Meet ‘The Dude,’ the Snow Leopard Who Might Just Be a World Record Holder

If you thought your house cat knocking over a lamp was peak mischief, wait until you hear about The Dude.

This brawny snow leopard in Mongolia’s Tost Mountains isn’t just flexing his muscles—he’s allegedly breaking records, shredding camera traps, and giving researchers a masterclass in feline audacity.

Oh, and he might be the heaviest snow leopard ever documented. Talk about a cat with attitude.

A Camera Trap Menace

Since 2016, researchers in the South Gobi’s rugged Tost Mountains have been tormented by a particularly savvy snow leopard with a taste for high-tech snacks.

“This guy has the rather irritating habit of eating our trap cameras,” says one exasperated scientist.

At least four cameras have met their doom at his paws, their final photos capturing his smug face mid-approach before the screen goes dark.

Think of him as the Houdini of camera traps—if Houdini also enjoyed dismantling gadgets like a toddler with a Lego set.

But The Dude’s pièce de résistance came recently. After a camera monitoring a collared female (dubbed F10) and her cubs went missing, the team found it destroyed.

Batteries were scattered like confetti. The memory card? Vanished. “It takes effort to remove that without thumbs,” the researcher adds, half-impressed, half-annoyed.

The Dude’s Close Encounter

A few days later, karma struck—or maybe The Dude just got cocky. He wandered into a “cat-friendly” snare 200 meters from the research camp.

When scientists arrived, they found him chilling like a villain. “He didn’t try to escape. He just sat there, staring us down,” recalls the team.

When they approached, he flopped on the ground—possibly plotting a pounce. “Lucky for us, he was stuck,” they admit.

Then came the scale moment. The Dude tipped the scales at a whopping 53.8 kilograms—nearly 8 kg heavier than the previous record-holder.

For context, that’s like a snow leopard swallowing a Thanksgiving turkey and still out-sizing his peers. “He had a belly full of ibex meat,” says the team. “Without that snack, he’d still be around 52 kg. Either way, he’s a unit.”

If verified, this could make him the heaviest snow leopard ever recorded. Move over, Guinness—there’s a new king in town.

Nickname Drama: Zlatan vs. Sudden

After collaring The Dude (scientifically labeled M15), the team debated rebranding him. One researcher pitched Zlatan, after Swedish soccer legend Zlatan Ibrahimović. “Both are big, confident, and skilled.

Zlatan pounces on goals like this cat pounces on ibex,” they argue. Another lobbied for Sudden, inspired by hockey icon Mats Sundin. “He’s a wildlife lover and a beast on ice,” says fan Gustaf.

The stakes? High. “Whoever sends a signed jersey first wins naming rights,” the team jokes. (Zlatan, if you’re reading this, now’s your chance to cement your legacy alongside a literal apex predator.)

The Human Hero: Surenkhuu’s Fight for Tost

While The Dude dominates headlines, another hero emerges 1,500 miles away: Surenkhuu, a herder in the Tost Mountains.

Her community of 100 families has fought for years to protect this snow leopard haven from mining giants. In 2016, their grassroots campaign convinced Mongolia to designate Tost a State Nature Reserve—a landmark win.

But the battle isn’t over. A mining company now threatens an oasis just outside the reserve. “This is illegal,” Surenkhuu insists, battling them in court using her own time and savings.

Recently, she won the David Shepherd Conservation Champion Award, boosting her fight. “This lifeline came at the perfect time,” she says in a heartfelt video. “Thank you to everyone who voted.”

Why This Matters

Tost isn’t just The Dude’s playground—it’s home to a dozen snow leopards, a critically endangered species with fewer than 7,000 left globally.

The region’s mineral wealth lures mining companies, but Surenkhuu’s resistance highlights a stark truth: conservation often hinges on local heroes. “She’s protecting a biodiversity hotspot with sheer grit,” says one advocate.

Meanwhile, The Dude’s GPS collar will beam data for 18 months, offering insights into snow leopard behavior. “He’s probably out there right now, eyeing another camera,” laughs a researcher.