Afterward, we stayed up late devising a plan as to how we would catch the mythical beast which involved, quite scientifically, the use of large nets and a tranq dart. We were big enough dorks in our tender pre-teen years to visualize the spread National Geographic would offer us when we had better evidence to offer than this:
Before the cold hard reality of rational skepticism kicks in (and this is by no means a blanket personality trait), most people tend to believe in the odd and unknown at some point in their lives. It's fun, for even a brief moment, to let go of everything you feel compelled to follow and say, "What the hell. No one has actually caught a Yeti so it might as well be me who finds him first."
At the age of 26, I no longer believe that Nessie lurks in a murky Scottish lake or that Bigfoot is terrorizing campers equipped with bad camera skills. The lack of actual evidence is almost too overwhelming, too improbable. How many times are these beasts almost caught or barely seen? Surely someone...somewhere...but no. These fearsome urban legends only continue to stalk our imaginations and make for fun internet memes.
I had all but given up on any truth until my boss walked into work today, declaring he was terrified of the chupacabra captured in nearby Prince George's County. I balked at him before suggesting he keep Puggle the dog locked up inside so he wouldn't get eaten.
"You can't be serious," I said.
"Oh, I am. Have you seen that thing?"
"It'll be waiting for you when you get home."
"I'll shoot it."
"With what? You don't even own a gun."
"My fists. My fists of fury."
All kidding aside, the thing, whatever it was, can be seen in this video:
My first reaction was, "Ugh! It's hideous! But ohhh...it looks so scared, the poor thing." My boss was less kind, declaring it his greatest fear as they are rumored to drain the blood of their victims and that I should be afraid...very afraid. Coming from a six-foot-two former Marine, I considered if my complete lack of fear was wrong. I stared at the hairless fox-like giant rat again, wondering how much damage such a thing could actually do. My guess? Not much.
The most probable explanation for the chupacabra legend are coyotes riddled with a parasitic infection. Scientists at the University of Michigan theorized this as recently as 2010. Our dog had mange several years ago and it wasn't pretty, so I can relate to just how awful and uncomfortable this can make a fuzzy critter look.
I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where everyone believed everything just because it COULD exist. Where no one experienced a drop of doubt until definitive proof landed in their proverbial laps. We'd probably sit around all day smoking weed and discussing the odds of a leprechaun-zombie war, wearing "What Would Justin Bieber Do?" t-shirts while the Beatles played and people stocked their pantries full of canned goods for the upcoming apocalypse. No one would work because money wasn't important. Clothes would be optional if they were ever invented at all. People would only buy houses with chimneys for Santa and sleep with an aspen stake beside their bed and never *ever* summon Bloody Mary three times in front of a dark bathroom mirror since she then stood a legitimate chance of coming to steal your soul.
Perhaps Buddy the Elf, ironically, puts logic best:
Gimbel's Manager: [showing Buddy around the floor] This, is the North Pole.
Buddy: No it isn't.
Gimbel's Manager: Yes it is.
Buddy: No it isn't.
Gimbel's Manager: Yes it is!
Buddy: No it's not. Where's the snow?
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