The Lukewarm Truth: Animals take over campus during winter break

%C2%A0

 

By Luke Glaser

Welcome back, dear readers.

Ever the investigative reporter, committed to nothing less than the finest journalism of the utmost integrity, I took it upon myself over break to delve into one of the biggest mysteries surrounding the University of Kentucky.

What exactly happens on campus during winter break?

Intriguing, I know. If you were like me, naïve and assuming, you would guess that nothing happens on campus; that the breezes blow wistfully through the Patterson Office Tower Plaza and the sidewalks are barren, tramped upon by nothing and no one.

My dear readers, nothing could be further from the truth.

Several years ago, the History Channel did a series titled “Life After People,” a thought experiment during which scientists and other experts predicted how the world would evolve if humanity disappeared.

There was no need to speculate. They should have just come to UK during winter break.

While students are home, nestled all snug in their beds, an abandoned UK is overrun by an assortment of wild animals. This diverse fauna includes, but is not limited to, squirrels, bears, rabbits, the arctic wolf, the hammerhead shark, the bushy-tailed mongoose and the Novia Scotia duck-tolling retriever.

“Rawwwwwr,” said one grizzly bear, as it lumbered away to defecate in front of the Art Museum.

Without humans to care for it, campus fell into disrepair. Walkways cracked as they were overrun by grass and roots. Campus buildings crumbled into dilapidation before they were inhabited by a host of biological entities. With no humans, and a setting that looks wilder every day, UK becomes an animal’s paradise.

“It’s somewhat cumbersome,” said one UK professor who has no life and therefore comes into work in late December.

“You have to stop carrying an umbrella and start carrying this baby,” he said, holding up his Nosler M48 hunting rifle. “This

sucker will take down a bull elephant.”

The animals certainly turn the tables on humans for at least three weeks, and the hunted become the hunters.

One arctic wolf was unavailable for comment, as she was busy munching on a tasty snowshoe hare.

Fortunately, humanity returns. Everything is repaired in time for students, and by mid-January, the only animal being talked about is the Wildcat.

And that, dear readers, is the Lukewarm Truth. Not quite hot, but definitely not cold.

The editors and staff of the Kentucky Kernel neither confirm nor endorse the contents of this article. Because, really, who in his right mind would?