KIDS IN ACTION |
By Kathleen M. Muldoon
People around my state of Texas are excited. A woman claims to have found the body of a genuine chupacabra. What’s that, you ask? You don’t know what a chupacabra is? I didn’t either, until I moved to San Antonio and began hearing tales of this strange beast. Although they were first spotted by sheep farmers in Puerto Rico, the nighttime creatures seem to have migrated to Mexico and parts of the United States.
I’ve never seen a chupacabra (it’s pronounced choo-puh-KAA-bruh), except for its image on T-shirts. But those who have seen one describe it as the size of a small bear and a cross between a hairless dog, rat, and kangaroo. It is said to prowl at night, attacking and drinking the blood of livestock. Yuck. I saw photos of the chupacabra corpse the rancher found on her land. To me it looked like a giant, purple, hairless rat. Scientists who have examined it insist it’s merely a dead coyote with a bad case of mange.
Still, stories of the chupacabra abound. Texas and other western states are also famous for another legendary creature, the jackalope, a giant rabbit that has the horns and speed of an antelope. Stories about the jackalope are even more fun than those about chupacabras, because jackalopes love to play tricks on tourists. The government of one small Wyoming town has joined in on the fun by selling jackalope hunting licenses to gullible visitors.
Our chupacabras and jackalopes got me interested in exploring the legendary creatures of other states. Two of my favorites are the coonigator and the batsquatch. The coonigator of Vermont is said to be a large raccoon-like creature, but its face is that of an alligator. You have to camp in the woods at midnight to see one, though, because coonigators only prowl at night and seem to especially target campground dumpsters.
Now, the batsquatch is probably the oddest looking of the legendary creatures. It lurks around the mountains in Washington and is said to look like a purple-skinned primate with the wings of a pterodactyl, blood red eyes, and the head of a giant bat. Yikes! One mountain climber took photographs of the beast. Although the batsquatch doesn’t appear to be homicidal, nearby ranchers have blamed it for the disappearance of livestock as large as hogs and cows.
Of course, upon reading of these fantastical creatures, my writer’s brain wanted to create one of my own, so I did. I call it the “armayote.” It is about the size of a coyote and looks something like them, except instead of fur, armayotes have bands of dull gold circling their bodies from neck to base of the tails. Their pinkish whiskered snouts give them the look of overgrown armadillos. Armayotes don’t want to harm humans, but if humans try to harm them, armayotes always win. They run and howl like coyotes and burrow and walk under water like armadillos.
Have you heard of any strange critters roaming your state? If not, do some research and see if any sightings have been reported. If you can’t uncover any such legendary animals, why not invent of your own? Decide what it will look like, where it dwells, and who or what should beware of your creature. Draw a picture of it and give it a name. Who knows? You might invent the next chupacabra. Action readers would love to learn of your critter, either through a written description or a picture or both. E-mail these (not the creature!) to action@unitedspinal.org or mail it to:
KIDS IN ACTION
United Spinal Association
75-20 Astoria Boulevard
Jackson Heights, NY 11370-1177
In the meantime, beware the chupacabra—and the armayotes.
Kathleen M. Muldoon is a children’s book author and writing instructor for the Institute of Children’s Literature. She lives in San Antonio, Texas.
