Probably Hercules the Liger. Terrifyingly enormous animal–pictures do not do justice to how intimidating a predator of that mass is.
My cat is a very special boy and there’s no other cat like him. Does that count?
Only if you named her Kat. So i could call it Kit’s kat.
…I’m just now realizing that I’ve missed an incredible opportunity.
Uhh, in the wild? I’ve seen some pretty uncommon wetland birds a number of times. Some pretty weird bugs too, although it’s hard to say what they were.
I’ve seen big moose really up close, and that was epic, and would have been terrifying if there wasn’t usually a car-stopping amount of wood between us. They’re not rare, though, just shy.
In December '94 I was running through Banff at a speed that was ridiculous for winter driving even before we consider it was a white '91 geo metro and 1am in a snowstorm.
And there it was. But, night-zoned and lulled by the hyperspace homage in snowflakes lit by the headlights, the first thing I saw was just a series of knees.
“Oh fuckfuckfuck,” said my brain to itself as I executed a classic Moose Check maneuvre at an ungodly rate of speed in absolutely unsuitable conditions, missing the moose by a distance smaller than the amount of caring our conservative political candidate really has for the plebes he wants to manage for fun and profit.
After an interminable series of fishtails from trying to straighten up after going nearly sideways on the slippery roads in the blizzardy dark in a frightenly remote part of the highways, in a car that wouldn’t be seen in the ditch or ravine by searchers or passers-by until some later Spring, I managed through luck and wordless appeals to a capricious god to straighten the attitude of the car and keep it on the roadway.
And my future wife woke up in the passenger seat and asked what was going on, sleepily wondering why the turns are so sharp and why I’m cursing.
“It’s fine; but I saw a moose back there. Really close, too!”
Polar Bear on the Hudson Bay coast in northern Ontario.
I’m Indigenous and I’ve gone hunting and trapping with my relatives a few times in my life. On one of those trips we happened on a polar bear on the mud flats of the bay during the late autumn. We drove by in our freighter canoe (a very large oversized canoe with a 60 HP outboard motor) and the bear swam near us and then walked by a few hundred feet away. It wasn’t afraid but we were. We watched for a while and then fired rifle shot into the mud next to it to scare it away. From the moment it started to run to the point it disappeared as a speck on the horizon was about a minute or two. I went up later to look at the prints and the clay mud looked like a tractor had driven over it. I couldn’t believe how fast it could move on the mud. I quickly sank in my boots and could barely walk around.
One paw print was about the size of my head. I never left camp without someone nearby or a rifle in my hands.
I’m told that the time it takes a polar bear to discover, stalk, hunt, kill and partially devour you is on the order of 10 minutes.
Most people do not survive a polar bear passing them in the bush.
Probably a Takahē in New Zealand but in captivity.
I saw takahē in captivity too, in Zealandia. You can sort of see why they almost went extinct - their big defence move is to sit reeeeally still. Big silly chooks.
Yeah I saw the takahē in Zealandia and one other zoo. Would have been cool to see in the wild if possible in the preservation areas the have.
I’m happy just to know they’re there, living their lives.
