I had an unexpected emotional reaction, joy, many times on the short, three day safari in the Serengeti National Park. I surprised myself and manifested that joy by talking to the animals. Standing on a seat inside the jeep, just a few short feet from all these creatures, I told them how beautiful and marvelous they were. My dialogue went something like this: to the herd of elephants that meandered across the road just in front of our jeep I said, “Oh, my! Just look at you girls. You are magnificent. Do you even know how splendid you are?” With my hands clasped over my heart, I told the giraffes who were stilt walking in the distance, “You are truly noble creatures. Keep holding that head up high.” To the hippopotamuses wallowing in their muddy pond, “Where are you? Get up out of that water so I can see you better. Oh, there you go twitching your ear. You are alive after all.” To the marabou stork, “Good gracious! You’re huge. Was your grandmother a pterodactyl” And to the lone cheetah slinking along in a wide open field of grasses, glancing warily at the seven jeeps that were following her, “I’m so sorry we’re here bothering you. It’s not natural for the stalker to be stalked. We’ll leave you in peace now, beautiful.”
I would keep up this one-sided conversation when we stopped or even as we rolled along slowly. I reserved the bulk of my prattles for the babies. “You are so cute! You have no idea just how precious you are. Yes, stay close to your Mama. She will take care of you. She’s a good hunter.” “Oh, look at you playing with that stick. That’s right, now just roll on over to get back into the shade.” “Your Mama’s milk must taste so good. Lap it up, sweetheart.”
I didn’t talk to all the animals in this sugary sweet way. The hyenas got, “My goodness. Now you are nasty looking. Don’t be showing me your teeth. You just stay right there. And don’t go bothering that lion cub back there.”
And no, they did not talk back to me.
This behavior is not like me at all. I don’t even have pets to talk to. Some of my fellow passengers may have talked to the animals, too. I don’t know. I was in my own world, locked in with these animals. It was childlike wonder at all that I was seeing, and just pure joy in the moment.
So maybe that’s the only lesson I can take away from my Dr. Doolittle moments—be present. And ever grateful for this beautiful world with its marvelous creatures and landscapes. We live on an amazing blue and green ball, rotating and revolving eternally. The humdrum busyness of life evaporates when we take the time to truly see the beauty and diversity of our world.
You don’t have to go to Africa and talk to animals to appreciate the world we live in. Just walk outside your front door and listen for the birds. Watch the squirrels chase each other across the fence line. Pick up an acorn and marvel at the oak tree that lies within. Notice the wild variety of leaf shapes on your trees and shrubs.
And if you feel like it, tell those squirrels, “You guys are so cute! I hope you’ve put away enough of my acorns to last you through this cold winter we’re having.” Listen carefully, and they just might answer back.