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Feelings, Nothing More Than Fee-eelings before/after I watched this documentary about a family of meerkats. It detailed the social community that makes up these desert rats, something like the aftrican equivalent of the prarie dog. The documentarians followed the family around, and gave cute names to each, giving notice to the social activities of each, and the role they played in the community, those who stand guard, those who grub for food, and so on. And so on. At a certain juncture, perhaps a critical moment in relation to the development of a brood of meerkats, a jackal moved into the meerkats territory, and separated a few from the rest huddled safely in the den. One, a young female, the most adventurous of the lot, baited the jackal away, and the rest scurried to the den. Her task done, she returned to the den. The jackal wandered away for a bit, but came back. She, being either brave or foolhardy, taunted him. The jackal caught her this time, and she barely got away. She returned to the den with a grievous wound, a head wound, that made her grey fur wet, continuously. She could not keep up with the group as they foraged the next day. Her strength waned. The following day, she could barely move from the den. One, her mother, stayed, and lay her head upon the injured meerkat. The others huddled around. The day grew long as days do, and one by one, the family moved away, needing to feed their growling bellies with hot tasty grubs. But not the mother. The mother stayed, with her head upon the wounded meerkat, as if to console her. Consoling her. Comforting her. Night fell, and the next day came. The wounded meerkat shivered, and looked considerably diminished. She climbed out of the den, her mother at her side. She wandered off, her mother trailing off in the distance. Finally, getting away from the family, she laid down. With a gasp, she died. I don't really know what happened after that. The documentary was over for me at that point. It made me sad, but I liked it very much.
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