It's hard to believe that June was Bumpy's first full month with us — our tiny, enchanting hippo has become such a beloved part of the Kaluku patchwork!
Even as babies, hippos spend the majority of their day in water. Bumpy is no exception. Just after sunrise, he plods out of his stockade and makes a beeline for his pool. His Keepers follow close behind, but he doesn't need any guidance to get there — he knows exactly where to go! Bumpy's pool is his happy place and his centre stage. As he gets bigger and stronger, his swimming routines are becoming even more intricate, featuring an ever-changing choreography of barrel rolls, bobs, dives, dunks, and relevés across the pool floor. One of his favourite moves is to float on his back, with only his round belly and flapping feet visible above the water.
Of course, all this water dancing is tiring work. Bumpy often stops for a nap, his body fully submerged save for his head, which he likes to rest on his Keeper's foot. In his nighttime stable, Bumpy curls up on a soft mattress, which is tucked right beneath his Keeper's bunk. You may be sensing a pattern — Bumpy is a very cuddly hippo.
Initially, the other Kaluku orphans took a polite-but-distant interest in Bumpy. They didn't seem to know quite what to make of the corpulent little water creature. But this month, all aloofness dissipated. Gruff, Bibi, and Moshi the buffalos are particularly smitten. Buffalos are wallowing creatures, so it's not entirely surprising that they would gravitate to Bumpy's pool paradise. Gruff, who loves attention from any source, is particularly affectionate towards his new hippo friend.
Another special friendship has emerged between Bumpy and Wangalla. Kaluku's littlest elephant usually only has eyes for her Keeper, Misheck, but she seems to have a soft spot for Kaluku's littlest hippo. They make for an adorable, if oddly matched, pair. Wangalla tries to get Bumpy to do elephant things — one day, she generously attempted to toss red dust over his body, never mind the fact that she still can't dust herself! — while Bumpy seems quite bemused that she won't join him in the pool. These interspecies friendships are always fleeting, but so special to witness.
Korbessa continues to be a wonderful nanny to Wangalla, but there's one privilege she's not willing to share: the coveted hosepipe. One afternoon, Wangalla reached for it just as Korbessa was enjoying a drink, and the older girl swiftly snatched it out of her reach. Wangalla took the rebuff in stride and toddled off to entertain herself in a nearby dust pile instead.
Lamuu and Sibu, meanwhile, have settled into an easy friendship, forming a delightful little girl gang led by Korbessa. It's a change of pace at Kaluku, where boys have outnumbered girls for several years running. Interestingly, however, Lamuu and Sibu show none of Korbessa's nannying instincts when it comes to Wangalla. Both were rescued relatively recently and at older ages, bearing the physical and emotional scars of traumatic, human-inflicted injuries. We suspect they still have some healing of their own to do before they're ready to take on a nurturing role.
Last month marked Kaikai's first rescueversary, and it's very gratifying to reflect on how far she's come over the past year. After her mother died of natural causes, Kaikai was found desperately trying to suckle from an adolescent bull. She spent her first nights at Kaluku pacing and crying in distress. Slowly, with loving and patient care from her Keepers, she transformed into the confident, feisty princess she is today.
That confidence is on full display each morning, when Kaikai can be found perched by the milk-mixing area, ears flapping impatiently as she urges her Keepers to hurry along. Once her bottle is finished — always at her own unhurried pace — she moves on to chase, push, and twirl her beloved tyre. She's also stepped into the role of nanny herself, watching over Bungalu, who was rescued in February. He seems more than happy to play second fiddle to his bossy, devoted big sister.
There's not much to report on Pips this month, which is exactly how a giraffe likes it. True to her nature, she remains a quiet, near-omnipresent fixture — somehow managing to be everywhere at once despite being the tallest member of our herd. It's not unusual for someone on the team to round a corner and find her resting nearby, long legs neatly folded beneath her, usually within sight of Bombi and Brutus the zebras, the buffalos, or Bumpy and Musumbi's pools. Wherever Ginger the Grant's gazelle happens to be, Pips is rarely far off. Like Twiggy before her, she has thoroughly mapped every acacia tree around Kaluku and knows exactly which leaves are worth the reach.
Chamboi is growing into a proper black rhino — friendly one moment, feisty the next, and endlessly curious. The faintest unfamiliar scent, be it a wild elephant, a warthog, or a waterbuck, is enough to send him off to investigate. His Keepers follow close behind, coaxing him back before his curiosity carries him too far. Once the exploring is done, Chamboi takes up residence in the mud bath or beneath the big, shady baobab tree.
Over at Rhino Base, Apollo continues to do well. As Tsavo dries up, his zebra companions have moved into his browsing grounds with renewed commitment, clearly having decided his patch is the place to be. Apollo, for his part, seems to have made peace with the arrangement — dare we say, he might even enjoy the company.
