To those
fortunate enough not to have heard of the chupacabra, well, let me introduce
him, via Wikipedia:
The
chupacabra
(Spanish pronunciation: [tʃupaˈkaβɾa],
from chupar
"to suck" and cabra "goat", literally "goat sucker") is a legendary cryptid rumored to inhabit
parts of the Americas, with the first sightings reported in Puerto Rico.[1] The name comes from the
animal's reported habit
of attacking and drinking the
blood of livestock,
especially goats.
Well, well—it’s
something to know that Puerto Rico has given (in addition to Ricky Martin and salsa) the world the chupacabra. What I didn’t
know was that the chupacabra has been busy, since it was first seen in August
of 1995 in Canóvanas,
Puerto Rico; sightings have been reported from Chile to Maine in the Americas,
and even in Russia.
The first
attacks in Puerto Rico were on eight sheep, which were, according to Wikipedia, afflicted with three-teethed puncture
wounds in the chest and drained of blood. But was that enough for the
chupacabra? Absolutely not, because the island went mad for chupacabras.
It was on
everyone’s lips, it was believed in fiercely and disputed fiercely, it was a
joke, it was a prank, it was a satanic cult, it was all bunk. Even scientists
got into the picture; here’s Wikipedia again:
In
late October 2010, University of
Michigan biologist Barry O'Connor concluded that all the chupacabras
reports in the United States were simply coyotes infected with the parasite Sarcoptes scabiei, the
symptoms of which would explain most of the features of the chupacabras: they
would be left with little fur, thickened skin, and rank odour. O'Connor
theorized the attacks on goats occurred "because these animals are greatly
weakened, they're going to have a hard time hunting. So they may be forced into
attacking livestock because it's easier than running down a rabbit or a
deer."
Coyotes
in Puerto Rico? Puerto Rican coyotes? Listen, besides species introduced by
man, there’s nothing else here in terms of fauna. OK—I looked it up, and it
turns out that bats are native to Puerto Rico. But that’s it.
So
we went chupacabra-crazy for a while, and in the end, there were 200 reports in
1995, again according to Wikipedia.
What
won’t Wikipedia tell you? Well, I’m delighted to tell you that Tito Armstrong wonderfully
caught the story of Chemo “Jones,” one of the very best of our small town
mayors, and a man not cowed [sic.] by a mere goat sucker. Tito—tell it!
▪
Picture
the scene: a lush forest full of dense vegetation, laced with dangerous beasts
and wild, tropical fauna. An adventurer braves the danger to search for an
elusive creature which has a propensity to drain its victim's blood. Sound like
a movie script? No, it is the real life saga of Chemo "Jones" Soto,
Mayor of Canóvanas and part-time adventurer. Chemo has undertaken a quest to
capture the Chupacabra before it sucks the entire animal population dry. In the
face of Government paralysis, Chemo is the last hope of a desperate citizenry
who have given up hope.
▪
Chemo
has assembled a crack anti-Chupacabra team and hopes to apprehend the beast
sometime this year. He has devised a state of the art "cone-trap"
which will no doubt trap the blood-sucking monster within the month. The
Mayor's pleas to government agencies for help with the hunting efforts have
been largely ignored but Governor Pedro Rosselló has wished him luck. Chemo,
who happens to be up for re-election, is running on the anti-Chupacabra ticket
and hopes to ride it to victory during the November elections.
Yes! And
I might mention, by the way, that this account appears in a site linked to
Princeton University—the chupacabra has definitely arrived.
Sadly,
all this was taking place in 1995, just a bit before the Internet arrived. So
unfortunately, I cannot present you with the image—indelibly fixed on my inner
screen—of Chemo Jones and the boys with their chupacabra trap. But any Puerto
Rican around at the time will remember it—Chemo and the boys had gone out,
presumably after a few beers at the gas station (don’t ask—it’s a Puerto Rican
thing….), and found some rusty old rejas (ornamental iron bars that cover all the windows on the
island) in the back of City Hall. Responding to the urgent needs of the
citizenry, who were faced with certain economic ruin from loss of livestock,
and whose very lives were at risk…
Now,
where was I?
Ah, so
Chemo and the boys patched together a chupacabra trap, into which they put, sensibly, a goat—who
was looking very wide-eyed, and why not? Wouldn’t you? Nor was this all,
because the boys had gotten in the spirit of the occasion—anything to keep the
morale up—and were wearing paramilitary clothes. Here, have a look—though this
photo dates from 2010, when the chupacabra made a brief reappearance:
See?
Inspires confidence, right? You wouldn’t mess with this dude!
Well, the
entire island—especially that part of the island from the opposite party—was
poking fun of Chemo, but guess what? He had the last laugh because Hollywood
picked up on the story, and made a television movie
starring Eric Estrada! Bijte?
He who laughs last….
Now then,
it turns out that the chupacabra was actually caught by a couple in Texas, as
you can see in the clip below (which—even if you inexplicably have no interest
in the chupacabra—you should definitely watch for the spectacularly
retro-teased beehive hairdo of the wife). And quite a chupacabra it was—so what
did they do with it?
Chupacabra
Mystery
Dead
Animal Won’t Be Tested
Texas
can’t handle the truth!
That was the
website TMZ’s headline
four days ago. Sadly, the Texas couple—so staunch in their belief that it wasn’t
a coon, a dog, a coyote—caved to the advice of an “expert” from the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department to
put the animal down, because it was “suffering.” And now they refuse to do a
necropsy, since “chupacabras are mythical creatures.”
Yeah?
And if
you believe that, dear Reader, then might I remind you of the grassy knoll?
The suspicious deaths of Lee Harvey Oswald and
several key witnesses? The reports
of multiple shots? Hah!
It’s a
dark day indeed, Readers, here in sunny Puerto Rico….
