15:07, Thursday, 7 June, 2012

Darting – officially one of the most amazing things I have ever done.  And the last three have involved quite the experiences.

Tuesday Eli darted Radon.  As I was taking teeth measurements, we looked up to find three lionesses not 75 meters away and coming closer, clearly unafraid and the leader swishing her tail back and forth in what appeared to display an appetite for mischief.  They must have smelled the cruiser, still reeking of the meat it no longer contained.  Well, pardon my French, but there’s nothing you can possibly think when you have a sleeping hyena laid on a stretcher before you, tools everywhere, and look up to see lions approaching but “Oh, shit.”  Well, we obviously had no choice but to finish elsewhere.  Quickly loaded Radon and jumped in the back of the cruiser with him and Eli while Benson kept an eye on the lions and the other three shoved the tools away.  Luckily we were able to finish a couple plains over unscathed.

Wednesday we darted beautiful Shadowfax, and found out he is a she.  It’s hard to tell from regular observation when the only really reliable difference in cubs and subadults is a pointed (male) versus a rounded (female) tip of the phallus, which is not always out in the first place.  I measured teeth and took bacterial swabs, quite fond of those two jobs.  As I was going for the occlusal surface of the lower third premolar, Shadowfax pinched her jaws together slightly, and I found my finger being squeezed by hyena teeth: Ouch.  Someone pried her mouth open for me and no damage was done, but I sure as heck would not want to be bitten with any sort of force behind those jaws!

Today was my favorite darting yet, although also heartbreaking and angering.  We darted Obama – the hyena, not the president, no worries.  We won’t have the FBI coming after us.  She’d had a huge snare constricting her neck for quite some time now; it’s incredible that she survived.  This hard metal snare was many times the thickness of most snares, about that of a pencil, and it’s a testament to the strength of hyena jaws that she was able to chew out of it.  Kay cut the snare off, and we dressed the enormous wound with what seemed like gallons of antibiotic powder, along with some corn flour to assist in clotting.  Poor Obama; how awful!  She must have been in some severe pain.  But the feeling of having freed her was so great that the thought of becoming a wildlife veterinarian is suddenly extraordinarily attractive.  It just felt so wonderful to be able to help with conservation in such a direct way.  It’s hard to say whether we get further with theory and education or hard labor against such attacks on wildlife.  What is plain is just how frustratingly slow science and education and the attempt to spread a sense of moral responsibility can be; it feels like fighting a losing battle, and can become quite disparaging at times.  Just the other day Eli found the severed head and paws of a lion.  You have to wonder if things are improving at all sometimes.  Yet the only thing there is to do is keep fighting regardless, because our world would already be decimated otherwise.

But drawing back from that tangent, I had the honor of riding in the back of the car with Obama, keeping her steady.  I pet her and held her gushy paws and applied more antibiotic powder when the pus started to ooze again, and then the height of true love –  I pulled several tics from her.  Found myself singing quietly to her in a way that the others couldn’t hear.  Good ole Obama.  She is going to be fine now.  I can only hope this is a good omen for the election.  Perhaps Barack will win despite the snares of greed and misconception that all too often suppress the voice of democracy.  And Lord knows Romney is a name that will never be given to any hyena in the president’s lineage regardless.  The only thing more pathetic would be a hyena named Bush.