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The day before, the day I arrived, was a transport day, and that meant the pack hadn’t been seen in the afternoon. At first we were concerned that another dog had been injured, perhaps hit by one of the hunter’s cars (who were watching the pack as well). Falakhe is still alive, as is the dominant male in his litter.
We searched for walks that started and ended near public transport, as we were going to get a ticket- MyMulti 3 -that would let us travel wide and far unrestricted each week. Ferns were prominent and it was very easy to walk quietly due to all of the damp leaf litter. Imagine a grey peacock…well it’s sort of like that!
I followed his call, but so did Emily The Hunter. Before I could even process his presence and figure out what to do, I heard the scrapes of Emily’s paws on her litter box in the guest room bathroom. Outside he went, transported in plastic, back to his home in the wilds of suburban West Palm Beach.
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