LOVE LIONS ALIVE by Andi Rive

  Two things… 1)     1)   Is it not truly amazing that one can think: “oh... let me write down this thought”, and one reaches for a flat metallic item, opens it and begins typing to the world? 2)     2)    I am busy watching a cooking programme. In fact I watch every cooking programme that I can find. Yet I do not really cook. I do not have more than a camp kitchen and even before living in a tent, as my children will attest, I only cooked because I had to keep them and my animals alive. Except on special occasions when I would apply myself. The program I am busy watching is about chefs from different countries and styles of cooking. Every expression is celebrated. From cookie milk to crème Brulé. Granita, brioche, and springbok potjie. My mind wonders to my world (this being the world of lions and sanctuaries). I think about the respect shown between various chefs and styles of cooking. Pastry chefs nodding to sushi chefs. Sugar arti...

And all that Jazz... Jazz is a little cross breed of Staffie and Border Collie blend. She came from the Animal shelter in Harrismith in 2014 after her stray mother had been fatally hit by a car and she and her siblings delivered via cesarean section.   Jazz is 2 weeks older than Taai, but being a dog, and not a lion, she has always been smaller. The size difference was not as disparate though, when they were still two babies sharing a dog basket. Jazz successfully chewed her basket into pieces and then proceeded to move into Taai’s bed with him. She used her nips and Border Collie genes to herd him and stay on top. Sometimes she even sat on top of him literally. We would laugh at this saying to ourselves that it would not last as the lion outgrew the dog, but it lasted, even when Taai was a sub-adult, he and Jazz carried on as if they thought they were twins. They sat bolt upright alongside of each other on the back seat of the car, their heads at a similar level. They ...

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. Everyda...

Bolts are are being bolted and keys turned in locks. The people of South Africa are locking themselves inside their homes as of today. In our case it is a matter of zipping up the tent. I can hear the lions romping and running, their feet pounding on the earth the sound reverberates through the canvas walls. I hear two of them have a tussle, lion moans turn into a few quick growls answered by snarls. Lions do this, they have spats, the thing is that spats from large cats are more intense in sound than that usually heard in alleys. But it is quickly over and the snarls evolve into roars. The royal proclamation is take up by surrounding lions and within seconds, 6 of the lions are in full roar. The baboons answer in a frenzy of screeches. I can hear rocks hitting rocks as the baboons throw smaller ones down onto the boulders below. Birds of a dozen varieties whistle and sing. In fact, as I listen I am amazed at the number of sounds I can here from my lock down spot in the tent. There ...

 Fetching carcasses for the lions    I’m sitting on a log in the shade of a shed on a game farm in Zululand, writing whilst carcasses are being loaded onto the truck. I don't have a photo which captures the beauty of the landscapes I describe. So here I am writing this blog. It was Woman’s Day, a National holiday, but I had been called to collect 2 dead cows down in Kwa-Zulu Natal. I very reluctantly left Bell Street where I was spending the midweek holiday with Shanead. My parents were in Jhb where my Dad was both consulting with his patients as well as consulting a heart specialist about his own symptoms and Phillipa was helping my sister Chantal with her divorce case. So Shanead was alone and we were enjoying the time in a proper house. She was cooking lunch for the two of us and at the same time working on a Biology project at the kitchen counter. Before leaving I needed to ascertain whether it was necessary for me to take the trailer or if the cows were s...