Ode to the Mather Raccoon

In case you thought we don’t have creative range, you thought wrong. Welcome to The Thrill sonnet corner.

Interviewing Animals That Have Been Found in Various Buildings Across Campus

Group of pets posing around a border collie; dog, cat, ferret, rabbit, bird, fish, rodent

Everybody knows that one of the best parts about attending Kenyon is getting back to your roots and connecting with nature. Rolling cornfields, wide open skies, and entire ecosystems of wildlife… some of them living in our very own residence halls! We took the liberty of interviewing some of these critters in hopes of better understanding our very own tree of life.

Kenyon’s Real Rodent Problem: Mousy Brunettes

If you check your “allstu” emails or scan the Collegian, you’ve definitely seen someone complaining about Kenyon’s rampant animal infestation. Rats and bats, raccoons and squirrels… if a species is small and furry, there are almost certainly specimens lurking on campus, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to steal your DoorDash order.

Kenyon Kritters: What is a bird?

Warning: the following is semi-educational and may trigger acute ornithophilia. Come to the dark side, my friends- we have little fuzzy dinosaurs. The author would also like to note that she is not liable for any injuries sustained from smacking your head into a tree because you were staring at a bird. Photos from the National Audubon Society.

Kenyon Kritters: Coyotes, triumph of the underdogs

Warning: the following is semi-educational and may cause sudden overwhelming sensations of hypocrisy. 

Hola, omnivores!

It’s a chilly autumn’s eve. The leaves crackle and crunch underfoot as you stumble your way down Middle Path after a late-night essay panic-write comparing Frankenstein to Franz Kafka in the crypt of the library. Pale moonlight filters through the trees, casting strange shadows that flicker in your path and dance off the boughs of the trees. What was that? You spy a flash of motion out of the corner of your eye, right at the edge of the woods. Probably just a raccoon. A demon goblin raccoon. It’s almost Halloween, and you’ve got evil on the brain.

Suddenly, off in the distance you hear an ethereal sound, like a satanic pennywhistle. Another joins the chorus, and then another. It’s like a band of demon children tormenting everything with ears with their fiendish third grade recorders. The band swells, like it’s creeping closer, closer, closer.  You break into a gallop and high-tail it into the dorm building and up the stairs to your room, slamming the door behind you. The thought flickers through your mind as you collapse panting on your bed: could there be coyotes at Kenyon?