Most people who see you with a rhino on a leash will be a little spooked.
They will cross to the other side of the street. Try not to take it personally. They have an idea about rhinos, about their intentions and abilities and have heard and read many stories about rhinos that have gone rogue. (Most of the rhinos that have gone rogue were also trained specifically to go rogue, but those details are often missing.)
You were sold on a gazelle. You wanted a buddy with whom to walk around the city, the mountains, the world. Something exotic, but tameable. Something independent, but pretty. You signed on the dotted lines. You took the gazelle home to its tiny gazelle crate and fed it gazelle kibble. But six months later, the tiny fluffy gazelle grew a fat head and a barrel chest and chameleon eyes and taste for (licking) human flesh. You are now the owner of a rhino. This is not what you expected. Therefore, there are are some best practices to consider for a beginner like you.
When walking your rhino in the city, people will pull their hands, their children, their gazelles closer to them. They will smile at you nervously, gauging whether you’ve got the stones to keep your rhino from attacking them. The rhino is oblivious to this. He smiles with his giant mouth full of powerful chompers, delighted at the opportunity to greet someone new. The rhino wants to meet the world, wants to see it all, wants to taste any inch of novelty he can find - including the exposed calf of a man checking his mailbox.
Remember that a rhino may seem tough and scary, but he has a lot of insecurities, a lot of questions, a lot of uncertainties- just like anyone. Just like you. The rhino’s hackles might raise when he sees a baby stroller crunching along the sidewalk in his direction. An old woman carrying trash bags. A snowman. Halloween decorations. A fire hydrant. A flock of geese. Two antique lion statues standing motionless on a front porch. The rhino will look at you with scared, watery eyes, as if to say, are we cool with this? Offer your palm. This is his signal to touch your hand with his wet nose and remember that he is safe.
The rhino has thick skin, but his paws are sensitive. Should he encounter a pebble or a burr or too much salt on the winter sidewalk, he will dramatically stop walking and pitifully hold up one paw to your attention. Simply rub the paw clear of debris, and say “Ouch! All better?” Ninety-nine percent of the time, this works. The rhino agrees and continues to trot along. It is all better. If it doesn’t, and he still seems slightly agitated, offer a kiss on his forehead. This should do the trick.
Speaking of winter, once the days start to shorten and the night comes earlier, it’s highly recommended to purchase a yellow reflective vest for your rhino. This may seem unnecessary - who could possibly miss a rhino? The answer: at least one man, driving quickly and recklessly around a corner who hits you and the rhino at a full clip- throwing you into guttural shrieks and the rhino to roll under the tires and then scamper terrified onto the nearest lawn. The man will stop his car only after you’ve pounded on it as he continues to drive by, and will then get out and say “what happened?” like a stupid idiot. “You just ran over my rhino with your car?!” you ferally shout at this dumb moron. “I didn’t see you” he says like a brainless heap. You’ll gather the rhino, who is deeply terrified (mostly because of your shrieking and sobbing) and rush him to the emergency vet in hysterics. They’ll do lots of tests. They’ll take X-Rays and MRIs and blood samples. The rhino is, miraculously, not bleeding internally and is apparently completely fine aside from some road rash on his back legs. “What a tank” everyone says. You nervously laugh and agree, exhausted. Despite your rhino being inexplicably fine, the vet bill will be well over $500 - which you alert the brainless heap to (you made him give you his phone number.) He says he’ll see what he can do. The next week, he will venmo you a total of $20.
Avoid this situation entirely, if possible. Your rhino is precious cargo. Purchase a glow-in-the-dark collar and a flashing light-up leash and a neon yellow Paw Patrol-esque dog vest that reads “Safety Pup” in teal Comic Sans MS.
This may not be true for all rhinos, but certainly for some, the presence of rain can be deeply upsetting. Should you find yourselves caught in a surprise drizzle, he will look at you with utter confusion and discomfort before quickly ducking under any surface that may keep his head dry. To plan ahead for this, fashion a bandana around his neck, and if it rains, readjust the bandana to tie under his chin and cover his giant head, babushka-style. He will be grateful his velvet ears aren’t wet and will continue about his business unbothered.
The rhino tends to have some extrasensory perception for when your final destination in the car is a trail, a dog park, a friend’s house. He will whine and grumble and yodel all the way there, reaching a crescendo as you pull into the lot to park. To avoid startling the other hikers and patrons, roll your windows up to keep this song of excitement contained in the car. They don’t see rhinos every day, let alone a singing rhino. Best not to frighten these folks too much.
Luckily for you, walking your rhino on a trail in the woods will be a pleasant, easy experience. After all, rhinos like to protect their people, and they can’t protect their people if they can’t see them. Rhinos also don’t like to be alone (unless they are curled up on a heated blanket.) Even when you walk on the street, bound together by a leash, every block or so he will look back at you and will smile to see you haven’t disappeared since the last time he checked. You can bring some chicken or jerky on the hike if you really want to, but rest assured that your rhino will not stray out of your field of vision for long. He might find a promising stick fallen from the canopy (score!) but will grab it excitedly in his mouth and, ever spatially-unaware, slam it into every tree and rock on his way back to show you this treasure.
Again, expect some prejudice, no matter how well-behaved and friendly the rhino is. Watch out for ladies wearing red lipstick and designer sunglasses on an off-leash trail in Boulder who tell you the rhino should really be on a leash because he is “scary-looking.” Do your best to keep this information from reaching the rhino. He doesn’t want to scare people. He wants to lick them. Most people will silently have some thoughts and feelings about the rhino when they see him, but others will say these thoughts right out loud.
“Well, you’re a very handsome man.”
“Hey big guy!”
“I wouldn’t wanna mess with you!”
One man will quickly tell the person on the other end of his phone call to hold on a second and ask, “What kind of gazelle is that?”
The rhino will grow, and grow. (Despite this, he will also enjoy being referred to as Teensy Tiny Baby.) Friends, strangers, family will remark each time they see him- Wow! Was he always this big? Aren’t gazelles supposed to be smaller? Even others who walk their towering giraffes around will nervously remark at the rhino’s size: his density, his muscles, his sheer force. The rhino is busy, of course, happily licking the mouth of the giraffe. The rhino can never have too many friends. (The term “friend” will soon become a loaded word, which signals that he is about to see people and animals that he can romp with. Therefore, use this word strategically.)
Proper preparation is essential for walking your rhino. As is plenty of affection and validation for the rhino’s massive feelings.
You are alike in that way, you’ll realize. You’re a little intimidating to strangers, but just looking for someone to lick. Singing at the top of your lungs at the joy of seeing your friends. Filled with big feelings inside a silky sleek body.
I love your rhino and his car yodeling songs :)