We Rhinos have an extensive repertoire of functions We fulfill, here and there, now and then and whenever. One such is Rhinoceros: The Mammal of Mystery. We embody Mystery, not only for most other critters, but often for ourselves. We wear the Cloak of Unaccountability.
Why are We Nature’s Darlings? Who can say.
Some questions are simply Too Mysterious.
Today has been National Brownie Day. Operating in good faith, Your Inner Rhino assumed the celebration centered on small domestic pixies who specialize in domestic merriment.
And We proceeded on that, as it turns out, misconception. National Brownie Day is officially about baked goods, with or without nuts. Surprise for Us! (We Rhinos have witnessed very few Brownies of either variety.)
“Hm-Hmmmm” is what We said to ourselves in the face of this muddle. “Hm-Hmmmm.”
Some of our Readers may find themselves resisting aging. Birthdays apparently fill some folks with dread and dismay.
The Rhino system is far easier to work with. When you cannot count beyond 3, that’s about as old as We can get. How old? “Three, or thereabouts”, that’s Us. What does accuracy have to recommend it? Nothing, We’re aware of. Too much keeping score is how We see it.
Timing is another factor in this discussion. We Rhinos have birthdays all over the place, whenever the mood strikes. “How old?” and “How many birthday parties?”: That’s right. Three, or thereabouts.
Now and then We Rhinos are asked about our tails; are We wagging it, or is it wagging Us? Unhappily, We have no awe-inspiring answer.
A Rhino’s tail is as importand as any other part, as far as We know. Why and how our tails get busy, We can’t say. There is a Rhino Idea that our tail has a separate Command Center, following its own rules. It pushes the button and our tail wags away.
When We think about it, the same is true for most parts of Us, from our teeth to our kneecaps. Nature has made Rhinos functional, and We’re lucky it is so.
As every RhinoTot hears from the cradle, nobody is born a Trapeze Artist. With time, it sort of sinks in, more or less, kind of, give or take.
Reality may be Real, but that does not make it Welcome.
Besides, obviously it does not mean We won’t think about that Trapeze.
Sometimes a Rhino decides that not taking the medicine is the strongest choice to make. Not based on information, just perversity and cantankerousness. Everybody is impressed.
Sick indeed.
An Olde Rhinoe Questione: At what point does the Consumer consume so much that they morph into the Consumed? When is the shrub a Shrub, and when does it become a Rhinoceros? Or is the Rhinoceros merely a walking extension of the Shrub?
You can see how these questions would hold our attention.
Rhinos are Big Critters, which is no surprise, to Us or you. Perhaps you have not been concentrating on this issue: how much Skin it takes to wrap a Rhino up. The answer is most likely, more than you (or We) might have guessed.
Consequently, the daily parade of events has a lot of surface to impress, to titillate and stimulate and annoy. Inside, We get messages all the time suggesting We enjoy this moment, or scratch that patch of Us, or be aware that what was irksome yesterday seems to be dandy today.
We sing the praise of our Skin. Everything likes some encouragement, right?
Occasionally We Rhinos try to improve our ratings for Sedate Comportment. These efforts are betrayed consistently by random Natural Phenomena. A case in point is the Wind.
A Breeze skips by, Rhinos get excited, and then somebody cranks up the volume, and it gets Windy. We are overwhelmed by the greatness of it, the intense pleasure the Wind brings. All our senses fibrillate.
It’s a wonder We don’t explode.
Question: Who invented King Arthur’s Round Table?
Answer: Sir Cumference.
Your Inner Rhino 