do not sleep. Young warriors, some barely of age to find mates. But we must hold here until the Ranger Lord’s reinforcements arrive.*

At hold, the Champion of Blackrock stood behind the trench in his soldier’s burrow. Several warriors were sleeping, and Khornoth was put on watch for them along with the other twelve Blackrocks sitting in the trench. Shifts would be switched in the morning, and those at guard would get some rest. Khornoth did not think about rest right now though. He was constantly glaring through the skinny slits of the burrow, keeping an eye on the local fauna. The peons under his command had been tasked with ruining trees and using their lumber for structures and protection. They only had to worry about one side of the enemy, because behind them was a steep mountain wall that halted the need for a full enclosure. And the best part was that there was an escape path. This was an ideal position, assigned by the Ranger Lord that commanded Khornoth. He did hate however how far it was from the head quarters of Wyldegleam. It was a distance away from the shore, but still in Tiragarde no less. Khornoth wanted to see Faetrix, Andar’thael. Some nights were restless because he could not find the warmth inside his tent despite the fires and his own bodily heat. No. Being here always crept this coldness... Like the first second when stone in the winter is pushed against skin. That shocking cold that feels unbearable to the senses, but just for a moment. Khornoth twitched, snapping his head upward when he saw movement with a shrubbery. Nothing of course, came out.

I sighed, putting my ironclad hand on my face. But I broke the short pleasure of closed eyes when I heard the start of words behind me. My gauntlet’s hand on my face became a fist and I spun around to strike the potential assassin, only to recoil back before I could strike the Stone Guard that had approached. I was caught in a recoil, losing balance for a short embarrassing moment before regaining my step. The warrior flinched and had recoiled herself, fearful of the strike that would have just ruined her tusks. I cursed her, daz’kook, shaking my fist at her. She cringed, before bowing her head. “We spotted elves coming this way. Night elves, drunken and armed. There are at least seven of them, all heading here. We are ready to go when you are.

Khornoth still had grunts and scouts, despite the losses he suffered from the rushing tactics of the Alliance. Khornoth however, was itching to spill blood. “Tell the other scouts to come, and keep hidden. I will handle them myself. If anything suspicious comes, engage and I will flee. We must have no losses. Tell the warriors in the trench and prepare our towers for battle,” said the old orc. The scout nods, before running off to inform the Khornites and grunts. 

It was a few minutes, of quick shouts and the lighting of torches until I was met with the scouts that had spotted the elves. Two trolls, a goblin, a pandaren and finally the Stone Guard who informed me were all that was my war party that could seperate from the main force. I motioned for them to follow, dimming the flames on my armor quickly so I was much harder to see in the darkness of night. 

Go north, just ahead. We will follow, lay on the short hills here with the bushes. 

Khornoth moved ahead of the trench, as it was conveniently pointed north from the perspective of the camp. The orc was walking only a pair of minutes before stumbling upon the drunk and enraged elves. They looked at Khornoth, and they all became enraged and started to shout. One of them spoke common. 

“BURNING ORC SCUM! W-” The elf hicccups, “WE WILL AVENGE THE WHORES OF DARNASSUS AND THE BIRDIES!” That one elf’s voice cracked as he finished his sentence, snorting and stumbling with a drunken stupor. The elves cheered and shouted some more. They were Seventh Legion, easily recognizable by the uniforms they wore. Khornoth advanced towards them, hammer in hand and his Kalma in his other.

I charged them. One of them attempted to charge me, but it was foolish. Others tried to join in that drunken heroic run, but they lost their footing and one of them even fell. The one that did collide with me, I ran against and proceeded to flatten him under my boots. I stomped hard, digging my heel into the head of the elf. Crunching and a slight slip. That, was what I enjoyed to hear when I fought these feeble tree lovers. Pushing forward, several of the elves met with me with swords and daggers. Simple swings with my kalma rendered them corpses. A slice across two of them, a crush of another with my hammer. Using the gifts of my ancestors, I burned the rest. To prevent fire spreading, I stomped on their bodies as they burned. Perhaps just to end their pain quicker. That would be a kindness.

Khornoth was simply pushing his foot down on an elf’;s head, before something jumped onto his back. 

“I’M BACK BITCH!” Screamed a woman. A woman that has tried to kill Khornoth multiple times! The orc had her alone, without Kul Tiran scum, and he grabbed her by her red locks. As he lifted his hand, pulling her hair and getting her off him, she had stabbed his arm with a knife. Khornoth roars in pain, as the awful device shot out spikes to anchor into the wound. Khornoth quickly worked to cauterize the wound, burning his black skin and attaching it to his armor. 

I screamed while I  combined my own armor with my skin, and with my roar the war party I had came to my aid. They scared off the woman, and I was guided back to the camp.

The wound I thought I had cauterized was only worsened by the procedure. The armor I would had pulled more skin, and I mistook the stream of blood going down my arm for sweat. 

I fainted.

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Morning now. The Ranger-Lord’s reinforcements arrived, and so did a Centurion to hold my position. I was relieved for a short time, two days unless I was in need of an emergency. Arm in a metal battle-cast, I had a gun mount on it and my gun on my back. Never go without a weapon. 

My first destination was the Ranger-Lord’s ship. I was excited to see him and Faetrix. I wished to spend the night with them, to care for my mates and to feel their warmth again.

But when i returned, I couldn’t find either of them. The cabin was locked, and no knock roused anyone.

I asked one of the stationed Rangers.

The Ranger-Lord disappeared, and Faetrix was no where to be found. 

I waited. I waited at my tent, next to the ship, watching the captain’s cabin from my position. No one came out, no one entered. 

Night came back, and I couldn’t take it. I marched up the ramp to the boat, and when I slammed the door open, the Ranger Lord was there, sitting, hands on his head. 

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Gone,” he said.

[fernsandfairylights-blog]

As someone who constantly advises people against getting tortoises if they can't house them properly, I love this post so much. I didn't know much about how to keep hamsters properly and it seems like people are just as uninformed as about tortoises. So here are some general things to know if you want a (Greek) tortoise (applies for many other common pet tortoises as well):

do not keep them in a terrarium, it's too small and they won't get enough movement, UV light etc. Tortoises kept in terrariums show severe deformities. In case you didn't know, naturally they are not supposed to have a bumpy or flat shell, nor a beak

Speaking of beak, do not feed them salad and vegetables. Every now and then, a little bit is okay (make sure it's safe for them) but it should be a rare treat. Feed them wild herbs instead. Experienced tortoise keepers in your country can probably tell you which herbs are available in your area

The easiest way to feed them is to let them feed themselves. I plant the herbs my tortoises likes directly into her enclosure and she takes a bite whenever she pleases, as they naturally would

I mentioned an enclosure. This is the most important part. Tortoises should have a sufficiently large enclosure outside. For Greek tortoises, Mediterranean climate needs to be available, thus the enclosure may need a greenhouse or hotbed. Ideally, it should (at least) feature a sleeping house, an electric opener so it does not get too hot, and a UV lamp. So while getting the tortoise may be cheap, getting an appropriate enclosure can be expensive. Your tortoise should be able to live outside all the time. Even at night. Therefore, the enclosure needs to be predator-prove.

Do not house a male and a female together. The male will stress her out a lot. 2 females per male is the minimal recommendations. You can also seperate them.

If you have a Greek tortoise, it needs to hibernate. I cannot stress this enough. Hibernation is important for their health. If you have the technology to provide an appropriate temperature for hibernation in their outside sleeping house, great. If not, consider getting a refrigerator for her. That way you can control the temperature and check on them easily.

Do not put them directly into the fridge for hibernation. Instead, fill a box with earth, leaves, spaghnum moss

Your tortoise needs a hot basking spot, as well as a colder humid area

Tortoises bodies cannot control their temperature. Therefore, they need a way to cool down. Their water bowls should be big enough to allow them to take a bath. Important: contrary to turtles, they CANNOT SWIM!!

that's all I can think of for now. Message me if you have questions :)

Just for reference: here's what a healthy tortoise looks like compared to one who was raised in a terrarium

Top: leopard tortoise I met at an exhibit. Notice the bumps and beak? This animal looked terribly unhealthy. And the enclosure is obviously horrible. I was PISSED

Bottom: my Greek tortoise, pretty healthy so far, fingers crossed :)

(btw I don't feed her that plant often. I know it's high in oxalic acid, so it doesn't grow in her enclosure, but it's her favorite so sometimes she gets a treat)

10 Steps To Care For Your Hamster (long post!)

1. Do not keep them in pairs. Hamsters are loners - keeping them together often results in stress, fighting, injuries and death. They are very happy alone. 

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2. Minimum cage size

dwarf hamsters: 30 x 20 x 20 inches (80x50x50cm);

bigger hamsters: 40 x 20 x 20��inches (100x50x50cm)!

NOT like this: 

Living in cages like this for them is like a human living in an elevator - a lot too small and even dangerous! 

For them it feels like this:

Behavior like this is a signal for stress because the cage is too small or that they need more bedding:

Better:

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3. Your hamster (always!) needs a hamster wheel - and it must be a lot bigger than you might think! 

Hamster must be able to run with a completely straight back

on a closed surface

with a closed back wall! 

NOT like this: 

Results of those wheels are: spine problems, backache, stress, injuries! 

Minimum wheel size for dwarf hamsters: 9-10 inches. 

Minimum wheel size for bigger hamsters: 12 inches! 

Better: 

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4. Do not buy them plastic tubes (at all): 

Those tubes are not suitable at all: Hamsters get stuck or suffocate in them easily. 

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5. Your hamster needs enough bedding to dig and build tunnels.

NOT like this:  

Better: 

Your hamster will be extremely happy and dig around and build tunnels all day (night). 

A study also found out that (golden) hamsters need up to 12-36 inches of bedding, so just do your best do give them the highest amount of bedding possible. :)

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6. The less plastic the better! 

NOT like this:

Plastic gets swallowed, splinters, can injure or even kill your hamster. 

Better: 

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7. Hamsters ALWAYS need a sand bath.

Hamsters love rolling around in the sand, for them it’s like showering. How would you feel without a shower? 

You can use those little baths as toilets, but you still need a bigger sand bath!

Better:

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8. Hamsters need a house with at least 2 or more chambers to store food, sleep etc. Also make sure that your hamster does have enough hiding places like coconuts, small houses, toilet rolls! 

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9. Do use unperfumed toilet paper for nesting material, don’t use “hamster wool” -> it can tangle around a limb and seriously hurt and even kill your hamster! 

NOT like this: 

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10. Never ever ever put your hamster or any animal in a hamster ball. 

They can’t get out, might suffocate or panic, might run against furniture and seriously injure themselves. The ventilation is terrible, your hamster can’t see/smell/hear enough or use any of their senses properly.

In some countries they even discuss about banning those by law! 

Even if you think that “your hamster has fun in it” - please don’t use them! 

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Please reblog and spread this information.

Pet stores often are very misinformed and sell terrible cages and have little to no idea how to keep a happy hamster - please be careful when trusting them. In the end they often just want to make money - and the hamsters suffer. 

Please adopt, not buy hamsters - there are too many hamsters in this world that we need any more breeding. 

**

MASTERPOST: Cheap Cages And Supplies For Hamsters - IKEA

~ more to come ~

(Sorry for the spelling errors - I made this post in a rush.)