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“Revelatory... Harris's sly wit and infectious curiosity make understanding world chaos fascinating... witty, horrific, and necessary.”
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Main  Pudu Pudu, tiny deer from Perudu, always in a good moodu, cuz he know more than youdu 
This site's mascot, the pudu (actual species name: pudu pudu) is the world's tiniest deer, a two-foot-tall little ungulate with big wide eyes and a body that resembles a Vienna sausage balanced on four wobbly toothpicks.
Imagine a full-grown deer whose nose is at the height of your shins, peering up at you timidly and hoping you might give it a mulberry leaf to chew. That's a pudu.
Pudus have no natural defenses to speak of. When threatened, pudus
usually try to find a log to hide behind or possibly climb. This works
about as well as it sounds like. Overall, they're endangered and they look like they know it.
Not surprisingly, pudus are losing their habitat, like lots of wonderful species are. So enjoy them while they're here.
PS -- Pudus aren't really from Peru; they're from Chile and Argentina. But those don't rhyme with "pudu" as well as "Perudu."
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Pudu
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Tuesday, 29 July 2008 |
OK, it's not Friday, but this just dearly needs to be seen by ungulate lovers.
Two more videos of mooses playing in sprinklers can be found here.
This Internet is a strange device.
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Pudu
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Sunday, 27 July 2008 |
Because underneath, they look just like tall blades of grass. You'd never be able to see them.
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Pudu
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Friday, 20 June 2008 |
Not a pudu, but related. One morning last May, a Texan named Mike came across a newborn fawn whose mother had just been killed by a car. He couldn't leave the fawn to die, and with no better idea, he just scooped it up, took it home, and he and his wife have been caring for it ever since.
If you need to say "awwwww" and feel overwhelmed with the tiny, I urge you to click over and take in the whole story.
I have the same concerns you do about how this all turns out, but the couple seem to have been in frequent touch with wildlife professionals, and they're gonna do their best to help prepare the little guy survive in the wild when the time comes.
Link found via CuteOverload. |
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Pudu
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Friday, 16 May 2008 |
Okay, not really a mutant or a ninja. But a teenage pudu, nonetheless. About one foot tall.
Note the second pudu in the distance, relaxing. May your whole weekend be spent in some shady grass somewhere just like this.
Photo taken at Fernando's hideaway, the most peaceful place on this earth. |
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Pudu
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Friday, 09 May 2008 |
"You know the Guanaco?" Fernando asked on the phone. "It is like a South American camel. You will love the Guanaco."
Sure enough, another awesome Andean animal. Good natured, lovely, generally friendly, a bit batty. These females all came bouncing out curiously at the sound of Fernando's truck.
It was like being surrounded by a gaggle Red Hat Ladies, all of whom want to kiss you on the cheek at once.
You must love and support Fauna Andina, Fernando's hideaway. I insist on it. |
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Friday, 02 May 2008 |
Horniest little pudu you may ever see. And smiling about it, too.
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Friday, 25 April 2008 |
Long time since I've pudublogged. Pudublog backlog. I must catalog. Meanwhile, camouflag:
Sometimes it's hard to see the pudu for the forest.
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Pudu
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Friday, 29 February 2008 |
How do pudus celebrate Leap Day?
By leaping forward and taking a piece of apple out of your hand, obviously.
Photo taken at Fauna Andina, smack dab in the Valdivian rain forest, about 300 miles south of Santiago, Chile.
When we get the PayPal thing up to support their preservation efforts, I hope you'll chip in vigorously. The pudus will thank you for it.
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Friday, 08 February 2008 |
Pudu working it for the camera at Fernando's Hideaway in Chile:
Pudu not shy.
PS -- What I call "Fernando's Hideaway" here is actually Fauna Andina, a private reserve that cares for vulnerable and endangered local species in rural Chile. The guy who runs the place, Fernando, may know more about pudus than anyone alive, and one of his favorite hobbies is caring for his tiny flock. (Some were previously mistakenly taken in as pets, which doesn't work; some have been found injured; and others are the offspring of Fernando's prior pudus.)
I'm gonna try to set up a PayPal thing where people who appreciate the pudu can chip in a buck or two to help Fernando keep his pudus healthy and happy. Thanks! |
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Friday, 14 December 2007 |
I'll be in South America for about six or seven more weeks, so I don't know how often I'll be blogging. But I found this place while looking for a room in San Carlos de Bariloche later in the trip.
I like to think there are actual pudus trotting around the front desk. And maybe another pudu with a bellman's cap on, scratching at your luggage.
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Friday, 07 December 2007 |
Travelling again, which is why the blog is not so much with the blogging of late. Hope this makes your Friday better. It certainly made my Wednesday nicer.
That's from a hill called Panecillo ("little loaf of bread") overlooking Quito, Ecuador. You're at almost twice the altitude of Denver, so the air is remarkably thin -- and when it's clear, my camera can't possibly do the colors here justice. (Altitude sickness, just from being here, can be a problem. Fortunately, I live in L.A., so I got over the need for a steady oxygen supply long ago.)
Yesterday, December 6, is the local equivalent of July 4th in the US. This particular year is Quito's 473rd anniversary. It's celebrated with a major festival lasting for several weeks. So major town squares and sometimes whole neighborhoods have been filled with dancing and singing and general merriment since I got here.
Highly recommended.
Plus, the whole downtown is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, filled with magnificent churches, convents, and assorted Spanish colonial stuff, all of it pretty damn gorgeous.
Here's how I've been treated since I got here: last night, I was one of thousands of people crushing together along a major avenue, awaiting the Parade of Sound and Light. Things were delayed, so this was rapidly turning into the Parade of Standing Around Freezing Two Miles in the Air While Surrounded by People With Much Stronger Lungs.
Pretty soon, I'm talking with a local named Paul. Mucho gusto. He introduces me to his wife. And his son. And another son, and two daughters. And some in-laws, I think, and maybe a couple of cousins. Frankly, I lost track. But they practically welcomed me into the family, just standing there on the street, helping me with my jagged Spanish and filling in the words when I couldn't find them.
A few minutes later, Paul asked if I had any friends in Quito. (I don't.) Then, before I could answer, and in all sincerity, he corrected himself: "besides us," he added.
Maybe you had to be there to know that he meant those words, already.
There's a thing that musicians do here after songs, at least during the Fiesta. They lead the crowd in a quick call-and-response: ¡Viva Quito! ¡Viva Ecuador!
So far, I have to agree.
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Thursday, 22 November 2007 |
 In a moment of supreme holiday football-induced delirium, I got it in my head today that somewhere there must be a college called Pudu State, or at least that Pudu State gear would look kinda cool.
Curious, I went to the old CafePress store, which I haven't bothered with in a couple of years, and made up a logo for a sweatshirt for myself.
 Btw, if anyone asks, the team is called the Foraging Ungulates, and the school's official colors are ecru, buff, and khaki. Other teams in the conference include Duiker College, Muntjac University, Dik-Dik School of Cosmetology, and Klipspringer A&M.
And I may have eaten too much tryptophan today.
Still, there might be between five and fifty readers of this site who might want something similar as an odd impulse gift of their own, especially with the holiday shopping season bearing down on us all. So, what the heck — CafePress made it ridiculously easy to proliferate the idea across all sorts of interesting swag. Consider the idea shared.
While I was at it, I also tried out the old Robert Indiana tribute Pudu logo, which looks surprisingly cool on handbags, dog T-shirts, and other things I wouldn't have expected.
If anyone actually buys any of this stuff, I'll make a dollar or two on every sale, which I'll put toward this site's monthly upkeep.
I've also put a couple of the old products up, just in case somebody wants a 12-language office clock or a T-shirt that simply says "Impeach."
 Whether or not you click over to the CafePress store and show your alumni pride in the Foraging Ungulate Nation... happy post-Thanksgiving compulsory shopping trauma period, everybody.
PS -- CafePress has a banner ad they want sellers to run for the next few days, shouting about free shipping on orders over $75. But I hate giant banner ads, so here – click away if you like:
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Thursday, 22 November 2007 |
Regular visitors know that I spend a good deal of pudu-related space spewing purest balderdash about the habits of small creatures. This week's absurdity is actually real.
Last week I posted this note about participating in the European Quizzing Championships, which included some of the most lunatic and delightful questions I've ever seen -- one of which asked us to name a kind of civet, common in the Balearic Islands, which marks its territory by doing handstands.
I couldn't answer the question myself. I was too busy giggling at the mental picture, and at the absurd sight of seeing competitors from fifteen countries nonchalantly nodding and writing down their answers, as if handstanding Balearic civets are in no way unexpected or wondrous. Can the world truly be this comfortable with its own weirdness? Apparently so.
Here's our answer, as it appeared on the tournament's big projection screen, and in four languages, no less:
The genet, dear readers, is our little self-inverting anus-gland-exposing gymnastic Mediterranean friend.
What am I thankful for in this year's installment of socially compelled Two Minutes Gratitude? Many, many things. But most of all, to live in a world so strange and magnificent in the first place.
Have a gleeful holiday. If you're in the Balearic Islands, please hug a handstanding civet for me.
(And yes, I know genets don't really like to be hugged. But millions of Americans are getting hugs they don't really want today, too. So think of it as sharing the holiday spirit.) |
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Friday, 02 November 2007 |
We get a lot of questions about pudu maintenance. For example, some people's pudus wobble through corners at high speed.
So how often should a pudu's legs be rotated? Is it better to switch out the front pair with the back, or to rotate them four ways, like with a car?
Generally, you can just switch the front legs with the back legs and get improved mileage and stability. (Above, a pudu in mid-repair.)
With proper care, your pudu should be reliably tiny for many years to come.
Photo by an Argentine named Ricardo Cenzano, whose work I love looking at and who probably has a wonderful life.
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Friday, 12 October 2007 |
Meet Australia's increasingly vulnerable quokka, courtesy my Trebekistan pal Dara (who in turn I think cribbed this guy from Cute Overload):
I've seen quokkas in Aussie zoos several times, but their natural range (the southwest bit of Western Australia) and mine have yet to overlap in the wild. Quokkas may look more like children's plush toys than any other species. They're still found in abundance on Rottnest Island near Perth, which got its name (Dutch for "rat nest") from a 17th century explorer mistaking these fuzzy marsupials for large rats.
Of course, quokkas are much more closely related to the kangaroo. Like everything else in Australia. If Russell Crowe someday slugs a guy in a bar and then bounds away on two giant feet, don't be too surprised.
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Pudu
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Friday, 05 October 2007 |
Go watch some actual footage of a live pudu birth. (Click on "Nacimiento Pudú" and enjoy.)
I have to warn you first, though -- there are three stages in witnessing pudu mulitplication:
Cute!
ICK! Aaaaagh! Ewww!
Cute again! And getting even cuter!
Now that you're warned -- and maybe putting away whatever you're eating for a while -- go for it.
The footage is the work of Fauna Andina, a private organization that works for the conservation and protection of Chilean wildlife, with reproduction and rescue centers tending to all manner of beasties. I gotta go visit these people someday.
By the way, the cheesy elevator music? Not their fault. All pudus naturally give birth with a soundtrack of cheesy elevator music. It helps keep predators at bay during this vulnerable time. Some big cat wanders up, smelling dinner, and next thing you know, it's running away, holding its ears.
So every time you see a predator looking a little confused, like it's trying to get a song out of its head? Somewhere a new pudu has been born. |
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Friday, 28 September 2007 |
The Great Singing Nyala live in the mountains of Ethiopia, where they travel in pairs, munch on wild grasses, and never tire of explaining that they're not really related to the Not So Giant Nyala of South Africa (which can barely hold a tune), but more closely related to the Kudu and other antelope.
Their scientific name comes from their unusual natural defense instincts. When startled, they freeze, then do a charming song-and-dance number, complete with a little soft-shoe thing on their hind trotters. The duo below were photographed just before bursting into song.
Usually, the lyrics go something like this:
Nyala, we're the
Singing Impala,
Ethiopian Kudu,
Giant African Pudu!
(repeat until predators are charmed, dig for spare change, smile, and move on)
I gotta get to East Africa one of these days. (Actually, between everything else, I'm spending some spare time writing questions for a quiz show in Tanzania that a Trebekistan buddy works on. Would love to see a taping. So, you never know.)
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Friday, 21 September 2007 |
As you may have seen mentioned here before, this site's tiny mascot has also been chosen as the symbol of the Chilean version of the One Laptop Per Child movement, which is using these a series of adorable little soft figures as part of the campaign.
Turns out the talented source of this cuteness is named Lizette Greco, and her Flickr set of puduitude is presented in slide show form here. Prepare to want one for yourself.
Thing is, the money you'd spend on it could help put a laptop in a kid's hands. So that would be even cooler and cuter.
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Pudu
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Friday, 14 September 2007 |
Again substituting puffins for pudus, since puffins may be the pudus of the tiny-aquatic-bird world anyway...
Forwarded by alert reader Billie after my Iceland trip, specifically this post about the annual Puffin Rescue on the island of Heimaey:
I just hope the one on the right isn't thinking this is some sort of mating ritual.
Because, well, splinters.
Lots more Iceland stuff I'd like to post if I ever get a minute. In the meantime, if you ever get the chance, just go.
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Friday, 07 September 2007 |
Unbelievable week of sport ahead, personally, given the teams I cheer for. Whatever sport you look at -- even Aussie Rules footy played with alpacas -- it's PUDUBALL on!
Baseball is in its stretch run, and the Indians are 11-1 since the very day they figured out what to do with their batting order. They've also found a damn nice second baseman and second hitter in Cabrera. And they're even in town this weekend. The NFL begins its season this week, and the Browns will suck less this year. That's no small thing. The Rugby World Cup kicks in France, despite a last-minute media boycott. The host team will surprise, I think. But I'm picking New Zealand over the Boks in the final. Aussie Rules enters its postseason, with my two favorite teams, the Swans and Weagles, both in good form. (Yes, I normally back Sydney teams, but a close buddy from Perth is now living in the US, and he's an unhealthy influence.) Even the Arses are kicking arses, despite losing Thierry Henry to Barcelona this year. Not playing this weekend, though, and thank goodness. My DVR would explode. Oh -- and the cricket Twenty20 World Cup starts in Johannesburg on Tuesday. (Go Oz! Like there's any doubt.) I could plotz. It's like a big sweaty harmonic convergence or something. It'll be weeks before I ever catch up with it all, but hey. Small world, too much fun here. PS -- almost forgot: Australia's popular NRL starts its postseason this weekend, too. (Btw, NRL team names are to die for. Who wouldn't cheer for the Parramatta Eels, the South Sydney Rabbitohs, or the Manly Sea Eagles?) Thing is, I don't have a huge allegiance to any of these cross-country wrestling teams yet. I've watched a couple of Gold Coast games, curious to see how Mat Rogers from the Waratahs makes the transition to league, and I generally cheer for the Roosters, since I have happy memories of Aussie Stadium. Eh. Guess I'll cheer for the upstart Rabbitohs this week, despite Russell Crowe's looming presence and an offense which seems lately to consist of punching people in the face. Somehow "Go 'Tohs" should have more of a ring, though. |
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Friday, 31 August 2007 |
This week's timid animalito es este pudú, que está haciendo autostop, as they call it en Chile:
I was wondering how pudus get back and forth to work at the zoos. Pudus don't like to drive.
And if you watch the video, turning the world sideways is a natural pudu form of defense. |
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Friday, 24 August 2007 |
The view north from Stórhöfði on the southern tip of Heimaey in the Westman Islands:
Taken in 55 degree weather during a steady drizzle. In other words, on a fabulous summer day in Iceland.
With weather this cold, you can see why Fuzzy would be the fashion choice for local wildlife.
"Heimaey," incidentally, is pronounced roughly like "Hay-may," albeit with anything from two to four syllables, depending on how seriously you take your diphthongs.
Most of the locals seem to say something pretty close to "Hay-may," or maybe "Hay-ma-ee," but one lady in the airport made it almost into a Norse saga: "Heh-ee-muh-aye-eh-ye," assuming she ever finished. I must have walked away at some point. As far as I know, she may still be standing there in the terminal, just going "ah-ee-uh-muh-ee-ah" and awaiting some sort of rescue.
Heimaey is also the scene of an annual Puffin Rescue as wonderfully loopy as anything I've ever encountered. Every August, thousands of baby puffins take flight for the very first time, and every August, hundreds get confused by electric lights and find themselves wandering aimlessly into the island's one small town.
Fortunately, it's a local tradition to let the kids stay up late, catch and protect the pufflings during the night, and release the baby birds to the sea every morning. Adorable family fun.
That said, by "protect," I mean "shove into cardboard boxes." Not fancy, but it works.
Also, "release" often means "throw overhand." It works just fine for the birds. Some kids even compete to see who can hurl their baby bird farthest. Grab! Zing! Yay!
So, every August, in this small town on this tiny island off the coast of Iceland, hundreds of poor baffled birds spend their first night of adulthood so completely confused that they actually need sleep-deprived children to stuff them in boxes and then fling them like footballs back into the sea.
I dare you not to giggle at this whole idea.
And really, who among us has not been that puffin at some point in life?
Unfortunately, increasingly warm summers (yes, another probable sign of global warming) have been meddling with the puffins' sense of timing, and they're emerging from their nests later each year. The current lead story of the islands' newspaper, Eyjar ("Islands") is an interview with Kristjáns Egilssonar, a local expert who seems to be grumping about the weather, near as I can tell. Which, I should add, isn't far. My Icelandic doesn't extend much beyond "lundi" ("puffin"), "hvar er minn bjór" ("where is my beer") and "snyrting" (the room used, one assumes, to snyrt, often after a bjór; most of us snyrt several times each day*).
Then again, given my struggles with Icelandic, Kristjáns may be simply discussing the pronunciation of "Heimaey." Although the article doesn't seem nearly long enough.
Anyhow. Sad to imagine global warming might actually affect even this remote spot.
Will post much more, I promise. Iceland is exceedingly cool. For now, anyway.
* Disappointingly, "snyrt" and its related forms actually just mean "tidy up," as I understand it. So "snyrtingar" is apparently a polite phrase meaning something like "dressing rooms."
Whatever you were imagining is your own snyrt.
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Friday, 17 August 2007 |
I've just learned that the pudu is the official mascot of the Chilean program of One Computer Per Child:
Note that our young pudu here is still dappled with the white spots that disappear with adulthood. Awww. This is obviously the highest and best use of the pudu image yet. I am sure that the actual pudus tromping around the island of Chiloe are proud, happy, and hopeful that it makes a difference. For more info, visit the One Computer Per Child mothership at Laptop.org. |
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Friday, 10 August 2007 |
I had no idea this particular variety of mouse deer even existed -- but it does (and please forgive the cheesy NatGeo narration):
A bit like finding out your pet chihuahua can fly.
I'm assuming, of course, that chihuahuas can't fly. Apparently, you never know. |
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Friday, 03 August 2007 |
I couldn't pudublog last week, so this week, I present the following, which contains enough cute to fill two weeks, if not actually warp the time-space continuum itself:
This is the fine work of Los Angeles Zoo photog Tad Motoyama, who deserves the Nobel Prize in Ungulates. The photo was forwarded by one of the great folks over there who gave this site a private tour a few weeks ago. The cuteness still tingles. |
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Friday, 20 July 2007 |
This week, another entry courtesy the unbelievably cool private tour given Team Pudu by the Los Angeles Zoodu: the exceedingly rare (in fact, it's classified as "Completely Imaginary") English Zebudu:
The Zebudu is a cross between a horse, a pedestrian walkway, two pudus, and a UPC scanner. Sometimes there is another Zebudu involved, but not always.
You really don't want to know the mechanics of mating, but it should not be attempted at rush hour. Also, everyone always winds up on the other side of the road, with no idea how they got there.
Fortunately, the upside comes when you try to buy a Zebudu in a convenience store. Through a miracle of nature, the stripes are already encoded to come up as "Zebudu" in most checkout systems. (Unless the store has recently upgraded to Vista. Then all bets are off, and the store probably has bigger problems anyway. I hear that Microsoft's next OS upgrade will even ship with a small fire extinguisher, just in case.)
The only real question, then, is how to get your Zebudu up onto the checkout counter in the first place. The ancient Greeks developed several acceptable techniques involving the five basic machines, and Archimedes was fond of floating his Zebudu up onto the counter, which offered the side benefit of a gentle cleansing action. The only shortcoming, for the Greeks, was needing to wait another 2000 years for the laser to be invented, a puzzle they only recently got around.
Fortunately, modern zoologists have discovered a much simpler approach: just put another Zebudu on the other side of the cash register, a horse in the pedestrian crossing, and two pudus across the street. Ten minutes later, there will be a receipt in your hand, a Zebudu in your car, and two confused-looking pudus riding a horse into the sunset, holding hands and looking for something to eat. |
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Monday, 16 July 2007 |
Didn't mean to let the site go slack for so long, but life got busy on me. I'm sure you survived. Meanwhile, much fun cooking here.
 However, now that I'm briefly home again, I must first head to the dentist, because the other day a poppy seed challenged one of my molars to a duel, the molar accepted, and the poppy seed promptly kicked the molar's ass. So I'm down several minor tooth chunks and an aggravated tongue, actually, although that didn't stop me from some weekend goofiness I'll write about later today while the novocaine dissipates.
Said goofiness made me feel like a pudu among giraffes for a little while. And, handily enough, when the L.A. Zoo's docent was leading Team Pudu around the facility (see below), I got a shot which may or may not have depicted that very thing, shown at right.
The pudu would have been just slightly out of frame.
A small festival of gratitude and contentment will likely begin occupying this page for a while. I know the world is a nigh-hopeless mess, yes -- I just wrote another book about that, if fact -- but kindnesses should be acknowledge, and there have been many in my own life lately. |
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Friday, 06 July 2007 |
WARNING: The following photo contains intense adorability. Observe at your own risk.
On the left, a tiny duiker, the stackable South African ungulate.
In the middle, a trained professional capable of withstanding high levels of cuteness.
On the right, an even tinier baby duiker. Ankle high. The neutron bomb of cute.
Once you regain consciousness, just remember: you were warned.
This picture (and others which are coming shortly) only exists because of the kindness of some nice folks at the Los Angeles Zoo who have recently taken a shine to this site's weekly pudublogging. In fact, last weekend, the entire puduland braintrust was given a remarkable VIP tour of the whole place, complete with a well-informed docent explaining all sorts of magnificent things about which animal puts what unexpected thing in some unimaginable orifice for unanticipated reasons, making it all sound so utterly cool. I have rarely been so entertained and delighted.
This was an amazingly wonderful day. Many thanks to Suzanne, Nancy, and Joleen.
Incidentally, if you live in SoCal and haven't been to the zoo lately, go. Take the kids. Want to help save the world? Teach young people to appreciate wildlife and the environment. Plus, it's fun as heck.
The pudus are sort of in the back to the right. The nursery, where you'll find baby whoknowswhats, is in the front to the right. The baby duiker is probably still there if you hurry.
PS -- I should also add that I've had a fabulous run of fortune lately, and there are lots of other people I need to thank profusely -- folks with the L.A. Dodgers, in NY publishing, and doing several varieties of Hollywood thingies. I'm traveling and visiting family at the moment, but there will be much gratitude here asap. |
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Friday, 29 June 2007 |
This baby pudu is determined not to let Mitt Romney and his roof mounts anywhere near:
Vigilance: the eternal price of not being strapped to Mitt Romney's family car and driven around at high speed for hours until your bladder gives out.
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Friday, 15 June 2007 |
Say hello to Indah, daughter of Pepper and Emas:
Only ten weeks old, and already she smells like burnt popcorn and corn chips. Oh, how can she binturong, when looks so binturite?
New resident of one of the world's greatest zoos.
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