CORINNA DOWNES: The Director of the CFZ is speechless - is this a first?

CORINNA’S DIARY

Friday 19th March


After visiting Devin the four of us intrepid travellers continued on our road down to Cuero where we were to meet Dr Phyllis Canion – the lady who had appeared on a recent National Geographic TV documentary about the chupacabra that had aired on American TV the week before we had left home. Our good friends Nick Redfern and Ken Gerhard had both appeared in the show, but for copyright reasons it had not been aired in the UK. Dr Canion had the body of a ‘chupacabra’ in her freezer and we were to meet and talk about her findings and hopefully see the body.

We left Morgan and Jo back at Devin’s place – they would meet up with us later. Dr Canion met us in the foyer of our hotel and just as we were leaving to go to the Country Club, the two film crew arrived at the hotel. It was arranged that they would join us later after they had freshened up after their journey from Elmendorf.

Dr Canion is a remarkable woman. She is a qualified nutritional practitioner and is also a rancher who has a great knowledge of the land around her. I will not go into details of the dinner and its conversations as this has been covered elsewhere on the blog but when we got back to her ranch we were all totally gob-smacked of what presented itself to us as we walked through her door. Jon was, for I think the first time in his life, speechless, as were all of us. There, on the fireplace, was a preserved specimen of the creature we had been hot on the heels of ever since our feet touched American soil almost two weeks before and which we had been distance-investigating for longer.

It almost snarled at us in defiance as we stared open-mouthed at its form, this beast that had been killed by our modern-day mode of transport like so many other creatures these days. I was charged with taking measurements of its body and although my creaking bones complained bitterly at sitting on the hard wooden floor of Dr Canion’s sitting room, it was an awe-inspiring task to do so. I silently thanked the goddess of fate that the stitching on my bag had started to unravel itself upon our arrival in the States, which prompted my need to purchase a travelling sewing kit complete with tape measure. It is strange how one annoyance can lead to something so utterly magnificent.

I became paranoid that upon trying to move my sluggish body up from the floor to change position would cause me to trip and come crashing down upon the creature and that those other preserved animals that looked down upon this newcomer would laugh silently to themselves at my misfortune.

The form was thin – not quite as thin as a whippet – but almost. And it was smaller than I had imagined. It did look undernourished to a certain extent and upon its legs there seemed to be faint darker patches on the skin that looked a bit like stripes. There is excess skin upon its neck and behind the large ears, but it is the weird scone-like discs upon its buttocks that are so strange. They are around 2” in diameter and are equidistant of the long thin tail. They remind me of old-fashioned flying goggles in their protruding roundness. What on earth are they? Is this creature so emaciated that its bones are sticking out at the back? Not that I can see and from recorded biopsies these discs are primarily meat. They are not the anal glands according to Dr Canion either. But they are present on several other photos of dead creatures of this kind that have popped up in recent years.

As Goethe stated – and as the CFZ motto quotes: In her abnormalities, nature reveals her secrets. Well in this case, it appears that this is most definitely true.

CORINNA DOWNES: Thirteen Fateful Days in 1836

CORINNA’S DIARY: Wednesday, 17th March

Last night we partook in an evening of celebration to commemorate St. Patrick’s Day, US-style. We were in San Antonio to take part in the annual merriment and perambulated down the Riverside Walk – a kind of towpath that runs alongside the river that weaves its way through part of the city. There was an abundance of green of various different shades everywhere – it was like the early summer countryside of England before the sun has dealt whatever torment it wishes on the earth below; at least during those summers where the sun does shine in the UK for more than two days in a row, that is.

Everywhere you looked you were confronted with leprechauns of all shapes and sizes, and all nationalities too. In fact, we did wonder on more than one occasion how many of those sporting habillement vert did actually have Irish heritage, but that is by the by considering everyone concerned appeared to be enjoying themselves thoroughly, especially those who owned the riverside eateries that were packed to the gills with revellers. But I suppose that is a trifle cynical – but as you have probably realised by now, I AM a trifle cynical.

But back to St Paddy’s Day. We ate in a Mexican restaurant where we were joined by Ken Gerhard and Jon enjoyed a couple of double margaritas in a ridiculously oversized glass (only in Texas, eh?), the size of which I had never seen before. But then when on holiday, it is no bad thing to relax in the company of friends over a nice meal and a drink or two.

Earlier in the day we had visited Devin again and taken him, Jonathan, and Chad (more of whom tomorrow) out for a drink at a nearby bar, along with Nancy who runs the local store in Elmendorf and whom Jon knew by reputation but had always wanted to meet.

From left: Richie, Devin, Naomi, Me, Jon, Chad, Nancy and Jonathan

We then set off for San Antonio to spend a day or two as holidaymakers and to celebrate the saint day mentioned above. But first we visited The Alamo – somewhere I had wanted to visit for a long time. It was a poignant visit – as soon as I walked through the doors into the mission the desperation and bravery of those who fought to the death in “thirteen fateful days in 1836” firmly hit me between the eyes. As I always do in such places I laid a hand on the stones. It is the only way to get the vibe of a place such as that – feel the stones and feel the history absorbed by them. It was a moving time as we made our way through the building and grounds outside.

After our evening out Jon and I took a carriage ride back to the hotel. It was a lovely evening and our driver, who was a jolly nice chap, steered his horse Hardy around some of San Antonio pointing out landmarks as we went along. It was a lovely treat and the first time I had taken such a trip by that method of transport.

After a shower it was crawl into bed where I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Of Cryptids, Company, and Colds

Yesterday was the most adventurous day we have had. The Hayek place was beautiful and vast -- green fields with steep, sloping riverbanks full of mysterious holes they claim are dens of the blue dogs. I looked into one as far as I could but I couldn’t see past the first turn of the twisted tunnel. Ken Gerhard, who was over last night, says that during his NatGeo documentary he pushed a fibre-optic camera far into the den and the narrow entrance went on for a long time; they never were able to see past the entrance to the main part. Mr Hayek has indeed seen the blue dogs entering and exiting one of the dens (face first in and face first out) so at least we weren’t wasting time probing some other animal’s dwelling. Speculation about these blue dogs sometimes leads to evidence that really isn’t evidence. It’s easy to interpret certain clues as signs of their presence that are really signs of another animal and would normally have gone unnoticed.

At the end of the day we tried unsuccessfully to beat Ken Gerhard to our house. It was bad enough that he had to wait for us but then he was nowhere to be found when we got there, although his vehicle sat in the driveway. I assumed correctly that he had taken off into the surrounding woods for a night-time stroll and he eventually showed back up. He is one of the nicest people I’ve met and I’m happy he’ll be joining us next week on the River Walk on St Patrick’s Day.

Ken and Jon and Corinna gathered on the patio to reunite over drinks while Richie and I scrounged for something to feed everyone. The party eventually grew to include Jo and Morgan from Minnow Films and Richie’s sister Janice. We had a great time, but as the evening wore on I got an increasingly sore throat and aching head, and when I woke up this morning my throat was so sore I could barely swallow. So I’m nursing a cold I hope will be gone by the time we travel to Nick Redfern’s on Sunday.

MINNOWS AND SAUSAGE

Today looks set to be another fun-packed round of eventfulness. We liaised with Morgan and Jo from Minnow Films in a Applebee's bar/restaurant last night, and a convivial time was had by all. People who were privy to excursions of ten years ago would, however, probably be surprised at how sober and restrained we all were - but I, for one, have grown up a bit.

Today we are off to a town called Fayetteville to meet a pair of ranchers who have seen the elusive blue dogs on several occasions, and who were heavily featured on the Nat Geo documentary on the subject with Ken Gerhard a few weeks back. Talking of our Ken, we shall be meeting him back chez West in Kempner this evening (with or without the Minnow posse, remains to be seen) and a frank exchange of views shall take place. Who am I trying to kid? It will be beer and a barbecue....

Chocks away!

Biggles knows something is up - he has that look upon his face. I was running up and down the stairs like a flea in a jam pot yesterday, trying to gather everything together, and every time I came downstairs he wouild follow me around like a sticking plaster. I am sure he will have fun with Oll and Graham though - and Graham has promised to have him up in his bedroom at night. When we come back from Texas no doubt Biggles will know everything there is to know about online poker, Hawkwind and the joys of the odd can of lager.

Over the last few days I have accumulated lists of lists and have therefore become slightly confused as to what I was supposed to still do and what I have done! But everything that needed charging was duly sorted yesterday and last-minute washing and ironing successfully carried out (I haven't ironed anything for ages - I had almost forgotten how to tackle it!).

Later on today we shall set out on our first leg of the journey to Texas, and I am looking forward to seeing Naomi and Richie again, along with Nick and Dana Redfern and Ken Gerhard amongst others. That is if the US let me in of course - the photo in my passport does make me look like a cross between Ma Baker and Bonnie Parker - but I was having a bad hair day when the photo was taken and was less than half awake and therefore looked slightly shocked when the camera went click.

We will keep this blog updated as regularly as possible and look forward to our expedition to the Lone Star State revealing lots of interesting things about the blue dogs. And of course, as ever, I shall be keeping an eagle eye out for any amusing events and anecdotes concerning my poor beleagured husband.

See you later....