ANCHORAGE, AK — In a plot twist that reads like a rejected Dateline episode meets Fargo, Anchorage’s beloved unofficial mascot, Star VII, has died—apparently felled not by age or nature, but by a masked figure wielding...an aerosol can.
Star VII, a reindeer known for trotting majestically through parades, charming tourists, and minding his own antlered business, became the center of an Alaskan whodunit after being sprayed in the face with a mysterious liquid by a masked intruder in February.
Despite initial recovery efforts, Star’s health deteriorated and he was humanely euthanized last week—leaving the community heartbroken and extremely confused.
“We feel extremely sad,” said Star’s owner, Albert Whitehead, whose heartbreak is matched only by his bafflement. “They hurt an unknown animal for some unknown reason. I just don’t understand why people would do that.”
Neither do we, Albert.
From Parade Leader to Chemical Warfare Victim
What began as a mild reindeer weight loss concern—possibly linked to someone tampering with his enclosure—escalated into an arctic soap opera.
Security footage shows someone cutting through Star’s chain-link fence (like a festive Ocean’s 11 prequel), letting the animal loose in downtown Anchorage, and then, for an encore performance, returning the next night to spray Star in the face with an unknown substance.
Whitehead, 84, who had eyes on the scene via surveillance, ran outside to confront the perpetrator—only to be told the masked figure was “trying to help Star.”
Oh. Like when you help Grandma by hosing her down with Febreze and setting her loose in rush hour traffic.
The Anchorage Police, now deep in what we can only assume is their most bizarre animal case since the 1987 "Moose at the DMV" incident, have no suspects and little to go on.
One detective is on the case—because nothing says “justice for reindeer” like a department putting exactly one guy on the case of the century.
A Legacy of Stars… and One Very Dark Chapter
Star VII wasn't just any reindeer. He came from a long lineage of local legends dating back to the 1960s, when Anchorage families decided to have a single reindeer named Star serve as a fuzzy, seasonal beacon of joy.
But now, instead of guiding sleighs, he’s guiding tears down the faces of local children and nostalgic boomers who remember when “Rudolph cosplay” wasn’t a dangerous profession.
Whether or not there will be a Star VIII is uncertain.
Whitehead, understandably shaken, said, “I don’t feel safe putting another animal in that pen.” And who can blame him? When the world sends its worst people to commit war crimes against woodland creatures, it’s hard to believe in holiday miracles.
But in true Alaskan spirit, he hasn’t ruled it out completely. “If the culprit is caught,” he said, “I would revisit it.”
Translation: Get that man a reindeer-proof security system and a flamethrower, and maybe we’ll get a sequel.
Until then, flowers continue to pile up at the site of Star’s final days. Anchorage mourns. And somewhere out there, a criminal walks free—possibly smelling faintly of spray freshener.
If you have any information about the masked intruder, the suspicious spray, or the newly discovered ongoing war on holiday mascots, contact the Anchorage Police Department at 907-786-8900.
And please, for the love of all that is seasonal and hoofed—leave the reindeer alone.
Please support my writing by donating $1 at https://ko-fi.com/wilchard1102
#JusticeForStar
#ReindeerGate
#AnchorageAntlerAssault
#MaskedMenace
#ReindeerRights
#StarVII
#RIPStar
#AirFreshenerFelony
#AlaskaMystery
#WhoSprayedTheReindeer
#MourningInMooseCountry
#AntlerAssassination
#TheNorthRemembers
#ColdCaseColdNose
#NotSoSilentNight
Comments
Post a Comment