Yesterday I was walking up the path to the main offices. No one was around to talk to, so naturally I was talking to myself. I said something very witty, cracked up, then actually fist bumped myself. Only slightly worse than giving yourself a high five. Sadie McIver: killing it since 1994.
I'm sorry I haven't been writing regularly. I've been crazy busy what with readying the preschool (the kids have their first day on Monday!!), or helping with cheetahs and other animals around the reserve. I am simply exhausted.
Which is what lead me to commit murder.
No not really, but I bet you are wondering about the reasoning behind the title of this post, aren't you?
Picture me holding a bloody knife. Nail beds stained red, hands and arms covered in gore, laughing excitedly as I wave around a chunk of severed spinal cord.
Yes. It's true. Yesterday I helped cut up meat to feed the cheetahs, and managed to tear out a piece of spinal cord which is just cool. Spinal cords look like string cheese. Only with more tiny veins running through them.
I took the videos I posted on facebook as I stood in the back of the flatbed throwing hunks of donkey flesh to the rapidly approaching cats. No easy feat. You try standing up in a truck that's going 40 across rough terrain, all the while trying to point your camera in the general direction of the cheetahs. Oh and trust me, a lot of the footage I got was of nothing but the ground, having missed my target entirely.
Being out in the desert is pretty interesting. Its cold enough every night to sleep under a comforter, and when I wake up I always think "Oh we're going to have a cool day aren't we? Better grab my cardigan!" By noon I'm sweating profusely and on the verge of heatstroke. Then evening roles around and I'm wearing a scarf, complaining that I'm chilled. Well no, not complaining. More observing.
At night a group of us will wander off, beers in hand, laughing about nothing as we stare up at the blackened Namibian sky, alight with billions of stars. We point out Mars, or Jupiter, and any constellations we know, our eyes trying to find every piece of beauty in the world around us. And then I become increasingly paranoid that a leopard is surely lurking nearby, ready to pounce. I'm not sure if that adds or subtracts to the magic of the moment.
The cheetahs are pretty wild. There are a few that were raised with humans, and those can be brushed and have other human contact. Most of them we have tried to keep distant from people. We feed them, but the general idea is to be able to release them back to the wild one day. The reserve is HUGE. I will get an exact acreage for you at some point.
Last night it poured rain (you wouldn't know it, the ground is still parched.) and I worried about the cheetahs. I know it's natural for them to be exposed to the elements, but the image of all those poor, soaking wet kitties just made me sad. Upon further inspection I now know that the rain did not phase them whatsoever.
Today is my day off. I have spent it nursing my blistered feet, reading The Zombie Survival Guide, and drinking numerous instant cappuccinos. I also took a nap.
Anyway, I must go. I need to review the proper stance for hand to hand combat with the living dead. Just in case the apocalypse happens while I'm here.
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