Rhinocerous have always appeared to me to be elusive, other-worldly beings. Most people, including me, who have been lucky enough to see a rhinoceros in the wild don’t usually speak about them with the same emotional furor used when talking about elephants, big cats or gorillas.

The rhino’s pre-historic coats of armor don’t inspire warm and cuddly feelings.  

And, although I was always elated to see one on safari, the emotions were ephemeral, a result of understanding how rare the sighting was.  

All of that changed when I met Max.

After reading Daphne Sheldrick’s book, Love, Life and Elephants, I visited her elephant orphanage in Kenya. Although the main attraction is the orphaned baby elephants, at the end of my visit there I noticed a large fenced in area separated from the elephants stalls.  

Inside was an intimidating bulk of animal – a one-and-a-half-ton rhinoceros. “That’s Max,” one of the caregivers told me. “He’s blind.”  

I approached the enclosure and stood next to the green metal gate. As soon as I began sending out a heart felt connection toward Max he turned and walked straight towards me from the  opposite side of the enclosure.

PETTING A RHINOCEROUS

Two lethal looking horns projected from the front of his head as he maneuvered his body sideways against the steel bars that separated us. 

I reached my hand through the slat. Doubting he could sense my touch through rhino skin that felt dry and gritty like sandpaper, I began to scratch. I rubbed around his face, ears, and cheeks. 

His head sunk incrementally lower and lower toward the ground as his neck muscles gave way to my rhino massage.

And then he closed his eyes and moved towards my hand so that I was touching his belly. He wanted a belly rub.

Then I heard a long low sigh coming from deep inside of Max’s physical and emotional being.

Is he crying? I wondered.

Found blind and motherless, I learned that Maxwell was brought to the elephant orphanage at the start of 2007.

As I continued to stroke his belly I began crying.

Weeping for my lack of understanding of this magnificent animal, and for all the pain inflicted on his species.  

RHINO POACHING CRISIS

About 1,000 rhinos are killed by poachers annually, and there are an estimated 25,000 left in the wild. 

The poachings have a mafia-like level of sophistication, and the prices fetched ($133 per gram of powdered horn) equal profits rivaled in drug and sex trafficking.

The rhino’s horns are brutally hacked off their faces (fatally wounding the animals) and then shipped to Laos, China, and Vietnam where the horns are used as high-level gifts by governmental officials and other wealthy business people. 

The crazy thing is, the horns are made of keratin, the same substance of our finger and toenails.

Good News for Rhino

On most of my Kenya safari itineraries I include the Lewa Wildlife Conservancy. The place started as a rhino sanctuary and has become a model of conservation worldwide. Working with the local communities in the area Lewa has had zero rhino poaching incidents for many years so tourists are basically guaranteed to see wild rhinoceros. 

When I told Max’s caretakers at the Sheldrick orphanage that Max seemed to be crying while I caressed him, they replied, “No, no, he wasn’t crying. He was happy,” they said. “He loves to be touched and he especially loves to be tickled.”

Rhinos love to be tickled. The words flipped my heart and head around. But then I found myself asking, who doesn’t like to be tickled?

Since meeting Max the rhinoceros whenever I now see a rhino on my safaris I feel an emotional connection to the sweet, sensitive, misunderstood rhinoceros being.   

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WHAT YOU CAN DO TO HELP SAVE RHINO FROM EXTINCTION:

Donate to Saving Wild and we will send your money to the best organizations helping to save the rhino from extinction. To make a donation, go here.