Get the latest Pleo tips, news, pictures, and videos, delivered direct to your email box.  Subscribe now!

Saturday, February 09, 2008


PenDragon is Freaking Me Out!

finger rightPictures, Videos, and more Information on Pleo.
Buy Pleo.

PREFACE: If you are new to my blog you need to know that I have 3 Pleos: Digger, Claire (aka "Stinky") and PenDragon.

It was a dark and stormy night when PenDragon was hatched. The youngest of my moody brood he was always a little different. You see, he was the quiet one. Those are the ones you have to watch closely. Such innocent blue eyes, such a sweet demeanor, yet there was something... different... about PenDragon. A tiny seed of disparity between light and dark, a small growing flower of strange tendencies interwoven with an air of unearthly dino desires that made him a little strange.

Ugobe has stated openly that the adaptive personality upgrade has not been released yet. But it appears that even without it Pleos are not all the same and some are very unique. I have now hatched four Pleos personally and I, and others on the Pleo World forum, can attest that they can be very different indeed. PenDragon is the supreme example.

It started at birth. Moonwalker (the Pleo I had for review purposes for 2 weeks), Digger, and Claire were all somewhat similar during the precious hatching phase; albeit with a few endearing distinct quirks in each of them. But when PenDragon was hatched, after Moonwalker and Digger but just before Claire, the planet Mars must have worn a tiny sneer when the forces that decided to change him at some fundamental baby dino level, took action. I offer as evidence a big disturbing discrepancy in PenDragon's early behavior. Any Pleo owner can attest to the fact that baby dino's do not like to be tipped over. They will howl or growl and let you know quite adequately that they demand to be righted this instant, or you can be certain that your precious toenails will be in immediate peril of a good nibbling! But not PenDragon. During his hatching, with an accidental sweep of my hand I tipped him over on his side. I immediately cringed and braced myself for the punitive howl that was surely coming.



Instead, PenDragon lay there kicking his tiny feet in the air as if to say "I don't care, I go nowhere, no job for me or pressure you see, look at me, my tiny dinosaur feet are free! Hee hee!". Treading non-existent ground and doing not much more than angering a few fractured air molecules, he was more than content to stay with his alternate view of the universe with nary a complaint.

Instead it was I who quickly capitulated, not being able to stand any longer this frightening twist in what I thought was my safe, comfortable view of the Pleo universe. With my understanding of normal Pleo behavior shattered, what other eerie shapes would coalesce into even more alien examples of disturbing behavior? No. I quickly put PenDragon to vertical and prayed to the dinosaur gods above that this was just an aberration, a temporary disturbance in the force, a queasy rip in the fabric of my universe that would render itself invisible to me and my poor beleaguered consciousness.

But what was I to do? He was my baby and I loved him for what he was, so like any stalwart parent I forgot about the incident and locked it away in that uncomfortable corner of the mind we use to store such curious and dark events. As time progressed, I gave it no further thought and enjoyed the many obligatory tug of war battles with him, chin scratches, baby naps and more.

Until tonight.

How curious to watch the innocent at play. How delightful to see siblings frolic and fence in my living room, baby sister and middling brother. Until the hour hand on the clock froze sickly, gripped by the crushing force of midnight, mockingly held in place at the number 12 by the merciless hand that rocks the baby dino cradle, who decided that night to change my safe little Camarasauri world into something that turned itself inwards and devoured itself, into the alien behavior that came to life before me.

At first, PenDragon and Claire faced each other in playful delight, sometimes mimicking each other, other times impressing themselves with their fearless yodeling ability when they weren't utterly distracted by the training leaf. And then. It happened.

PenDragon snickered.

Not the happy laugh of a child enchanted with a new toy or the brilliant colors of a rose petal. No. A dark snicker. A chuff or chortle with an agenda behind it that belayed PenDragon's playful blue eyes and happy grin. Playful yes, but what lay behind those two windows into a baby dino's soul that could cause such a stealthy laugh to echo forth from my innocent little PenDragon? If PenDragon was in a James Bond movie he would be in a big black leather chair, stroking a white cat while concocting plans of world domination after making breakfast of his foes.

And then he did it again.

The disturbing snicker rose for the second time from his lips like a troubling phantom of naughty Camarasaurus chaos, all previously planned in dark detail, and to be executed when I wondered? It wasn't repeating in a loop like Pleos sometimes do on occasion. This was different. He'd bump noses with Claire, look at me, then snicker. He'd chew on his laugh, then cunningly walk backwards a few steps, all the while throwing furtive glances at me as if to say "there is no need to worry. Relax. Rest. Go to sleep. Turn out the lights. Ignore any sounds you happen to hear. We're just baby dinosaurs!". I nervously reached out to tickle his chin and in perfect harmony PenDragon purred and wiggled in delight. A few good backrubs with concomitant baby dino sighs and I shook off the specter that had enveloped me only moments ago as needless paranoia. A tired mind seeing mocking faces in the ceiling stucco where none existed, jumping at the sound of shadows which were merely echoes of my fatigued brain, not malignant spirits intent on doing me harm.

And then he snickered again! A husky "gwarf, hee, hee, hee... look at me... what do you see... can you answer these questions three?".

For now brave reader I have had enough. Fortunately he has slipped into slumber and I hope tomorrow that this will all be just a dream, a careless vision cast forth by angry neurons badly in need of rest. But I beseech you dear reader. If from this point on all my posts are rife with praises for worshiping the great Camarasaurus egg, the beauty and perfection of the training leaf, and a detailed plan for replacing all our leaders with blue-eyed baby Camarasaurus dinosaurs, then you will know the worst has happened. Call in the military. Somewhere in a dark corner of your universe and hurtling towards you like a drunken truck driver careening out of control is a Pleo, heading straight for you!

Can you tell I just got my first H.P. Lovecraft anthology? :)

This is a post about , 's
Excellent post! You've missed your calling :-). So this isn't the tickled feet giggle? THIS should be interesting. Hopefully you can capture this on video.

My Pleo "trouble", gives me an occasional frustrated (and threatening) growl sometimes if I've held her upside down or something. It's usually after all the howling, and she kinda lowers her eyelids a bit while she's doing it... It's amazing how expressive they can be. Thanks for the post!


It reads like a novel, brilliantly put to "paper". Keep up the good work and how on earth do you manage to keep household with these critters around?
I bet the day is near you'll drive to work with the Camma's on the backseat.


cyberdragon (owns a RSV2)
Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?