There must have been that moment, long, long ago, when humans found their first home. I can just picture that cold, rainy day, one of our Neanderthal ancestors newly down from the trees, wet and exhausted. Suddenly he notices a hole in the side of the rocky hill. He creeps into the musky cave - shelter at last! He gestures to his weary family and they all crowd in. He sits down with a sigh of relief - and the next moment he jumps up in alarm as a tiny creature squeaks, leaps up from the dirt and bites his finger. A wild chase ensues until finally the little animal dashes out into the cold. I can just imagine our craggy ancestor standing there at the door of his new home, shaking his bleeding finger and shouting, "...and stay out!"
We all want our homes to be own little havens, safe and comfortable, where we can find shelter and privacy. Yes, we like nice decorations and comfy furniture, but the most important rule is that nature is supposed to stay out there. Inconvenient visitors like bugs or stray animals are not welcome.
But we still have those times when some creature wanders into our home. Suddenly we realize nature isn't as obedient as we'd like - and we have to take action. Lately for us it's been box elder beetles, crawling on the porch and sneaking in one by one to end up waving their antennae cheerily from every coffee cup. Or it's Asian beetles, those stinky, ladybug lookalikes that camp out on the ceiling all summer. We've had tree frogs on our windows and bees that needed to be carefully caught and escorted outside in a Dixie cup. But we've never had a leopard.
So I was interested when recently a video went viral of a 12 year old boy, Mohit Ahire, in Maharashtra, India. He was sitting playing a video game when he looked up just as a leopard strolled in off the street. Yes, a leopard. It walked in the open front door and ambled calmly past him into the other room, like it was just looking for a comfortable place to chill for a while.
Watching his reaction, I got to thinking about all the unexpected visitors we've had in our house over the years. We live right across from a wetland, and non-human neighbors often wander in. I remember when we first dug our basement, there was a heavy rain the next day that filled the bottom of the hole with muddy water. When we started to pour the cement - mind you, this was only a few days later - the water in the hole suddenly came alive as hundreds of frogs leapt out, climbed up the sides of the hole and disappeared into the grass. They were very pleased with the pond we'd provided them, and not at all happy to be displaced. Sorry, fellas!
Then there was the time a few years back when we had a chipmunk living in the house for a while. I was sure there was something wrong with my eyes - I'd see a flicker off to the left or the right, but whenever I turned my head it was gone. I shrugged it off at first, but then the cats noticed out we had a visitor. When both your cats crouch down and stare under the stove for hours at a time, you know something's up! He finally up and left - at least, I hope so. Either that or he was someone's supper.
But the most exciting visitor was the huge snake. We were building a connection between our old house and the addition, so things were a little, shall we say, ventilated. One quiet afternoon I was sitting with a book and a cup of coffee when I looked up to see a large pine snake emerge from a hole in the wall and slither slowly across the kitchen floor. He stopped in the middle of the room and flicked his tongue up and down, checking us out. Our old dog who was napping on the kitchen floor opened his eyes, gave a yelp and leaped to his feet to run over and cower behind me. Both cats sat up and stared at it intently, and then looked at me accusingly, clearly saying, "We do not approve. What are you going to do about this?"
Pine snakes are harmless, just to be clear, but I hadn't the foggiest notion how to make him leave. So we all sat there in a tense silence, staring at each other. Finally the snake got bored, I think; it did a perfect U-turn, slid silently back into the hole and disappeared. Then I ran and grabbed a board and hammered it over that hole!
Excuse me, I can hear you say impatiently. You started telling us a much more interesting story. What happened with the leopard?
Before I tell you the rest, let's stop a minute here and imagine yourself in his situation. If a leopard walked into your house, what would you do?
Personally I'd probably scream and run out into the street with my arms flailing, gibbering and shaking and behaving in a way that I'd be embarrassed to view on video later. But that boy - a kid who'd barely reach my shoulder and probably weighed maybe ninety pounds sopping wet, looked up, surprised (to say the least), and then as soon as the leopard walked into the other room he calmly stood up and walked out of the house, taking his phone and carefully shutting the door behind him.
If you watch the video, you'll see it speed up until approximately half an hour later, when about thirty men, looking extremely nervous, crowd into the room, milling around and getting in each other's way. At some point someone with a tranquilizer gun pushes through the crowd and manages to aim it and tranquilize the leopard in the other room. Fast forward again to thirty guys shuffling past, carrying the peacefully sleeping leopard out on a blanket to a truck. They still look nervous. The leopard looks smug.
Happy endings for all: the leopard was taken to a safe jungle spot and released, thirty guys had a great story to tell their families over dinner that night, and the young boy, when the video went viral, was hailed by millions for his quick thinking.
Somewhere I can picture that Neanderthal, sucking on his sore finger, nodding in admiration.