Think the Black Death is just a grim tale for medieval history buffs? Think again. When a patient in northern Arizona died suddenly of bubonic plague, it was a reminder that history isn’t always content to stay in textbooks—or buried with prairie dogs. Old horrors may resurface, but our best response is simple: stay curious, stay cautious, and never underestimate nature’s weird sense of timing.

Meet Veer Narmad South Gujarat University, where new building plans now come with a side of sacred livestock. Instead of sticking to blueprints and budget meetings, the university is calling in cows—for a month—to cultivate “positive energy” and fix nagging campus headaches. Curious how bovine residents and a cow-centric curriculum landed in higher ed? You’ll want to read on.

What happens when evolution’s oddball takes the scenic route to safety? This week’s pronghorn rescue—part road trip, part understated teamwork—offers a gentle reminder: sometimes the strangest stories slip by quietly, rescued not by spectacle but by someone who actually looked twice. How did a giraffe’s distant cousin end up in a New Mexico subplot? Read on for all the curiously grounded details.

Is Rochester’s late-night lurker a vanished cougar making a dramatic comeback, or simply a housecat that needs to lay off the fancy feast? Security cams, curious neighbors, and incredulous officials are on the case—because when suburbia collides with the unexpected, the line between ordinary and outrageously odd gets very blurry (and a little furry). Click through for the full, claw-tapping saga.

You never quite expect your concert neighbors to have paws, but that’s exactly what happened at Red Rocks Amphitheater during Russ’s “Into the W!ld Tour”—where two black bears calmly joined the waiting crowd, blending in with surprising decorum. Is it just fitting coincidence, or nature’s slyest RSVP yet? Sometimes, the best acts are the ones you didn’t see coming.

Just when you think you know what’s beneath your feet, Denver’s Museum of Nature & Science uncovers a rare dinosaur vertebra—sitting quietly 763 feet under the parking lot. Proof, perhaps, that even planned engineering projects can stumble onto prehistory. Makes you wonder: what oddities are hiding under your own driveway? Dig into the details—if you dare.