AFRICAN PAINTED DOGS

ALONE WITH AFRICAN PAINTED DOGS

SIGHTINGS OF
/This critically (ENDANGERED)
KEYSTONE SPECIES

are far and few between, making it a privilege to be in their presence. The temperature is steadily rising and by 11:00 am it’s well over 95 degrees in Mana Pools National Park in northern Zimbabwe. The wind against my face in the open vehicle is stifling. We’ve seen elephants aplenty, a massive herd of eland, some jackals and a whole lot of baboons, but no dogs. It’s time to head towards the river and make the long way back to camp. I try not to go into the bush with expectations - it’s a surefire path to disappointment - but truthfully I’m feeling a little bummed.

THEN, SUDDENLY, COMING UP

The Embankment from the River

I SEE A FLASH OF BLACK AND WHITE

And Then Another, and Another.

MY GUIDE IS LOOKING THE OTHER DIRECTION SO I WHACK HIS SHOULDER AND HISS, “DOGS!”

HE THROWS THE VEHICLE IN PARK

Grabs his Rifle and Instructs Me to Get Out.

I’m already on the ground before he’s finished his sentence. We then begin a military-style crouched approach, as low to the ground as possible, across the open area of the flood plain and toward the edge of a ditch. A pack of fourteen critically endangered African Painted Dogs have crossed in front of us and are now cooling off in the shade of a Zambezi Fig tree. With numbers at an estimated 6,000 left in the wild, African Painted Dogs are as endangered as black rhino. As I sit down on the edge of the ditch which separates us from the dogs, they begin communicating with their distinctive chittering sound. It’s surreal to hear such a high-pitched noise coming from a large predator, like a cassette tape being eaten. Sitting so close to this pack and hearing this sound feels incredibly special; it’s an experience very few people will ever get to have.

/TO 2022

FROM 2017

THEIR EARS PERK UP

MOVING LEFT
/And right (ALWAYS)
LISTENING

It’s now almost 12:30pm, and I’m roasting in the sun. There’s also a giant thorn in my right butt cheek but I won’t notice that until I’m back at camp. I am simply bewitched by the dogs and don’t notice anything else. Their ears perk up, moving left and right, always listening. Their tails flop silently up and down. They nuzzle each other, curling up together: a family. One particularity of this species is that they will never abandoned a sick, injured or old pack member. Eventually we decide to move closer, crawling down the ditch towards a tree stump for cover. At one point I’m not low enough and a female stands upright and growls at me; I flatten myself to the ground. We make it to the stump and I put my camera to my face just in time to catch some teenage pups play fighting. Painted dog sightings are so rare; we stay for a while, just watching, listening and being with them.