Terrors of the Savannah

I have a long-standing debate with my dear friend Mo regarding the disposition of kangaroos. While she maintains that they are, by nature, cute and/or cuddly, I hold to the opinion that they are aggressive, vicious beasts to be respected and feared.

I am right, of course.

At dinner on my first night in Arusha, I learned that there is another animal equally misunderstood and life-threatening. My eyes have suddenly been opened to the horror of animals I hitherto believed to be graceful, gentle herbivores.

Giraffes are cold-blooded killers.

I really wish I was being glib or flip or sarcastic, but the hard truth is that giraffes are incredibly dangerous creatures. It was not immediately apparent to me exactly how giraffes go about killing people. Not biting, obviously, as their heads are in no way proximal to humans, unless you are up in a tree or something. I once saw a YouTube video of giraffes thwacking each other with their necks, and while it looked painful, it didn’t look like it could harm humans on account of our collectively short stature. So how, you ask, do they wreak their havoc?

They kick you.

It makes sense, when you think about it for a second. Giraffes are 49% neck, 49% legs, and 2% everything else. If I ever took a course in physics, I could make some comment about pendulums and fulcrums and velocity, but I am very obviously out of my wheelhouse. Just take my word for it: giraffes should be admired from afar and never ever approached on foot.

For real real.