Anyway, it felt like a long five minutes to watch that ordeal, and by the time the baby was reunited with its nerve-wreck of a mother, I was sitting on the couch bawling my eyes out. Which is pretty much what I did when I visited The David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust (except I restrained myself to only crying on the inside). There I was lucky to get up close and personal with a whole bunch of orphaned baby elephants. Especially the young ones, who looked so sad and fragile, tugged violently at my heartstrings, but I really took comfort in the fact that the toddler ones seemed to be having a really good time, frolicking in the mud, chewing on branches and getting bottle-fed by their substitute, green-clad male human moms.
All in all, I got one word for you, if you ever get the opportunity to go: GO!
|This is not even the saddest picture I got. The saddest one I got is not suitable for this blog space, which I strive to keep perky and happy.|
|These guys have the coolest job ever, and they know it.|
|This one had clearly entered its independence stage.|
|Look at that wrinkly tush.|
|This one tried to do a downwards dog but failed.|
|I don't know what this one was doing, but it seemed to enjoy itself. As did I watching it.|
|I'm not sure, but I think they cover them up in these blankets when it's chilly and it's time for bedtime stories. "Squeeeee", as the girls say.|