Sneak attack

Kristen,

I was going to write a post about leopards. I was going to write, "Guess what Georgia has?" and you'd try to guess but you'd never guess because who would ever think that Georgia has leopards?

Surprise!

Actually, for a while, no one did. It was thought that the Near Eastern (or Persian) leopards in Georgia were extinct. Recently, an unmanned camera captured images of a male leopard, looking rather well-fed. Scientists named him Noah, and Georgia once again has leopards.

Well, leopard. It may just be Noah right now. But the World Wildlife Fund has begun a program to re-introduce leopards into the Caucasus, which sounds like a great idea.

Or rather, sounded like a great idea until a couple of days ago when I saw this photograph:

That is a man experiencing a leopard sneak attack in India earlier this week. In all, six people were mauled and the leopard was killed.

(Interesting fact: What's the difference between a leopard and a panther? Nothing! Panthers are all-black, sure, but it's the same cat.)

Anyway, I was going to write a whole post about leopards and how exciting they are, but then I got sneak attacked by circumstances, leopard-style, and there's bigger news to report.

My departure date for Georgia has been delayed. I was supposed to arrive in Tbilisi on July 30; now I won't arrive until August 10. I am not jazzed, but I'm learning to channel my anger into other things, like people driving under the speed limit, punk-ass teenagers, and Chris Brown's continued existence.

The email I received said I will need to start my journey two days before my arrival date. In my mind, this conjured up images of strapping my bags to a donkey, carefully descending a mountain, sharing a crowded bus with a bunch of tanned manual labourers, possibly catching a train, and then finally a flight to Georgia. I feel like I should be packing a steamer trunk and a wide-brimmed hat with silk scarf. If you look at a map on August 8-9, you'll see a red dotted line tracking my progress from Milton to Toronto to New York to a small refueling island in the Atlantic to Munich to Istanbul to Tbilisi. I'm sure a prop plane is involved.

Really, I'll probably just fly out late on the eighth, have an absurdly long layover on the continent, and hang around Canada long enough to see The Smurfs.*


*Wouldn't that be hilarious if I was serious? Get smurf'd, indeed.