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We humans have a peculiar habit of elevating certain animals above others, tethering our emotions to them as if they exist outside nature’s brutal laws. From my own experience, three creatures ignite the deepest sorrow when they perish: dogs, whales, and elephants.

Dogs are family—our companions shaped by millennia of shared history, their loyalty etched into their DNA. Losing one cuts with a familiar, personal ache. Whales, like humpbacks or blues, drift through the oceans with a grace that feels timeless, their haunting songs giving the illusion of permanence; when they beach or fall to hunters, it feels like losing something ancient and irreplaceable.

And then there are elephants. They embody patience and memory, creatures with minds that rival our own. A mother endures 23 months of pregnancy to bring a 200-pound calf into the fold of her tightly bonded herd. When that calf is torn away by a lion or a hyena, it’s not just a death—it’s the theft of years of effort and protection, a generational wound.

But nature doesn’t care. It never has. The wild is an indifferent machine, running not on justice or sentiment but on chaos, instinct, and chance. We love to imagine hierarchies: noble animals, worthy of survival, and lesser ones, dispensable. But the wilderness laughs at our charts. A leopard doesn’t pause to ponder an elephant’s wisdom—it sees only flesh. An orca doesn’t honor the grandeur of a whale—it senses an opportunity to eat.

Everything in nature bends to one merciless truth: outsmart or outrun what wants to kill you, or starve chasing what doesn’t. No creature is sacred. There are no favorites here—only the lucky and the unlucky, all poised precariously at the edge of existence.

A single mistake spells death, whether for the vulnerable or the apex predator. Even the hunter isn’t safe: a few failed hunts can turn strength into weakness, hunger into fatal exhaustion.

Our grief, our reverence for these animals, changes nothing. The wild is a relentless game of survival, where every player, no matter how beloved or ignored, faces the same cold odds: run fast, think fast—or be reduced to nothing more than sustenance for something else.

[📹 russ_wildlife]

https://video.nostr.build/e02dc270e0bd908c83af6470b430aa8560471226ca798ad0dd8e381c1f7b3a27.mp4

Noe Jaskolski 7mo ago

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