Several years ago when I was on safari in Kenya, I remember learning an interesting fact--the most dangerous animal on the continent was the hippo. I have to admit I had a hard time believing that fact. After all, I was coming face to face with larger than life elephants and lions whose roar sounded quite ferocious and leopards who could leap down from a tree faster than a human could blink an eye. Every time we spotted a hippo, he was floating in a river and the most we ever were able to see were the two big eyes on the top of his head, peering out at us.
How could the hippo be the most dangerous animal?
How could the hippo be the most dangerous animal?
Still when we were on safari, the only time the guides carried rifles was when we were in the vicinity of the hippo. And the only time we were allowed to get close was when they were in the water. So precautions were being taken, whether we realized it or not.
Fast forward to this year. Chuck and I decided to go to the Philadelphia Zoo. To see the hippos. This time we weren't separated by a river of water, like when we were in Kenya, with guards who carried loaded rifles--just in case. A mere wire fence
separated Chuck and I from the most dangerous animal. And actually there were two--a boy and girl hippo--and from where we stood, staring at them, they seemed pretty NOT dangerous to us.
Chuck was more skeptical than I was. I'd heard the stories. I'd read the literature. I knew that on land, hippos could move their bulky bodies rather quickly. And when they opened their mouths, my oh my, if Chuck ever ended up in between their jaws, he would be a mere snack.
So I was the cautious one. When Chuck begged to get closer--his bright idea was to climb over the fence and stand on the edge of the water so he could get a better look--I said, "No. As far as I'm concerned, we're close enough."
When you travel with a curious cat, you have to be firm. And sensible. So we stood there and watched as their keeper fed them large quantities of veggies--entire heads of lettuce that they gobbled down in one bite. It was a wonder to watch. Thankfully, it was enough to convince Chuck.
We had no close calls that day. And one glorious show. Hippos are amazing. And the best part was--we lived to talk about it!
separated Chuck and I from the most dangerous animal. And actually there were two--a boy and girl hippo--and from where we stood, staring at them, they seemed pretty NOT dangerous to us.
Chuck was more skeptical than I was. I'd heard the stories. I'd read the literature. I knew that on land, hippos could move their bulky bodies rather quickly. And when they opened their mouths, my oh my, if Chuck ever ended up in between their jaws, he would be a mere snack.
So I was the cautious one. When Chuck begged to get closer--his bright idea was to climb over the fence and stand on the edge of the water so he could get a better look--I said, "No. As far as I'm concerned, we're close enough."
When you travel with a curious cat, you have to be firm. And sensible. So we stood there and watched as their keeper fed them large quantities of veggies--entire heads of lettuce that they gobbled down in one bite. It was a wonder to watch. Thankfully, it was enough to convince Chuck.
We had no close calls that day. And one glorious show. Hippos are amazing. And the best part was--we lived to talk about it!
