So far, the highlight of my days here are the moments I spend with Duma & Letotse. If I could, I would sit with them all day taking catnaps. Just being in their presence is an enriching experience...a gift of nature. Their eyes are riveting...deeply focused amber orbs with a mesmerizing calm intensity. More so than any other big cats, whose retracted eyelids become wild with rage during prey pursuit, the cheetah keeps its upper eyelids midway down its eye to shield harsh sun glare (diurnal predator whereas lions & leopards are nocturnal) and for extreme focus on its prey. Its black tear marks running from the corner of its inner eye to the outer corner of the mouth helps keep sunglare out of its eye. It is believed that cheetahs hunt by day to avoid stronger nocturnal predators because they are often chased off their own kills by larger carnivores (primarily lions & hyenas; leopards prefer to do their own killing and rarely scavenge). This forces the cheetah to eat quickly at the kill site since the inevitable smell of blood carried in the wind or the circling vultures overhead will produce uninvited dinner guests at the carcass. Cheetahs also hunt by day since they don’t need to rely on the cover of night due to their speed advantage. Lions & leopards are ambush hunters since their prey (primarily antelope) can outrun them. They need to stalk their prey and begin the final sprint much closer to their prey than cheetahs, who can make up ground much quicker. As a result, kill success rates are much higher for cheetah (estimated up to 50%) than for lions (estimated at 10%). These kitties also have differing methods of bringing down their prey. Cheetahs use their dew claw (the last claw on their inner paw) to trip their prey and then they lunge for the throat bite to suffocate them (their jaws are generally not powerful enough to break the spine unless it’s a small antelope like a steenbok or duiker). Lions & leopards will simply sink their claws into the back of their prey and bring them down by sheer weight and force. Then, depending on the size of the prey, they will either bite the back of the neck to break the spine or go for a throat or muzzle bite to suffocate. It is largely unknown what the leopard’s kill rate is since there are very few research projects producing credible data on one of nature’s most elusive carnivores (as is the case with the South American jaguar). However, it is generally accepted by biologists that the leopard is the most efficient hunter of all the big cats. It’s fast, powerful, versatile, unseen, and above all, ruthless. Last year before I arrived here at Mokolodi, a leopard with an infected foot wound was here in the cages being treated. All of the attending vets said that there is nothing more vicious in the animal kingdom than an injured leopard.
I often wonder, just for dumb amusement, who is pound for pound the strongest animal in nature. Like one of those internal brain puzzles we pass the time with on long road trips, while daydreaming in school, or while waiting in long lines. Its probably something boring like an ant but if we are just talkin’ mammals...I’ll put my Franklins on the leopard. Who else can lift over twice its body weight up a tree...and dead weight at that!
Everyday at 2pm, I prepare lunch for Duma & Letotse. It’s a 3 meal rotation of either donkey, rabbit, or chicken. If its donkey, we thaw frozen pieces of meat that had been butchered and stored. I carve up about 2.5 lbs of meat per cat per day and sprinkle it with calcium powder, depending on the bone content of the meat. Cheetahs don’t have the jaw strength of lions or hyenas so they generally only nibble on the ends of rib bones. If its chicken, we go to our coop and bring out 2 live chickens, decapitate them, and de-feather them. They don’t get sprinkled though since the cats can eat them whole, bones and all. If its rabbit, Mmamarapelo goes to our cages, pulls out 2 live ones and kills them by blunt force to the head. Cats eat them entirely as well. I have been avoiding the rabbit murder spree so far since I haven’t found the space in my head to come to peace with it. I think I’m suffering from “cute & cuddly syndrome” since it’s much easier to kill a chicken than a rabbit. Lincoln, our Kenyan conservation officer, comes to pick me up with the truck and we take the meat and a 5 gallon tank of water out to their enclosure, nestled in the bushveld about a 5 minute drive. The cats hear the sound of our motor and are waiting at the corner of the fenceline. As soon as we pull even with them in the truck, they start running along side us to meet us at the gate. They do this bizarre thing where, as they get close to finishing their meal, they swap with each other and begin gnawing for any last bit of scrap meat on the bone of the other cat. Then as soon as they’re done eating, they transform from voracious bloodlusting meateater to irresistible house cats. They begin grooming each other by licking the blood off each other’s faces. Its so cute it’s sickening. Then they walk off and look for the nearest shade tree to drop their bloated bellies.
I often ride my bike out to them for a dawn or dusk visit. They are always lying within 10 yards of each other and often being purring when I approach. Unlike lions, leopards, tigers, & jaguars, cheetahs do not roar. (Hence, they are not part of the Panthera species grouping). They are a unique cat in that they branched off the evolutionary tree of Felids much earlier than their cat relatives. Even though these 2 cats are habituated to humans, I approach slowly to make sure no one is in a cranky mood. I check them for ticks and pull off some big nasty ones occasionally. I treat them with Frontline medicine at the nape of the neck for tick control. They seem to know that they’re being looked after and they reward me with loyal affection. They grant me the pleasure of stroking them; not just a surface pet but a full on deep tissue massage. The kind of satisfying affection that causes your face to contort by drooping your eyelids, protruding your lower jaw, and flaring your nostrils. Under the chin, on the cheek, behind the ears, on the topside of the rump. All the tingling places which make cats loopy. I’m certain that when I leave this place, my time spent with these cats will be the deepest memories.
Rumors spread like butter across the park and despite their best efforts, they could not contain the secret that a baby elephant had been born today. Everyone here is anxious to visit the little trunkenstein but the handlers are keeping all staff away. The Indian owner of the elephants is keeping to strict Hindu tradition to avoid bad luck. There is something specific involving elephant births in regard to ancient tradition of Sanskrit culture but Im unsure what it is. I had heard loud unusual cries from across the park earlier in the day and I told Mothusi that something was being hunted and killed. Turns out it was an elephant in labor.
Feeding Mochozi, our new young male cheetah, has given me a pretty good idea of what it feels like to be hunted as prey. He’s as wild as they come and resents humans with passion since he suffered under the cruel ownership of some abusive farmer. Because of his new surroundings and the fact that there are two adult male cheetahs which share the fenceline with him just next door, he is extremely agitated. During his first week here, Duma & Letotse (7 yr old brothers) greeted him with territorial snarls & hisses from the other side of the fence. Despite this intimidation routine, Mochozi (6 month old cub) charged them and dished it right back. There is tall grass and thick cover of scrub & trees in his enclosure so he has a zillion perfect hiding spots. I have to go inside to feed him every day but I’ve been instructed to find him first and drop the meat about 30 feet in front of him. I walk in, praying that I see him before he smells me, with a bloody slab of donkey in one hand and my Louisville Slugger (a thick tree branch) in the other. He crouches low to the ground so often I only see his two ears popping up from the grass line. Once I break his comfort zone (about 40 feet), he rushes at me, with his fur sticking strait up from his arched back and a fiendish snarl…just like a Halloween kitty, only spotted, not black. He’s all claws & canines, aggressively slapping the ground with his forepaws while lunging uncomfortably close to me. The first time, it was drop the meat and retreat. It was a mistake that I won’t make again. From the outset with any potentially dangerous animal, you must win the control game by establishing who’s boss. Not in an abusive circus way with whips & chains but with the mind. During subsequent feedings over the first week, Mochozi continued to come at me but he stopped short. With my trusty stick extended and holding my ground with a firm voice, my fear was safely hiding behind my adrenal glands. As long as I can create the illusion that I’m the boss of us, than I’ll be fine (HH!). I imagine it’s been must-see tv for Duma & Letotse tuning in from the other side of the fence.
Duma: “Look at that pathetic human. Who does he think he’s kidding?”
Letotse: “Yeah, Mochozi is just letting him feel superior cause he’s delivering lunch. Wait til he goes in there without food.”
Duma: “Yep, that’ll be a good episode. Let’s make popcorn and tape it.”
It’s apparent that Im going to need to refine Mochozi’s manners while hosting my visits. I suppose my expectations of a cup of decaf with a slice of pie was pushing it.
Every evening around 8-ish, I deliver our baboons’ last meal of the day. It’s a short walk from our house to his cage but its pitch black and I usually need a flashlight. Not tonite. The full moon, still low and heavy, lit up the night sky. Bob Blue was there, waiting patiently for his dinner. Sometimes, he is fast asleep with his head on the ground and his butt in the air, like a child who fell asleep while thumbsucking. He hears me open the cage door, wakes up groggy & wobbly, eats in a bleary-eyed haze, and then goes right back to sleep.
On cloudy or moonless nights, making this walk is an event in itself. Most animals are either nocturnal or crepuscular and I always catch the reflections of eyeballs with my flashlight. I never know what’s staring at me but Im certain Im being watched by a variety of game. My favorite scares occur when, without warning or even noticing that they are present, a herd of antelope (usually Kudu) bolt off from just under my nose, a crashing stampede of hooves & broken branches disappearing into the night.
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