Rodent Spotlight: Long-Eared Jerboa

Jerboas are commonly known for their wonderfully decorative tails. In a previous blog, I made them out to be rather proud of those tails--something they can flaunt and use to make them feel better than everyone else. Maybe, they ARE better than everyone else!

Eh. Maybe not.

In this blog, we have a somewhat different take on the species. Introducing... the long-eared jerboa--a creatures not at all known for its pretty tail. That is not to say that its tail is ugly. I would say that the tail of this particular rodent is no better or worse than its cousin. As the name suggests, it is the ears of this creature that can be considered quite noteworthy.

The long-eared jerboa boasts ears that are so large that they are one-third larger than its head. That's huge! You might expect that they have no trouble at all hearing things, and you would be right in this expectation. This rodent actually hunts insects by sound. They can hear even the slightest movement around them, and when they realize their prey is near, they pounce upon them with their springy legs.

So... not only are the ears huge, but they are very useful as well. I am sure that they would be very proud of them. There might even be ear-measuring contests among them to see who gets the most praise. I would not throw it past them to do such a thing.

In fiction, I really saw them as skilled information merchants. There is a lot to be said for a rodent that can hear a conversation taking place in the next building over. Of course, the downside of this trait would be that no one would want to be any where near them. After all, you couldn't possibly NOT recognize them when they entered town. Being friendless is not important anyways, for a jerboa's best companion will always be himself.

What do you think? Would you dare tell secrets anywhere near this guy? Well, if you did, you should be prepared for those secrets to come back to haunt you. There can't be many whispers that can get past a long-eared jerboa.

Thank you for reading this blog. If you enjoyed it, you can comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Can you hear me now?

On the March

"On the March" by T.K. Wade (From the pages of "Wild.")

The loud announcements never seemed to stop. “No talking! No deviating from the trail! Never stop marching! Always remain three antenna’s length apart from each other! Remember: you… are… nobody! Together, we… are… everything!”

Number Fifty-Six groaned at the constant repeating of that mantra. It was almost enough to drive nearly anyone into ripping their own head off. No wonder most of the ants only survived about ninety days. If the constant danger did not kill you, the monotony would.

The groaning ant looked behind him. Twenty-Eight was following him at the approved distance. Before speaking to his friend, Fifty-Six checked around him to see if he was being watched by any of the officers. “Hey Twenty, you ever wonder what it would be like to just… leave the trail?”

The other ant responded, “Are you crazy?! That’s cause for execution! Heck, I bet even the queen herself would do it.”

“Why is a little excursion so wrong? There are so many other areas of this structure that I haven’t seen.”

“What’s wrong with what you have already seen?”

Fifty-Six shrugged. “What do you mean? I don’t call the rear end of another ant very scenic.”

Obviously the ant up ahead heard the remark and rightly took offence. “Hey, will you two knock it off? You’re gonna get all of us in trouble!”

Twenty-Eight sighed. “You might wanna listen to him and button your mandibles.”

Fifty-Six continued to groan. A passing officer yelled him back to his senses. “Straighten up! You are marching for the queen, boy!” Fifty straightened up for the time it took to get out of sight.

Twenty went on to say, “That was pretty close. Are you gonna stop bugging me about all this excursion nonsense?”

It was almost as if Twenty-Eight was ignored. Fifty went right back onto his own topic. “Did you hear what happened to Trail Nine the other day?”

“It’s not my place to know. They don’t want you dealing with anything that’s not associated with your own trail.”

“I heard they all died. Poison, I think.”

“So what? You want to go bury them? We got our own ants to deal with.”

“Well, it kind of makes you think: we could be walking into poison right now. Nobody buries the poisoned. They just get left there to die alone.”

“Well, who would wanna go in there anyways?! It’s all contaminated!”

“I don’t wanna go in there to begin with! I just think this whole trail thing is gonna get us killed someday, Twenty. And what then? We just get left out on the ground to be swept away by a broom someday?”

Twenty snapped, “Okay, just shut up! You’re making me depressed!”

Fifty returned with an equal demeanor, “Well, at least I can see it bothers you too! Come on, Twenty, let’s just ditch this trail and find our own paths!”

An ominous voice asked from the sidelines, “What was that?!” Fifty-Six gulped. It was one of the officers. “Did I just hear what sounded like an individual?!”

Fifty was not sure how to answer, but Twenty spoke up to defend his friend, “He’s been a little off his game, sir. I’ll push him back into submission in no time.”

Fifty nodded profusely. “It’s true! He has to do that to me sometimes. Please, don’t kill me.”

The officer followed them for a little while before saying, “All right. But I’m going to file a report on you anyways. What is your number?”

Fifty-Six gulped and said, “Forty-Nine?”

“Right, get back to the trail!”

The two ants saw the pile of sugar up ahead. Fifty-Six peered back at his friend one last time. “You think its poison?”

Twenty-Eight shrugged. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

“Any chance you wanna switch places with me?”

“Just shut up and grab what you can. We need to get it back to the queen, A-S-A-P.”

“Jeez, you’re starting to sound like the officers. Are we ever gonna break free of all this monotony, Twenty?”

“Maybe someday, but right now, let’s go dive into that poison over there.”

Fifty-Six groaned, “Very funny. If it is poison, you’re gonna feel sorry for making that joke.”

To which Twenty replied, “If it’s poison, I won’t be feeling much of anything.”

Fifty sighed. “Good point.”

-Author Notes-

This story could easily be misinterpreted as an anarchist propaganda tale. In reality, it is actually very patriotic. Some people take for granted what freedoms we actually have in the United States. There are other countries out there that do not even come close. There have even been cases where a country will demand you sacrifice your life for the greater good, and if you refuse, they will take your life as punishment. Where I live, I can make that choice myself, and nobody can force me to do anything.

-----

Check out my ebook "Wild" available for free at Barnes and Noble! Just CLICK HERE!

Rodent Spotlight: Pallid Gerbil

The pallid gerbil--also known as the pale gerbil--is a North African species of rodent found mainly in Egypt. They are notable for being unusually skinny with protruding eyes which are very expressive. As it is with many species of gerbils, they are very friendly and enjoy the company of others... and THOSE are the basics. This would be a really short blog if I didn't have more to say on the matter.

I'll be honest, I am clearly running out of rodents to write these blogs about, but there are some species that catch my interest purely on the basis of imagination. The pallid gerbil appeared like it had an interesting personality whether I look into the research or not. That said, the research was very interesting.

Picture--if you will--a group of three pallid gerbils in a cage sitting around a food bowl during their lunchtime. I know what you're thinking! You think that I am about to tell you some sort of cute story, aren't you? You're fears are not unfounded!

"Ah! To be eating together with all of my fine fellows and friends!" said one of the gerbils to his mates. "I doubt we would enjoy these little nibbles if we were alone!"

"I know it," agreed another. "I hear many other rodents dislike being alone. What are we going to do after we finish?"

A third suggested, "I propose we do something silly."

"Why is that?" asked the first.

"Well, if we did something proper, it would hardly constitute a celebration of this fine feast. We have to be a little silly once in a while."

"Agreed," said the second. "I like the idea of being silly. But if we are going to be silly, what sort of silly shall we be?"

The pallid gerbils all looked at each other but could not think of anything silly at the first of it. Then the third gerbil had an idea. He sneakily moved his head over to the tail of the one aside of him, and gave it a little nip. The victim was so startled that he hopped straight into the air bumping his head into the top of the cage.

"Oh! It is war then, is it?!" cried out the bitten. "Then let there be war!"

Following this, all the pallid gerbils chased each other around the cage while giggling madly--nipping tails whenever they could. Being silly was a nasty business, I suppose; however, they wore themselves out enough to have a fine sleep afterwards. They did this in a little pallid pile in one corner of their cage. Life could not be any happier.

Following this incident, the traditional tail chase became a daily event. While some of this activity may have proven slightly painful, they all agreed that it was silly, and silly was a wonderful way to end a meal.

Thank you for reading my blog. If you enjoyed it, you can leave a comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Hehe!

The Bully

"The Bully" by T.K. Wade (From the pages of "Wild.")

Going out into the forest should never have to be as nerve racking as it was. Jack never thought so anyways. The poor bunny had gotten to the point where he never wanted to leave home. “Please don’t make me go!” he would plead to his mother. “You don’t know what it’s like!”

Mother rabbit shook her head. “Now, Jack, you need to spend more time with the other rabbits! Honestly, I don’t know what’s so horrible about it. Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“N-no. I just don’t like it there. Don’t make me go!”

She nudged him away from the warren. “You’re just shy! Go on! I’ll see you later!”

Jack moped to himself as he hopped into the forest. This area was usually pretty safe and was a good meeting place for the bunny folk of the area. The only problem was that there was someone who would always meet him part of the way.

“Prepare to get eaten!” cried the horrible voice from an unknown location.

Jack stopped and trembled. “Go away! I’m not afraid of you!”

The voice laughed. “I don’t care if you’re afraid or not; I’m still going to eat you!”

“Please, just leave me alone! This is supposed to be a safe place. Just… Just go away!”

The voice bellowed out from right behind him, “Die!”

Jack nearly had a heart attack. He jumped around and stared Bobby Badger right in his big, scary eyes. “Please, don’t eat me! I’m scared! There I said it! I’m scared!”

Bobby laughed and pushed the bunny over. “You should have seen your face! It was priceless!”

The poor bunny was panting out his sorrows; he was thoroughly unable to calm himself down. Bobby growled and asked, “You haven’t told anyone about me, have you?!”

Jack quivered, “No! No one! I promise!”

“If you do, you’ll regret it!”

“I won’t!”

The badger poked him roughly in the chest and jeered, “You’re nothing but a nothing, you little twerp! Someday, when you’re older, I’m gonna eat you for real!”

The poking was pretty bad, and the threatening remarks did not make it feel any better. Jack was completely at the badger’s mercy–which seemed to be the case even when he was at home. He coughed and tried to swat the large badger paws away. “Agh! Stop it! That really hurts, Bobby! Please, stop!”

The badger did anything but stop. In fact, he poked even harder. “Why don’t you make me?! Hey, why don’t you tell me your name again! I love hearing it!”

“No!”

Bobby jabbed into the bunny’s chest even harder. “Tell me your name!”

The bunny screamed out, “Ow! Okay! Okay! It’s Jack!”

“Jack who?!”

The bunny’s eyes filled with tears. “Jack… Rabbit. My name is Jack Rabbit.”

Bobby broke out into a fit of laughter. “I still can’t believe your mother would be that stupid! It’s like you don’t even have a name. She’s just calling you what you are! You really are a nothing! You don’t even have a name!”

Jack silently cried to himself as he lay there. The whole thing was as humiliating as it could be, but unfortunately, it was nothing new. This is what he always had to deal with, and it was all he thought about regardless of where he was. Jack took the chance to run away. He could hear Bobby calling to him from behind, “Remember, Jack Rabbit! You’re a nothing! Nothing but a nothing!”

Jack sat under a tree. His friends were there, but he was too upset to play. The only things on his mind were those final words, “Nothing but a nothing.” He knew that it was a lie. He knew that Bobby was just trying to make him feel terrible. But despite that, he could not help but wonder if it was true.

Of course, he thought about telling someone. There were a lot of bigger or older rabbits that could do something to stop Bobby. Jack was just too scared. Even though it was ridiculous, it always felt like Bobby was always there watching for him to slip up. All the help in the world would be useless if he was already dead.

What was he to do? He was just a little rabbit. Jack felt terrible, and he saw no end in sight. Was this how it was always going to be? The rabbit sat there and cried, for in that moment, he really felt like a nothing.

-Author Notes-

This parable was more of a vent. I never had to deal with bullying in my school; they were way too strict for it to ever happen. Still, I saw what was happening on the TV and heard about it from others, and it made me pretty angry. The cases that especially reached me were the ones involving suicides. I am sure that–at some level–those poor kids believed all the bad things those bullies said. That particular aspect was what this story focused on.

-----

Check out my ebook "Wild" available for free at Barnes and Noble! Just CLICK HERE!

Rodent Spotlight: Chinchilla

Today, I am going to begin with the fiction portion of the blog for a very special reason. Back in 2004, I was an amateur artist trying to make stories with cute little comics. One of those comics was based on a dream I had, and I called it "Animal Daycare." The idea was a group of baby animals meeting together at a daycare facility. There actually was not very much story to be found in these strips; however, the fun of it was found in the character known as Poncho.

Poncho was a baby chinchilla who was exceptionally nervous. He was prone to passing out if anything at all startled or upset him. When I first drew him, I did not know much about the creature he was inspired by. I winged it. Looking back, he really does not look very much like a real chinchilla; although, I think the tail is pretty close.

Now, here is where things get weird. Before I write these blogs, I always do a hefty bit of research into the species so that I can get my facts together. It may actually be the first time I truly sat down and researched the chinchilla. What I found made me very happy. As it turns out, I created Poncho's personality with accidental, yet flawless, precision.

Chinchillas are the very definition of timid. They are easily surprised and shocked, and they tend to be disturbed by anything that seems out of the ordinary. When they are especially stressed, they can go into convulsions for a brief time--this is similar to how Poncho would occasionally pass out. I can imagine a chinchilla enthusiast would have been impressed with how I designed him--even though I invented his personality entirely off of a dream. Maybe, I'm psychic!

The sad thing about Chinchillas is that the very thing that makes them cute is also something very bad. Their nervous natures are the reason they are very swiftly becoming extinct. It all has to do with an inability to cope with a very dangerous and cruel world. It also doesn't help that their fur is considered quite valuable. Chinchillas may be small but their fur grows out so long that that it makes each one of the poor little guys an easy target. I can't help but feel bad for them.

Later in my endeavors as an artist and writer, I teamed up with Coy Fields II and made two comic books entitled "Hollow Glen." For no reason whatsoever, I made Poncho a main character--a sheriff deputy no less. It was the same chinchilla from "Animal Daycare," but now we had a chance to expand on his character in some wonderful ways. He was still timid, he was still nervous, and he still passed out on cue; however, he now had a part in an amazing mystery in a very strange town. I do plan to continue that story someday, and I am sure I will have a fun time writing all the Poncho scenes more than any other. It is especially fun knowing he resembles the proper rodent so much. Rodents are often stereotyped as timid, but chinchillas will always be the real deal.

Thank you for reading this blog. If you enjoyed it, you can leave a comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Also, you can read the Poncho comics by clicking the links below. Adiós!

-Poncho Comics-

Animal Daycare
Hollow Glenn Issue #1
Hollow Glenn Issue #2

Pride

"Pride" by T.K. Wade (From the pages of "Wild.")

Richard was relaxed. He felt the grass between his claws as he idly drug them across the ground. He gazed up slightly at the friendly sun. It was hot but pleasant all the same. It was brief moments of peace like this that could really raise a lion’s disposition.

The cool wind that blew through his fur, the distant sounds of wildlife… it was things of that nature that made him smile. There was no reason to move; all he had to do was lay there and relax–just let the whole day pass him by with no troubles in the world. That is, until he would hear those familiar paw-steps coming his way.

Richard grumbled and turned his head away from the offending sounds. The stark voice of his mate blared out at him with all the charm of a dying cicada, “Of course. It’s so typical! Lying down on his fat ass again, while I’m off working all day! Just typical!”

The husband groaned and covered his ears. “I need the rest, Nancy! I have the entire pride lands to worry about!”

“Oh, far be it for me to interrupt such an important session of you worrying! Lord knows, we’d all be doomed if even one of your muscles were suddenly to move!”

Richard grumped to himself as he stood up. “All right, I’m up. Are you happy now?!”

“Yeah, I’m happy. I spent all day waiting for that one glorious moment when my dear and wonderful husband would… stand up! Help me drag dinner over, would you?”

Richard was shocked. “You mean you didn’t bring it up the hill?”

“Oh, then forgive me. I spent half the day trying to find and kill one. Where are my manners?”

“Hey, you act like you do all of the work! My life isn’t sunshine and roses either, Nancy! I’ve got hardships too! In case you haven’t noticed, I just happen to be king around here! That’s a lot of pressure!”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “King, my ass. I do all the work around here.”

“Killing food is women’s work! Leave the important stuff to the man!”

She scoffed and walked passed him. “You men are all the same! You sit at home and do nothing all day, and you actually think you’ve done something! Do you wanna know what happened to me today?!”

Richard asked under his breath, “If I say ‘no,’ are you still gonna tell me?”

Nancy cursed under her breath and went on to say, “I was trying to kill an antelope for you, and two of those damn hyenas came by and nearly took the thing from me! I could have been killed!”

Richard thought about that for a moment. He then asked, “The antelope wasn’t torn up too bad, was it?”

Nancy could only glare at him. Only a moment later did he realize why. He groaned and turned away from her. “As if I wasn’t in constant danger.”

“Oh, I have no doubt that everyone in the pride lands would love to steal your noble title of furry lump.”

“Are you gonna get me my damn food or not?!”

“Get it yourself!”

“Maybe, I will! Maybe, I’ll do it just to get away from your nagging for one second in my life!”

“Go on! See what it’s like to actually do something for a change!”

Richard made his way down the hill. His grumblings were full of various swear words that are too inappropriate to mention. Was this all there was to life: a job that was not going anywhere and a wife that would never shut up? It seemed to Richard that there just had to be more to all this than what he was given.

In the distance, he spotted Pauline. She was a pretty lioness that always seemed to have an eye for him. It was true that he had thought about it many times but never had the guts to go through with it.

The voice from the hill cried out, “Hurry up and get that carcass up here, you lazy good-for-nothing!”

Richard winced and decided to do as told. Something told him that if he did cheat on her, he would be dead within a few days.

-Author Notes-

I got this idea after seeing an episode of “The Honeymooners.” I had also recently found out that the female lion is the one that does all the hunting, while the male is just happy to remain at home and eat the food. I actually find this scenario relevant with humans as well. Imagine a man in a reclining chair. He has a beer in his right hand, and he does little more than watch TV while the wife does all the cooking and cleaning. Confronted with his laziness, he will come up with every excuse in the book to avoid the real issue. Lions fit this scenario flawlessly.

-----

Check out my ebook "Wild" available for free at Barnes and Noble! Just CLICK HERE!

Rodent Spotlight: Harvest Mouse

Ah! The harvest mouse! Behold one of the tiniest mice in all the world. Also known as the European Dwarf Mouse, this little guy sees things from a very minuscule perspective. Mice are already known for being exceptionally small, but these guys win the prize at 6cm from head to tail.

There is something quite endearing about the harvest mouse. If you ever met one, you might take note about how affectionate they can be. If I was that small, I'd wanna make friends with anyone I could. You know what they say about friends in high places. Being so small can seem lonely. You'd have to live in those paws to understand what I mean.

Imagine if I was a harvest mouse named Sesame. I would spend much of my time staying inside of a little hidy-hole. When the world is so big, it's a very hard thing to build up the courage to face it. But staying indoors is okay. I have two other harvest mice who are my friends. There's Speck who trembles a lot, and also, there is Pinch who likes to talk about all the scary things in the world. It makes him feel better. We three are inseparable and love each other very much. We even like to twist our tails together to let each other know we are close by.

I can't even imagine being alone. Sometimes I have to go out into the world to look for food. I feel like one little pebble in a rushing stream that is just trying so hard to take me away. I always wondered why it had to be this way. Friends as small as me are hard to come by. There are, of course, insects to talk to, but I always end up eating them on accident.

There are days... There are days when I sit at the entrance to my hidy-hole with Speck and Pinch looking up at all the trees, and I wonder where it all ends. It doesn't seem to end. Speck doesn't think it does, but I do wonder. When the world is so big, it still somehow feels like it has you trapped. It's like everything around you is trying to step on you. I really do like being in my hidy-hole.

I'm not sure anyone will ever write about us. I don't even think they know we are here. Maybe, they do. If they did, I'd sure love it if they'd write our story. Maybe someday, people will notice us and make sure we don't come to any harm. If a human tried to make friends with me, I wouldn't mind. But until that day, I'm just gonna sit here in my hidy-hole with Speck and Pinch and imagine of less oppressive times--like a world where everything is as big as we are. It's okay to dream.

Thank you for reading this blog. If you enjoyed it, you can comment below, or you can email me at tooie@tooiekangaroo.com. Squeak.