I want everyone to know that I am writing this roughly 14 hours after the previous write-up. If you didn’t read that unhinged diatribe of mayhem and joy, I spent 15 hours on the road yesterday and wrote the article over the span of a mere 3 hours.
I thought that I would pass out the second I was second. I was wrong. I was awake until 1:30 in the morning; I was up for 23 and a half hours because I was riding a bipolar-induced high from the frenetic writing I did (which I mentioned in the conclusion of the write-up).
Thankfully, melatonin was there to save the day—albeit less than I usually take. That’s likely why I went to bed later than I should have, but oh well. It took a while, but I did sleep for nine hours. It was nice and comfy underneath my blanket. It was less nice and comfy in my borderline fever-dream-infested mind.
It was even less nice when I woke up.
Holy crap, I woke up with the worst headache imaginable. It felt like a gorilla was using my head as a punching bag. I have no idea if I caught something over the holidays or if it’s just the lack of proper sleep, but it feels like Death took a holiday in my skull.
Normally, that would be grounds for not writing and instead resting so I get better. However, as my friends will tell you, I do not understand the concept of “getting proper rest” when I am sick. Why is that? Because I get highly irritable and restless when I am not doing something.
That means it’s time for “Physically Unwell Storytime with Vertigo,” presented by a bottle of Tylenol. So, what’s today’s story? What do I, a man who feels like utter trash, have in store for you, dear reader?
Something that gives me a headache on its own.
This case was on the cusp of being axed because I simply wasn’t sure if I felt like covering another cryptid case. But then I realized that might be a good way to exert the frustration I’m feeling from the headache. So, come along; take a seat outside of my plastic bubble while I tell you about The Red-Furred… Thing.
What, is that an abrupt lead-in to the write-up? So is a rapid-onset of post-Christmas sickness.
Seeing Red
We’re headed back over to About today; it’s time to put the bar Henry and his bent key set to the test! Hey, does this report have a picture or sketch? Uh, nope; I have my glasses on, and I don’t see it. Lemme ask NASA to loan me the James Webb Telescope to see if it’s just really tiny.
Nope, I still don’t see it!
Submitted in April of 2005 by “Anonymous” as “Red-Furred Creature,” this case occurred in “Lampasses, Texas.” I don’t know where that is, but I know Lampasas, Texas, is a place. Keep this in mind, dear reader; you’re going to need to remember it for later.
Given our eyewitness opted to remain anonymous, I’ll refer to them as Bill. According to him, the story took place “about six years ago,” which would put this story in 1999. At that time, Lampasas had a population of 8,019. Lampasses, meanwhile, can’t be found by normal means because it‘s Texas’ Area 51.
Anyway, Bill said he and his family “were walking after a recent rain” on some land they owned. If you’re wondering how old he was at the time, so am I; Bill didn’t specify, so I’m already up a river without a paddle. A word to any and all eyewitnesses out there: If you’re going to opt to remain anonymous when reporting the weird monster you saw, don’t be afraid to give your age. Unless, of course, you’re full of it.
That said, Bill said he and his family “hadn’t been to the area for several months.” To his credit, Bill said he wasn’t certain about this. Unfortunately, this was the only time Bill was open about not being certain of something. Oh well, it was nice to see one story from About where someone was open about their memory being fuzzy.
Bill went on to say that he and his brother—who I’ll call Owen—opted to walk ahead of their parents. Despite this, they “weren’t really talking.” Suddenly, they saw a creature. One that, by Bill’s estimate, was “about 1,000 yards away “914 meters] from the house.” For the record, that’s the length of ten football fields. This thing was quite a ways away.
As for the creature’s appearance, it looked… odd. There’s a reason I didn’t keep the title Bill gave his report; while it sounded like an animal, I’m going to say right now that it doesn’t sound like one that I know of. Instead, it sounds like a mishmash of random things that created the most abominable amalgamation imaginable.
According to Bill, it “stood about the size of an emu on two legs.” For those who don’t know, emus are 5.7 feet (1.73 meters) tall. It also sported “visible red fur.” Out of curiosity, I was wondering if any species of emu had red feathers, and no, they do not.
On its own, that would be pretty weird but explainable as an escaped exotic pet or zoo animal. However, things go from “pretty weird” to “supremely weird” when Bill includes other characteristics of this thing—and I swear that I am not making any of this up.
The two-legged fiend “had antlers like a deer” and a body that was similar to a bird. However, it lacked “wings, feathers, or [a] beak.” I’ll circle back to this later because there could be an explanation for it. However, as it stands, it sounds like some monstrosity from a Resident Evil game. James Marcus must’ve clearly been working overtime.
Upon realizing that it’d been seen, the creature “sprinted off at an amazing speed” and was never seen again by Bill, Owen, or anyone else for that matter because I know of no other reports of a cryptid like this in Texas. This is quite peculiar because Lampasas is a mere 1 hour and 14 minutes from Austin, the third largest city in the state, with over 271,000,000 people living there. However, I will address this in the theories.
Bill rounds his story off by saying that he hasn’t changed his story “in seven years.” Owen hasn’t, either. Weird, I thought the story took place “around six years ago,” not seven; I’ll get back to this later, though.
Even weirder, his parents didn’t notice this bizarre, bird-like creature with one of the most vibrant colors on Earth. Then again, that can be explained by it running off in a direction Bill’s parents wouldn’t have noticed or because they had stopped to talk about upcoming plans. Regardless, I think it’s odd they didn’t take notice of their children acting off because they’d just seem something anomalous.
But, hey, what do I know? I don’t have children; I’d love to be a father one day, but I doubt that will ever come to fruition.
Anyway, with that, Bill’s story comes to an anticlimactic end. Well, of course, it’s About; did you expect a satisfying conclusion?
In all seriousness, I’m going to be honest: I genuinely find this case infuriating. The main reason for that is there are two theories that have it out for each other; one has a very real-world explanation, while the other outright dismisses this story as hogwash. To make matters even worse, I can absolutely see them as being equally likely.
But, hey, why take my word for it? Rather than sit around and drag out the end of the story any longer, let’s leap into the theories and begin talking about them. I’m going to do everything I can to make them as brisk as possible because I want to return to playing Granblue Fantasy Relink; that game is so much fun.
Theories
1. A cryptid
It’s at times like this where I find it absolutely amazing I lack grey hair. The sheer level of stress and exhaustion I feel while writing this is unfathomable. Why? Because what cryptid sounds like the thing Bill and Owen saw!?
I mean, for the love of all that is good in this world, this thing had antlers but resembled a bird. That doesn’t sound like a cryptid. That sounds like some messed up fantasy RPG boss fight. It drops the legendary weapon “Drumstick of the Cockadoodledoo.” I hear it’s the meta weapon in whatever game this is a part of.
On top of that, there were no reports of this thing afterward. It was a “one and done” cryptid sighting. As we all know, that is the gold standard for cryptids. They’re a lot more likely to be discovered when they’re seen once before they leave for their hometown of Doveland, Wisconsin.
Boy, there’s a story that I need to write about. God willing, I will do it before the turn of the decade. Yes, a part of me plans that far ahead. Why? Because it motivates me never to stop pursuing the thing I love the most (which is writing; big shock, I know).
The only thing I can think of that comes close to this freakish abomination is the Deer Man, a creature who I’ve brought up several times but never spoken about in any meaningful detail because I’ve never looked into it much beyond briefly skimming a few pages. What little I know is that it’s a humanoid with the head of a stag, complete with antlers.
Really, the numerous “Wendigo” stories you’ve heard on YouTube are using the description of the Deer Man, who, I think, may have some roots in Native American folklore. However, I cannot say this with any level of certainty.
That said, the Deer Man lacks a body that resembles a bird. Also, if this resembled an emu, then it likely wasn’t humanoid. If it was, Bill didn’t convey that well. Quite the opposite, really; I would say he worded it horrendously because when I think of an emu, I do not think of the Deer Man. I think of a bird and a car from the Saints Row games.
Nevertheless, I suppose there’s always room for another mind-boggling cryptid that emerged from some dimensional overlap for a bit. If that’s the case, then chalk this up to that. However, as it stands, the lack of additional sightings of something like this hamstrings the theory way too much.
With that, I want to move on to the rationalization theories. I know that I could get all conspiratorial, but I am writing this during the night while I’m sick. I think it would be a whole lot wiser if I just stuck to the theories that mattered as opposed to padding the word count. I also still have a monstrous headache and feel like I may end up becoming one of yesterday’s Headless Aliens. So come along; let’s keep the momentum going.
2. An escaped ostrich
Here’s a fun fact: Male ostriches develop red necks and legs during breeding season. Take a look below.
Hmm, now, isn’t that just odd?
Three paragraphs in, and I think you can already see how strong of a theory this is. However, allow me to add one last thing to hammer home the point before we get to where things fall apart. Earlier this year, in May of 2024, over 130 ostriches were lost after large-scale flooding in Valley Mills, Texas. Some were, unfortunately, found deceased, and I have no idea if any are still missing. If they are, I really hope they didn’t cause any trouble to the local ecosystem.
On top of this, there was a “collapse” of the aforementioned “ostrich industry” in 1997. If a farmer opted to let his ostrich (or ostriches) loose around that time, this might’ve been one that was panicked due to its unfamiliar environment.
When it saw Bill and Owen, it ran off and headed elsewhere. Maybe it was found, maybe it died, or maybe it was captured. I, sadly, don’t know because I lack a subscription to a newspaper archiving site. I know, I really need to fix that; don’t remind me.
That said, it’s possible it wasn’t reported because the person (or people) who owned it lacked a permit. It’s not unheard of for people to illegally own exotic pets for one reason or another, and this may be why Bill and Owen didn’t get an answer about what they saw. The media never caught wind of it because no one knew the animal was loose.
Additionally, there’s the matter of his parents. There’s a chance his parents did see it but didn’t raise a fuss about it because they’d seen stray emus and ostriches before. Apparently, this is why the “industry” crashed; people were sick of feral emus blocking roads. Only in Texas could something like this happen.
If we’re to go based on those aspects alone, this theory is incredibly likely. However, there are a multitude of issues. Some can be brushed off, while others are outright impossible to know because Bill provided us with no information.
Let’s start off with the smallest issue: The height of the creature Bill and Owen saw. Male ostriches are not 5.7 feet tall. They can range from 6.9 to a staggering 9.2 feet (2.1 to 2.8 meters) in height. Female ostriches, meanwhile, can be between 5.6 and 6.6 feet (1.7 to 2.0 meters) tall.
Now, granted, the distances may have caused the ostrich to appear a bit smaller than it was (I’m not exactly the best when it comes to how perspective can affect one’s perception of how small or large something is). However, given Bill estimated the animal to be 1,000 yards away, I’m inclined to believe it may have appeared a bit smaller.
There’s also the matter of how long ago it took place. While Bill and Owen may not have changed their story, he may have misremembered the height. Six (or seven, more on that in the next theory) years is more than enough time for one’s memory to become fuzzy. Trust me on me! I can barely remember the past month.
“But wait!” cries that voice from the aether who I want to throw soda cans at. “What if it was a younger ostrich?”
Well, according to Bing, ostriches typically start mating when they’re 4 years old. Meanwhile, they’re fully grown in a mere 18 months. I’m not an ornithologist, so I don’t know the ins and outs of ostriches, but I doubt it was a younger ostrich.
Still, I’m willing to blame perspective and the passage of time for that. What I can’t quite explain are the antlers. That detail is extremely difficult for me to rationalize without things working very specifically.
It’s possible the ostrich got some twigs or brush caught on its head. It’s also possible that it was standing in front of some tree branches that gave it the illusion of having antlers. However, Bill didn’t specify where they were; we don’t know if it was a farmstead, suburban area, or somewhere else.
It’s also possible that sprinting off created another illusion, but this seems less likely. So, really, you can argue that I’m reaching really far with this aspect. Alternatively, you can agree with me, thereby reinforcing my belief that I am right in assuming that this was an ostrich!
“Hold the phone!” the same voice interrupts like an uncouth plebeian. “What about the lack of wings, feathers, and a beak?”
Again, Bill and Owen were an estimated 1,000 yards away. We don’t know what time of day it was, nor do we know the duo had the best eyesight. I’m sorry, but there have been times when I’ve failed to notice details on some animals when they were maybe 50 feet away from me because I didn’t have my glasses on. I can’t imagine seeing every detail on an animal that was ten football fields away from me.
It’s also possible the ostrich was malnourished and had lost a great deal of feathers. Not everyone cares for their animals properly; this may have been one such instance.
Nevertheless, I do think the flaws with this theory do hold it back from being the absolute truth. To suggest otherwise would be disingenuous; I don’t know the full history of the ostrich and emu industries of Texas around this time, and I don’t want to make too many assumptions.
At the same time, I do think it’s the strongest theory. However, there’s another one that stands reasonably well on its own, and I think it’s about time we get to it. Come along, dear reader, before my headache drives me up a wall.
3. A hoax
Okay, right off the bat, there are two things that—in my eyes—seriously help this theory. The first is that Bill somehow misspelled “Lampsas” as “Lampasses.” This could be a genuine mistake; I’ve made my fair share of typos. Heck, I’m sure there are plenty of them throughout this month’s write-ups that Grammarly didn’t catch. It happens; not everyone is perfect.
That said, if Bill’s family had property in the area, I find it really weird that he didn’t know how to spell it—unless he submitted the report when he was still young. That isn’t implausible; plenty of stories were sent in by people who said they were still in middle school.
However, the thing that makes me even more suspicious is that Bill said that the incident took place “about six years ago.” Then, by the end, he says he hadn’t “changed his story in seven years.” While I understand if this seems like a nitpick, it’s a little thing that bothers me greatly. Which is it, Bill? Did it happen six years ago? Or was it seven?
Of course, it’s possible that Bill made a mistake or wasn’t paying attention. I’ve made mistakes in the past due to a lack of sleep or because I wasn’t paying attention. So, I won’t lambaste Bill entirely. However, I still think it’s suspicious.
One other thing that’s going in this theory’s favor—as far as a creature that resembles this goes—is that there’s nothing else from the area.
Allow me to elaborate: As far as reports of an unidentified creature go, there is nothing like this from Texas. Not that I know of, anyway. Stray emu and ostriches? Yes. However, as far as antlered, red-furred, bird-like abominations, there’s nothing out there. This is a one-of-a-kind cryptid that only Bill and Owen saw.
That does help lend credence to the previous theory, but I’d argue it also helps this one, too. So, a 2-for-1 deal!
The last thing I’ll bring up is that Bill didn’t submit a sketch. I can and will raise this point every single time I cover a story from About now. Thank you, Henry! Like I said, you’ve made my job a thousand times harder. Have you stubbed your toe against that table yet!?
Anyway, let me move on to what works against this theory. Or, rather, what little works against it.
As per the norm, I cannot think of any incentive to fabricate this story since, as far as I can tell, About didn’t allow for comments. However, after finding out you could send in photos, I’m inclined to wonder if I’m just blind and haven’t found them.
The only major thing that’s going against it is that this creature sounds ridiculous! Setting aside the similarities to an ostrich, taking the description at face value makes it sound like someone fused a cardinal, emu, and deer together. It’s an abomination unto God’s Earth, and I think it may or may not have been birthed from the depths of Hell itself.
I say we purge it.
In all seriousness, I cannot imagine typing up this report and going, “This is definitely going to fool people.” It’s like The Oviedo Dick Monster. It’s so laughable that it’s hard to believe that someone could truly buy into it.
Maybe I’m being too harsh due to my headache, or maybe I’m failing to see some underlying satirical motive. It wouldn’t be the first time something obvious has gone over my head. A lot of things do.
Ultimately, I think this one falls squarely on whether or not you think the previous theory holds the answers to the case. If you don’t, then I can see this one as the one you subscribe to. Anyway, let’s move on to the meme theory; I put a whole few seconds of thought into it!
4. Interdimensional roadkill that came back to life because of my sheer force of will
After 29 uses of this theory this month, I have finally done it. I’ve retroactively created the ultimate life form. It may not be Shadow the Hedgehog, but it’s close enough! I think. I never cared for the Sonic the Hedgehog games.
My Take
Originally, I had pondered if I should go through a whole list of theories as I have for a lot of this month. However, given that only two theories had anything going for them, I’m racing the clock like I’m Dale Earnhardt, Sr., and that horrific headache I have won’t leave me alone, I opted for only a few.
As for where I stand, I think this was an escaped ostrich. Despite the shortcomings of the theory, it fits the bill the best for it. I can chalk up the eccentricities of the creature’s description to the passage of time distorting Bill and Owen’s memories—and, if they happened to be young, their imaginations.
Seriously, not knowing how old Bill and Owen were at the time makes it extremely difficult to know how reliable their word is. If they were children, then it’s definitely likely they saw an ostrich and thought it was some sort of horrifying monster.
Meanwhile, if they were teenagers or adults, then I’d be inclined to say it was a mixture of the passage of time and the aforementioned tree branches that I proposed.
Of course, this is just my take. I’d say this has a higher-than-average chance of being a hoax, too. After all, the fact Bill misspelled Lampasas’s name and changed how many years prior the story took place makes me a bit skeptical. Could they have been honest mistakes? Absolutely, but I don’t know Bill, and I won’t back down from that.
What? Don’t act surprised; I can have concrete stances from time to time!
Conclusion
My head hurts.
My head hurts a lot.
I don’t know how much of that pain came from the story, but I’m sure at least a bit of it did—and I am not happy about it. But, hey, at least only two stories remain. Thankfully, tomorrow’s story is going to be one that will be a lot more fun—and it’s one I teased earlier this month. What is it? Come back tomorrow to find out because I refuse to spoil it.
Until then, I want to know what you think Bill and Owen saw that fateful day. Was it an ostrich? A cryptid? Or did Bill make it up for laughs because he was bored? Let me know in the comments, and, as always, stay happy, stay healthy, and thank you for reading!
And stay away from ostriches. Their kicks can kill a full-grown lion.
Beakless bird sounds like a theropod dinosaur-- they had feathers, which in some cases would have looked like fur. That doesn't explain the antlers though.
ReplyDelete