Meet Chum. He would love to go for a swim with you, especially if you have any treats! 🙂
The shark cruised the turquoise water, sunlight rippling through the waves to the soft sand below. A small school of silvery fish stirred up a cloud in the warm, shallow waters by the reef, but the shark turned away from them.
Meet Gulper. He’s the biggest, most easy-going fish in the sea. All he wants in life is to drift through nice sunny waters. He’d love it if you joined him for a swim, and you’re welcome to hitch a ride on his fin. 🙂
Dr. Pete Diggle checked the mail this morning, and he showed me a letter with a very interesting question…
Meet Elmer. He’s a little shy, and likes staying in his comfort zone, but he’ll be your best giant friend if you give him some greens and a big hug.
The best way to a dino’s heart is through his stomach, as they say… Continue reading
Meet Skippy. Seven inches of pure ferocity, stouthearted loyalty, and sheer tenacity! No stair is too tall, no living room too large! This little guy will skip after any cricket you toss for him.
He basked in the warmth of the sun, armored scales like a double row of polished stones. Eyes closed, mouth open with glistening teeth, he listened to the stillness. He could hear the distant calls of flying creatures as they gossiped about their day, the faint rustling of a summer breeze through scraggy conifer branches high above, the scratching chirp of a far away insect. The beating of wings. Continue reading
Meet Alfred. The lion of the Jurassic! The prince of the Mesozoic! The…oh, there he goes after another butterfly. All he needs to be happy in life is his food, his chew toy, and a nice long nap.
Alfred looked up, head cocked to one side so that one yellow eye focused on a shimmering red box against the concrete wall of his paddock. He sat heavily on his haunches, watching the glinting snowflakes in the sunshine, and blinked in surprise when it moved.
Meet Douglas. He’s excited to meet you! This bundle of energy may not be the best of flyers, but he loves to clamber all over things…rocks, trees, the couch, you… 😉
The little girl clung tightly to the small creature, his wings folded close against his furry body. His legs dangled loosely down by her legs, but he didn’t seem to mind. He gazed up at her pink, rounded face with the wide-eyed curiosity of a bird as she chattered about lizards and the rough bark on the pine trees that bordered the fenced backyard.
Meet Picasso. This quiet softie loves spending time with his special person. Snuggling under the tree to hear a good story? That sounds like a lovely way to spend a warm afternoon. 🙂
He could see her across the field with his keen, yellow eyes. A fence separated him from her as she rested beneath the shade of a tall, prickly cycad palm. Was that a hint of rosy pink wattles? A flash of golden eyes beneath the soft brown of the half-moon crest that crowned her delicate white head? He wasn’t sure, but a gentleman must always look his best in front of a lady, so he arched his long neck and raised his scaly tail.
Meet Opie. He’s a happy little fella who loves to curl up in your lap, so it’s a good thing he’s about the size of a big dog!
Sunlight streamed through the tangled layers of conifer branches and cycad fronds to pierce the eternal twilight of the undergrowth. A cloud of tiny, reflective wings coiled like mist in the shaft of light, the thin whine of their hanging flight almost drowned by the whirring, buzzing, drumming, chirping of countless other unseen insects. Alien cries from leather-winged creatures called from above, answered and challenged by a cacophony of voices that clicked, whooped, hollered, whistled…any and every sound fighting to be heard through air so dense with foliage and humidity, constant moisture clung to the leaves and dripped to the black forest floor.
Meet Rosie. She’s a bit shy, and might need a little encouragement to come closer. A few treats should do the trick. Before you know it she’ll be perfectly content to snuggle close and put her head on your lap. 🙂
Patricia rested a hand on the sturdy gate and squinted, the other hand shading her eyes from the morning sun glinting through the underbrush. Was that a shadowy, two-legged figure, or just one of the cycad fronds blowing in the breeze? She scanned the small paddock, fumbling with the gate latch blindly for a moment before looking down to thumb the pin back and unhook the chain.
“Alright, where are you Rosie,” she murmered as she swung the gate open. The paddock was not very large, but the small shed in the corner was dark and empty, and nothing stirred in the grove of thick cycads surrounding it- like thick, stumpy palm trees, but pricklier. Of course. Rosie had to be hiding there.