Up close with a rhinoceros

Have you ever touched a live rhinoceros? It is a unique experience.

A white rhino weighs around three and a half tons. They are docile creatures, despite their size and large horns. As long as you don’t taunt them or get in between a mom and her calf, a rhino is not a threat.

At least that’s what the books say. Rhinos have poor eyesight, and a few years ago, we met one who hadn’t read the rule book. Our family was self-driving through the Pilanesberg Game Reserve, two hours from our house. We turned down a windy dirt road and startled a large rhino who charged towards our car. I had to reverse full speed up a stone-strewn twisting road to escape. When we reached safety, I turned back to see my kids’ chalky faces. If we see a rhino on safari, they prefer I give it a wide berth.

That changed this past Wednesday. On a day trip to the same game reserve, we ran into a group of park rangers. They were on foot in the bush, so we stopped to ask what they were doing. A friendly ranger explained that they were tracking rhinos to remove their horns. Poachers kill these endangered animals for their horns, which some believe have medicinal properties. The Rhino Save and Protect team removes the horns to protect the rhinos. “Want to watch us sand down their horns?”, one offered. “It might take an hour or more until we find the next rhino, but you can follow us if you’re interested”.

Five minutes later, we saw their chopper hovering in the distance, signalling they had found more rhinos. The anti-poaching team roared past us, and we followed their dust cloud. 

The helicopter pilot weaved and dived ahead, a crack shot leaning out of the chopper to dart three white rhinos. We pulled in behind the lead ranger’s car as the first rhino sunk to the ground, sedated. We doubted if the team would allow us to get close, but felt excited to be metres away from the actions. I snapped photos as they started tagging and prepping the beast for his procedure. A ranger walked towards our car, and we were sure he would ask us to stop taking videos. Instead, he whispered, “When the big guy is fully asleep, please come out of your car to join us.” We couldn’t believe our mazal!

Two minutes later, he motioned us over. We stepped into the surreal world of wildlife healthcare. The crew chatted as they efficiently ran medical checks and replaced a tracking device on the rhino’s ear. “They roll around in the mud and damage the transmitters,” one explained, “so we have to replace them.” He showed us that the rhino’s horn had started growing back and needed to be planed down.

We didn’t want to get in the way, but they insisted we get up close and personal. They encouraged us to feel the tough rhino hide, behind his ears and the rise and fall of his breathing. Once they had sanded down the horn, they asked for my phone and directed us to pose for pics with the massive mammal. In minutes, they were done and ordered us to the safety of our car so they could inject stimulants to wake their bush patient. We thanked them and set off, grateful for this once-in-a-lifetime experience. Even if we didn’t see a big cat all day (we didn’t), that experience was a highlight of all our years visiting the bush.

Five minutes into our drive, we saw the chopper team corral and dart another family of three. This time, I caught the aerobatics up close on camera. Herding animals from the air to set them up for sedation is a unique skill. Darting a target moving at 50 kph from a flying machine is superhuman. These guys don’t miss. 

It got me thinking about personal challenges. Chassidic thought teaches that we all have a wild animal inside. We don’t believe we can constrain it. How do we reel in raging desires, control untamed thoughts and manage rough relationships?

We need a chopper. When we fly high, we see things differently and can calm an otherwise unmanageable beast. When we feel stuck in toxic habits, we need a lift. Chassidim would say we should stand “a tefach higher” than the rest of the world. People often feel trapped by their personalities, mistakes or circumstances. Torah raises us to an altitude from which those overbearing problems shrink to specks. When flying with Torah wisdom, we can anaesthetize the animal we believe is too strong to wrestle.

Is a rhino without a horn still a rhino? Yes, albeit a vulnerable one. Ironically, the defenseless animal is safer without his horn. A medicated Animal Soul is healthier than a brutish one. The Talmud paraphrases Hashem, “I created your yetzer hara, toxic inclination, and I created Torah as its remedy”. A dart of Torah subdues our feral side.