This is going to be a short entry, because Khe’ăr wants to take everyone and get out of town. I thought I would write a bit about what’s been happening this past week. On the day after I posted the last entry, S’horžăm tried to capture a fish that was much too large for him, and the damn beast almost pulled him into the water. He would have been able to hold his breath for a little while, but if the fish had pulled him down, he would have died.

I received word from Kykherhenha, who got an urgent message from her son, so we both raced down to the beach with Rhalhea and Keridhar right behind us. Both Keridhar and Kykherhenha flew across the water to S’horžăm who was just above the water. Keridhar extended his claws, and the fish had no chance against a full-grown whistling dragon with poison in his claws.

Nykha and T’heril are bored; Nykha would rather be back in school, but T’heril wants to hang out with his friends. The only problem is that this is summer, there is a whole month without school, and most of the friends have left for other parts of the country, or even another continent.

Arhen and Fhenha, on the other paw, always seem to find something to do. A couple of days ago, Arhen brought home a small pail full of rocks. They were just plain, ordinary rocks, but a few of them were shiny, and these fascinated Arhen. Fhenha wanted to look at them, but Arhen wouldn’t show them to her, so they almost got into a fight. Lheana solved that problem by taking the pail of rocks away from them.

During this time away from school, Jhorhea is spending a lot of time at the beach, swimming, and catching fish. I remember the first time she caught a fish, and ate it, right in front of the Dhoren children, and Oren Thalen, who was sitting in his wheelchair at the edge of the bay. Jhorhea had gone underneath the waves, and a few minutes later, came up with this rather large fish (at least it looked large in her paws). Not even hesitating one second, she bit into the fish, tore out a fair-sized chunk, and started chewing. This was just too much for Oren, who vomited all over his lap. The Dhoren children didn’t look so good, either, but they managed to keep their food in their stomachs.

I asked Khe’ăr where we were going, and he said he didn’t know. Just a drive, Lheana said. The bus would be coming in about an hour, and she wanted everyone to be ready. When Khe’ăr said he didn’t know where we were going, my cubs and the Dhoren children had plenty of suggestions. Nykha said she wanted to go to the Dàvhan-Dhomhan desert, but that drew plenty of protests from my cubs, who said it was too hot, and from Khe’ăr who said it was too hot. T’heril suggested Chendhar, but all Khe’ăr would say was, Are you kidding? Lheana had the best idea, telling us that the bus would be ours for the day, and we could go anywhere we liked, as long as it was in Te’hănys.

As I put the finishing touches on this entry, T’heril has a map of Te’hănys on the kitchen table, and everyone is hunched over it, trying to find some place interesting to go for the day. As for me, it doesn’t really matter where we go; since my family and I have been here, we have seen most of the sights in and around Treskebhar.

How about Bhortuyn Falls? Nykha suggests. Too far for a daytrip, Khe’ăr says. How about the Mestrhadhen Gardens? That suggestion came from T’heril. We all looked at the map and Khe’ăr’s finger traced a scenic route southwest of Treskebhar to a small town called Mestrhadhen. This way there, he said, and we’ll take the long way back. If we leave as soon as the bus gets here, we should get back late tonight.

So our destination had been decided. Next time I update this journal I’ll write about the trip and what we saw.

F'hăr. 10.99/Day 121

The Dhoren children and my cubs are out of school for the entire month of F'hărnhachyzh, so that means they will be underfoot, or down at the beach if they weather stays warm throughout this month. Lheana has stated emphatically that she will put them to work so they won't be watching the wallscreen all day long.

Today is the second day of the weekend, and everybody is home. I'm just glad Khe'ăr and Lheana have a large home, or we'd be getting in everybody's way. But so far everybody seems to be getting along just fine, and hopefully we can keep this up for twenty-seven more days.

As I work on this journal entry Rheža is sitting on my lap, and S'horžăm is lying in the middle of the living room, sleeping. My second daughter wants to know if I have Jhalhemha in my pouch, and I tell her that her mama has her. She wants to know what I'm doing so I show her the journal entries, and explain that Papa is writing about the every-day events in and around Treskebhar.

When Rhalhea and I first came to Alharhan, and the city of Treskebhar, about ten years ago, one of the first buildings in the downtown area that really interested me was the library. Since Tereskàdians did not read when I was a cub, I had never heard of this place called a 'library'. The main library in Treskebhar is the largest on the entire planet, and possibly even the universe. (Don't tell me you're surprised!). It takes up an entire block in downtown Treskebhar, and it is twenty-two stories high. It holds about one hundred million items, mainly books which is what I'm interested in. There are books of every conceivable subject, from astronomy to zoology, and fiction books for every taste.

When Rhalhea and I started going to the University of Treskebhar Thyros Mharen suggested that we should get a library card, because reading would open up a whole new world for us. The first books we checked out of the library were simple picture books, with a minimum of text. The combination of learning at school and reading library books helped with our education. If someone had told me ten years ago that I would now be reading as good as an Alharhanian I would have said it was a lie.

So why am I writing about the library? Because on the first of this month I decided to visit it again, after not being in there for quite a long time. The first thing I did was check the computer entries on poetry books, especially the ones that tell you how you can write poetry without even trying hard. I don't know, but the urge is flickering again, although rather faintly. I know I won't be as successful as Šheôrha, whose book of poetry is selling remarkably well, but I just want some alternative to the autobiography I'm working on.

I checked out three books, two 'how to' books on poetry, and one fiction book about life in an ancient land that may be the product of the author's imagination, or a real land that had disappeared long ago. Kykherhenha was sceptical about the poetry books, saying that I keep talking about writing a poem, but that's about all I do. The crude attempts I have made regarding this art form are best left unread and undiscussed.

All right, enough about poetry. The Dhoren children, and Jhorhea and Rheža and their whistling dragons are down at the beach. I don't mind that at all, because the Thalen family has showed up, and if I know them, they will be staying for the rest of the day, and sometime today S'horel and Chĕnha, and Khe'ăr and Lheana will be playing pent'hăr. Lheana remarks that on several occasions Rhalhea and I have played the game with her and Khe'ăr, so luck would be on the side of the Dhorens.

Oren asks if he can go down to the beach, and his mother just dismisses him with a wave of her hand. Oren tells his wheelchair where to go, and it obeys like a well-trained servant. When I watched him leave, I debated if I should spend some time down at the water, or stay here with the Dhorens and the Thalens and watch them play pent'hăr.

The beach finally wins, thanks to Kykherhenha who urged me to get out of the house. I read her thought that she wants to spread her wings, so as soon as I open the door, both she and Keridhar walk outside, and beat their wings vigorously, finally lifting up into the sky.

Rhalhea and I walk together to the water, but not to where the children and the cubs are playing. We have no intention of going anywhere near them, because we want to be by ourselves. But do you think that such a thing is possible? Of course not. Sometimes I think parents can be invisible, and the cubs will find them. So it's Rheža who comes running up to us, asking where we're going. Just for a walk, Rhalhea says. Can I come too? Rheža says. And you know darn well she won't take no for an answer.

F'hărnhachyzh 3.99/Day 114

My twenty-sixth birthday came and went without incident, because every year I tell Khe'ăr and Lheana not to do anything special. To a Tereskàdian, it is just another day. Nevertheless, Lheana went out and bought a book for me. She insisted that my birthday had nothing to do with it, but I knew she was lying. It was a brand-new book by Jackson Markham Tyler, one that had not even been put on the bookstore shelves yet. It even smelled new, as I discovered when I held it close to my nose and sniffed the fresh book aroma. Lheana told me that Jackson had some free copies delivered, and Rhalhea and me were the first Tereskàdians he thought of.

In Silence Revered is the title on the front cover. Big red letters that leap out at you. A painting of a Tereskàdian on the cover, a female, standing in the middle of a snowy desert. The author's name at the bottom, red like the title, but smaller. It's a novel, Lheana said. I wasn't sure I wanted to have this. Jackson had very good knowledge about us Tereskàdians, but I didn't know if he could capture the subtleties and nuances of a Tereskàdian in a novel. I told Lheana I would start reading it later, but I didn't specify when that 'later' would be.

On the 20th Nykha and T'heril celebrated their seventeenth birthday. I still remember when they were younger than Arhen and Fhenha will be on the 27th. When I think about those days I think about that scary time about ten years ago when an Alharhanian kidnapped T'heril, and I walked down the peninsula not far from Khe'ăr's home to rescue him. I had recounted that incident in my autobiography a few days back; I find it remarkable that memories are really locked into me. From birth until the present time I can recall even the most trivial moments of the past.

The 23rd of this month saw the arrival of summer. The meteorologist announced the official time of arrival, but I didn't care about that. I knew that for the next one hundred and five days, summer would be sure to be mostly hot, and humid, and sometimes rain would pour upon the land, just to give us a bit of relief. Just to make sure that everyone knew that summer had officially arrived, the temperature climbed into the unbearable zone, and Rhalhea and I spend most of our time at the beach, in the water. Even Kykherhenha and Keridhar joined us, looking for prey among the many species of fish that live in the bay.

More of the same yesterday. The Alharhanians who live along Brežendra Road can take full advantage of their bayfront properties. Yesterday quite a few of them came down to the beach, males, females, adults, children, and all of them were nude. I was glad that my family and I were well-known in this area, so there were no incidents with stupid Alharhanians trying to prove they were better than Tereskàdians. When the cubs and the children came home from school the first thing the Dhoren children did was take off their clothes, and run down to the beach where they joined Rhalhea and Lheana and me.

Yesterday I spent most of my time in the water, lying on my back. I have Jhalhemha in my pouch, and I could feel her nursing. Why is it that whenever I think of my daughter I try to calculate the number of days left when she comes out? I'm not sure, but I think it's less than forty days now before she makes her first appearance. Kykherhenha tells me maybe I've grown tired of having three cubs in my pouch, and I'm looking forward maybe a little too eagerly to be rid of Jhalhemha. Well, I wouldn't call it 'too eagerly', but maybe she did have a point. I think Mama was like that, too, when my youngest brother Tez'hărhej was almost ready to emerge from the pouch.

After today there are only three more days left in this month, and then, during the entire month of F'hărnhachyzh, my cubs and the Dhoren children will be home from school. Four children, two cubs, two whistling dragons. The good news is that they will spend most of the time at the beach; the bad news is, if it rains, they will be indoors fighting for the right to view the wallscreen. If I know Lheana she will let them decide the issues themselves, but invariably Arhen and Fhenha will be the ones on the losing end of the argument. Hopefully, some of Nykha's and T'heril's friends from the university will come to visit.

It is beginning to rain. Nothing heavy, really, at least not yet, but if I know Alharhanian weather, it should graduate into a heavy downpour very shortly which will last for about half an hour, and then it will gradually subside, until the dark clouds part and let Orovha make an appearance again. I'm inside, in my room, Kykherhenha beside me. For some strange reason she is thinking of flying in this rain, and it seems that she is begging to be let out. Can we go outside, please, Thekherham, please, she sends.

When we step outside, the rain has increased in intensity, driven harshly by the winds whipping across the bay. I stand with my arms spread while my fur is getting soaked, and my tail suddenly feels rather heavy, so I just let it droop. It is dragging on the ground now; I'll have to clean it later. My nictitating membrane slides across my eyes, and I am facing the bay. The atmosphere is heavy and gray, and the clouds have claimed the sky.

I close my eyes and my ears. I see nothing, I hear nothing. Darkness envelopes me, and silence surrounds me. For some reason I think of the first time I had emerged from my father's pouch, and the first thing I saw and felt were snowflakes. Snowflakes. Cold and white, brief lives. One easily snuffed out, many covered my entire world.

I open my eyes and look at the house. Rhalhea and Keridhar are standing there by the back door. She communicates with me via our whistling dragons, and of course she wants to know what I'm doing. I'm taking the opportunity, I sent back. You look drenched. I know. And look at your tail. I didn't have to look at it, I could feel it.

I invited her to join me, but she just laughed and said she wasn't that crazy. I whirled around once, twice, then walked back to the house and joined my mate. I made a move to walk past her, suddenly grabbed her waist and held her close to me. My wetness rubbed off on her, and at first she resented it, but then she laughed and held me close, and licked my muzzle.

K'hăr. 25.99/Day 108

Lheana had put a large scenic calendar on the wall of our room at the beginning of the year and there she has marked down the birthdays of everyone in the family, Alharhanians and Tereskàdians. When I looked at the calendar this morning I found that tomorrow, the 17th day of K'hărhachyzh will be my twenty-sixth birthday. Now, to put this all in perspective, you must remember that I was born on Tereskàdhar, and when I was a cub we didn't have anything like birthday remembrances or celebrations. You were born, you grew up, you mated, you had cubs, and then you grew old and died, and that's the way our world went. But when we came to Alharhan about ten years ago one of the first things the Alharhanians wanted to know was the date of my birth. Of course I didn't know that because I didn't find any significance in it. So they sent me to Khe'ăr's family doctor, Thorhach dhar Mhon'hăl, who studied the age lines in my claws… well, actually he had to study just one claw. Now you know that I have this extremely potent poison in my claws, so he had to be very careful not to touch them. I want to make it clear that the poison isn't exactly dripping from our claws; it is safely confined inside, but a Tereskàdian never takes any chances. That is why we always warn Alharhanians who want to look at our claws.

Anyway, back to the age lines. These are very thin lines on the claws that tell how old a Tereskàdian is, and the only way an Alharhanian can see them is through a powerful microscope. So I let my claws by examined by Sen Mhon'hăl who, after careful calculations, decided that my birthday should be on the 17th of K'hărhachyzh. He also examined Rhalhea, and announced that her birthday would be on the 14th of F'hărnhachyzh, which is next month.

I notice on the calendar one week after my birthday is the first day of summer. According to weather predictors it is supposed to be a fairly mild summer, warm enough for Alharhanians to walk around in the nude, but not so hot and humid that Tereskàdians spend most of their time panting, and staying indoors to get away from the heat. Now I must say the Alharhanians who predict this have been fairly accurate ever since we've come to this planet, with only the occasional misfire, so I hope that this will indeed be a mild summer.

It is midmorning in the northern section of the city of Treskebhar. The Dhoren kids and my cubs are all at school. Jhalhemha is in my pouch and she is sleeping. She will be making her first appearance on the 4th of Bhe'ăchyzh, forty-six days from today. It may sound like a fair distance away, but time has a habit of running when you least expect it, and even after Jhorhea and Rheža I don't know if I'm looking forward to it. Kykherhenha tells me I should be used to it by now, but it's just those first few days when the cub clambers up to your chest, and takes nourishment from your left teat, and your right teat, and your pouch teat. Now mind you, after Jhorhea and Rheža climbed all over me and Rhalhea for the first two days or so, it wasn't so bad after that. After that Mama and Papa were kind of taken for granted. When I was a cub I guess I was the same way. It was like, This is where I drink, this is where I sleep. And to think this will last for one whole year before she is out of the pouch permanently.

Khe'ăr has gone to the Department of Immigration building to do nothing at all, as he put it. He says his age may be thirty-four, but physically and mentally and emotionally his age varies considerably. Sometimes he feels ten years older and sometimes he feels ten years younger. He wishes he could discard the older Khe'ăr Dhoren and just keep the younger one, but, as he says, We are all in this one body, and I have to live with that.

Lheana has gone to the Shopping Center to set up a booth to sell her Tereskàdian fur sweater, plus other clothing that she has made. Because of the weather, I doubt that she will sell many items made with our fur, but she has decided to lower the price. If I were an Alharhanian I would take advantage of this Buy now, and save 50% deal because Te'hănian winters can be mighty chilly. When the weather gets colder, Lheana said, she will charge full price. Buy now, save now, sounds like a pretty good deal.

Rhalhea is at the university, teaching the younger students. She has become a very popular teacher, and the students are always eager to attend the classes. She wants to know if I want to come back to the university, if not as a regular teacher, maybe as a guest lecturer, teaching Tereskàdianology to the senior students. Do you remember what Rheôvhan's brother, Sayan, once said? Of course I did. It was aboard the ill-fated Pharhaj Měrhas, and Sayan told Thyros Mharen, The only expert on Tereskàdians is another Tereskàdian.

Oh, yes, that may be, but I wonder if it still holds true. There have been so many Tereskàdianologist in the past and present who have studied every aspect of our lives, from birth until death and everything inbetween. They have discovered things about us that we Tereskàdians didn’t even know, and that is because we take ourselves for granted. I mean, when we mate, does a male really care about the size of his organ, does a mating couple really care how long they are locked together, does a female really care how long the gestation period is, does a nursing couple really care how long the cub is in the pouch, or how long she nurses before she switches to the milk of her whistling dragon? These numbers were all supplied by the Alharhanians who studied us because Alharhanians are obsessed by numbers and dates and statistics.

I am sitting on the back porch, watching Kykherhenha in the sky. She is flying over the waters of Te'hănys Bay, and she tells me that it is considerably windy up there. The chill that is ruffling her fur is also affecting me, and I decide to go inside. I wait for her to join me, and when I step into the living room, I see Fhenha standing there. Puzzled, I asked her what she is doing home from school. She says she isn't feeling well, that she threw up at school, and on the bus. She wants to know where her mom is so I tell her she went to the Shopping Center. And Dad? He went to work. She starts to say something else, but instead scoots off to the bathroom.

If I know the Dhoren children, when one of them gets sick, the other ones are sure to follow. I don't have to worry about my cubs, because Tereskàdians do not get sick, but I always feel sorry for the children. Two days, sometimes three days, vomiting, diarrhea, general lethargy. Lheana calls in Sen Mhon'hăl and he can't do much except prescribe some medicine, but the illness usually runs its course naturally.

That is all I'm going to write today. As soon as Fhenha is done in the bathroom, I will put her to bed, and tell her to try and go to sleep.

K'hăr. 16.99/Day 99

A new month is upon us. In two and a half weeks it will be summer, a dreaded word as far as Tereskàdians and whistling dragons are concerned. The weather this past week or so has been rather cool and rainy; the cool I didn't mind, but the constant drizzle I could have done without.

I am writing this in Khe'ăr's study because I wanted to get away from the others who are home on M'hărt'hărn. Today, the 8th, is Te'hănys' Independence Day. Two hundred and seventy-seven years ago, Te'hănys was part of a huge country that was ruled by an emperor whose main claim to fame was conquering other countries and absorbing them into his own kingdom. In the years 5415 to 5422 the section that eventually became the country of Te'hănys decided to rebel against this emperor. The Seven-Years War culminated in the assassination of the emperor and the declaration of independence for Te'hănys. Ever since then, Te'hănys has celebrated its independence on the 8th of K'hărhachyzh.

The Dhoren children and my cubs have been home for the last three and a half days, and right now they are whooping and hollering around the house, until Lheana finally tells them to quiet down. I don't mind, really; if they get a little too loud, I can just turn down my hearing.

Khe'ăr says we should all go down to City Hall to hear a speech by President Ten Arbhonhal, but I'm not really interested. At least not at the moment. It irks me sometimes to listen to these politicians read something written by someone else, and making it their own. If the words are not your own, then they are lies. Now that, of course, is the opinion of a Tereskàdian. It reminds me of something S'horel Thalen once said: Why can't a Tereskàdian ever become a politician? Because he is too honest.

Ugh, I don't know how I got on the subject of politics. As I look out the window by Khe'ăr's desk I see Jhorhea and Rheža running ahead of the four Dhoren children. Arhen and Fhenha are all excited about being outdoors and near the water, but Nykha and T'heril seem to be bored. I know they would rather be with their friends, but Khe'ăr had insisted that they stay home today and spend time with the family.

Seeing them in the nude makes me wish that when it is hot like it has been earlier last month we Tereskàdians could just unbutton our fur and take it off. Kykherhenha asks me why I would have a silly thought like that, and I tell her I don't really know, it was just something that popped into my head. She wants me to stop writing and join the others at the beach, but I'm not ready yet.

The children and the cubs have three and a half more weeks of school before they get the entire month of F'hărnhachyzh off. An entire thirty days with teenage feet, and little feet, and little paws pitter-pattering around the house. The little ones will want to play all day; the teenagers will want to visit friends, or have their friends visit them. Yes, it sure has been fun talking with Nykha and T'heril's friends, especially those who, despite all the literature, and all the media coverage about us, seemed to be totally ignorant about us. Why do they suck on the teats? Will I wake up if they scratch me? What if the cub gets too big for the pouch? Really interesting questions. Of course you try to answer them to satisfy their curiosity.

Have I told you that Lheana celebrated her thirty-third birthday on the fifth of this month? The children made a special dinner for her, and they told her that Jhorhea and Rheža helped a lot, and she thanked everyone, giving her children, and mine, hugs and kisses. That was sure a far cry from about ten years ago, when she didn’t want to have nothing to do with us. It is just too bad that all Alharhanians could not be persuaded that we Tereskàdians are not mindless animals. But hopefully there are more like Lheana out there.

I wanted to keep this entry short, and I'm sure going to try. Kykherhenha, however, thinks otherwise, and she is lying down, waiting for me. But I must tell you about Rheža and her little project that she did in school earlier this month. Even though she is still five years old, she is now in the second level at the university, because she will be six in about nine weeks, and because the new school year starts at the beginning of the year. Since she started school last year (even though she was only four), and it was the first level, this year she is in Level 2. She has told me and Rhalhea that she is learning to draw and print, and she is even making sentences. Mind you, these literary efforts consist of very short sentences, and rather personal descriptions and anecdotes, but it seems that her teacher is rather fond of these, and has critiqued them with such phrases as, Good work, Rheža, or, I love to read your stories.

I'll give you one example which she wrote just four days ago. It consists of an assignment that the teacher gave the class, telling them to either draw or write about a part of their body they really like. Rheža wrote… or rather printed the following:

I really like my tail. We Tereskàdians all have tails. My tail is long and bushy. It has a black tip. It moves back and forth sometimes. But most of the time it goes up along my back. The black tip hangs down. Kids think my tail is really cool. Papa says my tail is important. It helps me sleep. Papa says no one should pull my tail. I think Phel'hor Veseânrhech wants to pull my tail. But he doesn't. I also got sharp claws. I like my claws too.

K'hărhachyzh 8.99/Day 91