Amazing Greys Retired Racers

10/14/2026

In the first week of May 2021, about 15 to 20 California condors landed on a house in Tehachapi, a small city in the mountains of Kern County, and did not leave. They destroyed a spa cover. They knocked over potted plants. They tore up decorative flags and lawn ornaments. They scratched the deck railings and covered every surface in droppings. They perched on the roof, the railing, and the porch furniture. A week later they were still there.

There were roughly 160 California condors flying free in the state at the time. Fifteen to 20 of them were on one deck. That is somewhere around 12 percent of California’s entire wild condor population perched on a single residential property in the Tehachapi Mountains.

The California condor is the largest land bird in North America. Its wingspan reaches 9.5 feet. It weighs up to 25 pounds. In 1987, the species was extinct in the wild. Every condor left on earth, all 22 of them, had been captured and placed in captive breeding programs at the Los Angeles Zoo and the San Diego Wild Animal Park.

The decision to take the last wild birds out of the sky was one of the most controversial calls in conservation history. Some biologists argued that a condor in a cage was no longer a condor. Others argued that a dead condor was less of one. The captive birds bred. The first chicks were released in 1992. By 2021, the total population had grown past 500, with more than 300 flying free across California, Arizona, Utah, and Baja California.

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, which runs the recovery program, responded to the Tehachapi situation with a statement that managed to be both sympathetic and unhelpful. The house sits in historic condor habitat, the agency noted. Large congregations in certain high-use areas are not unusual, particularly when feeding. Unfortunately, they sometimes perceive houses and decks as suitable perch locations. The recommended response was harmless hazing: shouting, clapping, and spraying water.

The agency’s spokeswoman framed the larger picture. As condors recolonize parts of their historical range, people could increasingly find themselves interacting with a bird that is curious, intelligent, and social. That is the polite version of what happened in Tehachapi. The less polite version is that a species that nearly vanished from the planet has recovered enough that 15 of them can show up at a house in the mountains and tear the deck apart, and the federal government’s advice is to yell at them and use a garden hose.

This is what success looks like when the species weighs 25 pounds and has a 9.5-foot wingspan and no fear of residential architecture. A condor does not recognize a deck railing as private property. It recognizes it as an elevated perch in open terrain with good sight lines and thermal lift from the surrounding ridges. Tehachapi sits at 4,000 feet in a pass between the Sierra Nevada and the Tehachapi Mountains. Condors have been using those thermals for thousands of years. The houses are new. The birds are not.

Image is for illustration purposes only

Source: U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service / Pam Bierce / CBS San Francisco / Associated Press / San Francisco Chronicle / Boston Globe / NBC San Diego.

10/12/2026

10/11/2026

https://fb.watch/v/4oHJf5Hvr/?mibextid=wwXIfr&fs=e

10/10/2026

10/09/2026

Greyhounds

They’re not real dogs. People will try to convince you otherwise — but don’t fall for it.

I’m pretty sure that greyhounds landed on earth in the middle of an electrical storm.

Before you take one of these sweet-natured space oddities into your home, here are seven things you need to know.

1. They’re definitely not dogs.

A greyhound is a creature that someone held at both ends and stretched. They are long, spindly, big-eyed things with tails like antennae. They try hard, bless them, but mimicking dog behaviour is still a work in progress.

They have too many legs. You’ll only see four with the naked eye, but wait for the glitch in the matrix. If you see a greyhound lying curled up — or worse, see one get up from lying down — you’ll realise that they have at least eight.

Classification is a struggle. Friends have defined my greyhound as an indoor horse, a pet deer, a miniature giraffe, a giant mouse and a dachshund on stilts. What exactly he looks like is up for debate, but it goes without saying that Rover and Lucky are only distant relations

2. They’re pretty gothic.

If greyhounds weren’t so mellow, Heathcliff would have had one. They’re tall, skeletal and eerily silent — the final touch to any haunted stately home. Mine has such a thousand-yard stare that we’ve nicknamed him ‘The Philosopher’.

They regularly sleep upside down with their legs in the air, like a canine version of Gregor Samsa in Kafka’s Metamorphosis. It’s called ‘roaching’.

If they’re not the Black Dog ghost of folklore, then they’re descended from the banshee. Greyhounds don’t bark, they scream — and the sound is uncannily like a woman. The first time I took mine to the park and he saw a squirrel, someone opened their front door to see who was getting murdered.

3. Big dogs can be total cowards.

“He’s a huge, hip-height black dog with a muzzle on,” I thought. “People will take one look at him and cross the road. He’ll be a perfect creep deterrent.”

Not quite. While people are very afraid of big dogs in muzzles, they are no longer afraid when that dog weighs about three stone and wears a jacket.

Greyhounds don’t howl, they cry. It’s very disconcerting — a little too human. Worse still: they cry a lot. My greyhound cries whenever someone he likes leaves the room. It’s pretty insulting for the people still in the room.

4. They wear pyjamas.

I used to think that putting dogs in clothes was just for Paris Hilton. My former self would be so ashamed of me today.

Greyhounds have so little body fat that they can’t keep warm. The rule is: “If you need a jacket, so does he.” In a cold house, they start to shiver — so they need to wear pyjamas. If you can see a dog in a housecoat without laughing, you’re a stronger person than me.

It’s not just the housecoats that make them resemble little old men: they develop greyhound pattern baldness. The fur thins out all over their body, ending in a bald butt like a baboon. You find yourself googling canine hair loss remedies and rubbing amla oil on their bald patches. You find yourself wondering if they make doggy Rogaine. It’s not dignified.

5. They take laziness to a whole new level.

Many people think that getting a dog will help them get fit — and if you adopt a greyhound, know that you will never sit on the sofa again.

Because the dog is sleeping on it, and he’s taking up all three seats.

Don’t count on bracing country walks with this one. Greyhounds can run at over 40 miles per hour — but they won’t if they can help it. After a few steps they’ve had enough, give up and stop to lean on you.

Like cats, they sleep for about 20 hours a day. They lie on the sofa with their giraffe necks dangling off the edge and noses brushing against the floor. It’s when they transmit brainwaves to the mothership.

You can have a loud party all around them and they’ll sleep through it. They won’t steal food from low tables. They won’t steal dropped chips from the pavement. It’s not because they’re too angelic — it’s because they can’t be bothered to stoop down.

6. They’re the world’s sweetest serial killers.

If you have a good relationship with your neighbours, you had better say goodbye to it right now.

You are about to live in constant fear of your dog eating their cat. All dogs want to eat cats, but greyhounds are actually fast enough to catch them. When it happens, it’s a very awkward knock at the door.

Your wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly couch hound will get into a fight with a hedgehog and lose. The hedgehog will waddle away unscathed — the greyhound will get spines stuck all over his face. He’ll never learn his lesson.

Like it or not, you will become an expert at extracting small furry animals from your greyhound’s jaws.

7. They have healing powers.

Greyhounds are rag doll dogs: they’ve reached an unearthly level of chill that the rest of us can only aspire to. Having a greyhound rest its head on your knee is a proven antidote for stress — and as for their appearance, well, laughter is the best medicine. Their gentle, affectionate personalities make you feel calm by association. They love children and would make the perfect therapy animals. If the NHS handed out greyhounds on prescription, we would solve the anxiety epidemic in two shakes of a very thin tail.

Author unknown