"There is definitely a change of
thinking. Cattle farming is not bringing in the big bucks,"
Tristan Boehme, a shareholder in Okonjima, said in an interview.
"Tourism is growing. With that, the value of wild animals
grows, and with every animal having a greater value, farmers will
say, 'I don't mind. You can come and release a cat on my property.'
"
That is more or less how AfriCat began.
With their own cattle farm struggling the Hanssen family invited
hunters and birdwatchers to their lodge in the mid-1980's to earn
money. Then in 1987, they took pity on a cheetah cub displayed in
a bird cage at a cattle auction, and took the cat home. A monitor
lizard followed, then a honey badger, then a baboon named Elvis,
then another cheetah, Caesar, and a hyena, Dracula. The Hanssens
gradually came to see cheetahs as a perfect marriage of animal welfare
and business.
They founded AfriCat in 1991 and now cover
about 40 percent of its expenses with proceeds from Okonjima, the
upscale lodge and bush camp they run. Donors helped them fence off
10,000 acres of their land as a sanctuary. Escorted by guides, Okonjima
guests track cheetahs on foot or watch from the safety of a Land
Rover as guides feed hunks of meat to crowds of the purring, chirping
cats that roam fenced-off enclosures within the reserve.
The key to is release the rescued animals
- usually on other farms - before they lose their fear of humans.
But some must be held back, including cubs who were orphaned or
kept as pets until the owners decided they were no longer so cute.
One such cub was Dewey, an orphan who arrived
at Okonjima in 1997 with his brothers Huey and Louie. The three
were kept for two years before being fitted with collars and released
into the larger reserve to see if they had the skills to survive.
At first, they thrived. Then anthrax killed
the two brothers, and Dewey, pining for companionship and roaming
outside his old enclosure, had to be taken in again and paired with
another male cheetah.
Early this year, Dewey and the other male
were released once more into the larger reserve. The second male
refused to hunt, but Dewey fared well until June, when Okonjima
guides found him lying listlessly beside an oryx he had killed -
but not before the oryx gored him.
Luckily, the horn had missed all his vital
organs, Stitched up and treated with antibiotics, Dewey was released
for the third time. "He already had his first kill that same
morning," said Mr. Masika, the Okonjima guide.
Now, after eight years and three tries
at AfriCat, Dewey is a prime candidate for relocation. "He
looks like he has a good chance," said Mr. Boehme, the shareholder.
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