We had such bad news today, to whit, the death of our Serval cat. There were a number of vets here again to try one more operation in the hope it would locate a fixable problem, but again he became so unwell it was not possible to continue. That was this morning. He was so ill that euthanasia was discussed at that time, but they held off until 4 pm, at which time all agreed it was the only thing to be done. He was euthanized and slipped away very quickly.
A somewhat macabre thought came to me then - what do we do with the body? Obviously wild animals eat each other all the time - would we feed our little chum to the lions/crocodile/snake? Was this a cruel suggestion? Or just practical? Or shocking and reprehensible? Or all of these things? Being nosy, I could not let the question go unasked. So I considered very carefully, using all the tools and techniques available to me through years of professional training in social work and people care, and wording it as sensitively as I could manage, I cornered Alma, our animals rehab manager, in a dark corner, and whispered softly in her ear “Are we gonna feed ‘im to the lion?”
Alma was gracious, and considered the answer carefully. And the answer is, as I suspected, no. And for lots of excellent reasons I hadn’t thought about.
1) We had been injecting our little chap with a number of drugs, we would not want our animals to ingest these as they may prove harmful
2) we don’t know what he died of, there may be some malignant infection or bacteria that again might harm our other animals
3) we must by law hand the body in to the authorities responsible for disposing of dead wild animals. First they would establish the reason for this death through post mortem, which our own vets would attend. This helps to establish what is killing wild life in the area, and if there is anything illegal going on it should be identified and tackled. Secondly, they would incinerate the animal to ensure it could not be used for bush meat and its coat/nail/teeth etc could not be sold and used. In this case, the Serval cat’s coat is very valuable, but of course this feeds the trade the government is (supposed to be) putting a halt to.
Our glorious leader, Alma, then led us to the pub - or its equivalent here in Malawi, and we left the security staff to guard the Sanctuary, and those feeling the need got blootered/bladdered/soused. Days of carefully tiptoing around the clinic and central grounds so as not to distress the little guy with unfamiliar noise - the catching of a range of foodstuffs to tempt his appetite - the 24 hour shifts and repeated phone calls to various involved parties, even the fending off of phone calls from newspapers still convinced we harboured a leopard in our midst - all had come to an end. It would make things easier here on base, but not our minds. We loved the little chum the minute we took him and wanted him to survive so much. He was quite astonishingly beautiful, his coat so rich and colourful, his face so unusual with those enormous hopelessly out of proportion ears - it all just makes you love them more, of course.
Here’s hoping to have happier news tomorrow.
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