Eaten Alive

I was channel-surfing the other day and landed on the National Geograpic Channel. I remember when TV nature shows were of a gentler bent.

First you'd see a pride of lions sleeping, the antelope nibbling on a bush, the lions now awake and alert, the antelope flicking it's tail and looking around nervously, the lions hunting as a pack, the antelope panicked and running, the lion leaping with outstretched claws, a pile of dust...then the lions are lolling around, cleaning themselves off while the cubs play tug-of-war with the leftover tail.

Today it's all about the mayhem. This time the lion leaped on the antelope's back, another got it by the throat, another took it's legs out, there was a frantic moment rolling in the dust as they disembowled the antelope like it had a zipper on it's belly...then the feeding began.

It was ghastly. The lions didn't waste time to finish the kill, and just began feeding right away. The antelope lay on the ground, it's rear leg twitching feebly trying to push the lions away, with it's head up watching the lions eat it.

I'm a boomer, and once I slipped past fifty, I began to appreciate the finality of life. The "It's not going to happen to me" attitude changes to, "I wonder how it's going to happen to me". I have pet ways I'd rather not go, like burned at the stake, airplane crash or being crushed.

But at the very top of my list, is being eaten alive. Part Two later