LIFE GOES ON FOR THE BIG CATS (lockdown)

In Lockdown with Lions  

ZEBRA PUZZLE

We have a jigsaw puzzle of a dazzle of zebras which we planned to do during our quiet lockdown evenings. It lies on top of my chest of drawers under the Mx5 paintball rifle and a pair of binoculars, it is still tightly wrapped in its plastic jacket. We bought it to keep ourselves gently distracted from stress during lockdown. 

I had also planned to write a bit on this blog every day during lockdown, because we would have so much free time. I romantically pictured myself and this laptop atop a boulder looking out at the expansive view, or tucked up in the shade under a bush alongside the lions or even typing away at the fireside with a cup of hot chocolate in the star filled evenings.

What I had failed to consider was the fact that the only thing that really changes at the sanctuary because of no guests being able to visit, is the 100% cessation of an income. Other than that everything carries on as per usual. Everyday one or two cows die somewhere on a farm within an 80km radius of us and we have to collect them and process the meat for feeding the cats. The cats themselves know of no international affairs. For these animals, even being able to see a few hundred meters into the distance is possibly a concept of such enrapturing magnitude that it keeps their minds engaged during their awake hours.

One change during lockdown is the absence of our right hand man. He could simply not keep himself within the bounds of the lockdown regulations and had to venture out and about thus rendering the whole thing redundant and forcing us to ban him from returning to the lions after spending time fraternising with the public. 

The trivialization of this lockdown can be seen every time I drive off the sanctuary to fetch a cow. Groups of people congregate along the roadside in their town clothes hitch hiking this way or that. Horses and cars gather outside of rural homesteads waiting for their passengers to finish a game of stones.

I have seen substantial numbers of men around a kraal bidding on cattle at livestock sales. 

I totally understand that to rural South Africans, the reality of the virus is simply not felt. Life goes on. 

I feel for the people who are truly stuck inside their isolation rooms, houses and apartments unable to be with loved ones, trying to beat this thing by keeping to the rules. I think of all the business that stand closed, peoples' lifework stalled. What will happen in the end of the day if we cannot contain this, and have to go another round because lockdown 1 failed? I mean on a business level, financially. How will any of the normal business owners manage to keep going? The domino effect, of that, will surely be felt even where now the illness itself is not physically felt.

So without our right hand man, I fall in and do his work. Admin can wait. The actuality of on the ground care of the cats trumps social media, website maintenance and fundraising awareness campaigns. Our hands are dirty, our backs tired. My knees take a minute or two of encouragement to go from bent to straight, when I rise from the ground where I have been concreting the jaguars' pool. 

We have 3 piles of laundry categorized according to the severity and type of dirtiness and the re-usability of the item.

I am subconsciously aware of the need to speak out to the world, to reach out for help with raising funds, but I am too busy and I am tired. The dazzle of zebra remains a jumble of pieces. For now. Possibly forever.