A massive earthquake beneath the Indian Ocean occurred almost eight years ago to this day. It launched a tsunami of enormous and deadly proportions. Roughly 228,000 people were killed, property damage was extensive, and the toll taken among the residents of the animal kingdom was incalculable. It is perhaps because the tragedy was so great and so widespread, and left us with such feelings of hopelessness, that the story of the unlikely survival of one baby hippo became a worldwide phenomenon.
The little hippo was stranded alone along the seashore when the waters receded. Rescue workers caught the 600-pound disoriented baby and relocated it to Haller Park, a wildlife refuge in Bamburi, Kenya. The little hippo, now called Owen, was placed in an enclosure without other hippos, which might have attacked a stranger. The only other consistent occupant in Owen’s enclosure was a 130-year-old giant tortoise named Mzee.
Now, Mzee had reason to be wary of the newcomer, Owen. Mzee had been buffeted about by hippos in the past and was left with a dangerously cracked shell. So you might have expected old Mzee to lumber away at the sight of his new enclosure mate, but he didn’t. When little Owen, who was frightened and lonely, sought out old Mzee and followed him everywhere, Mzee seemed to understand the little hippo needed a friend badly. Mzee tolerated Owen; he even seemed to take on the role of parenting him. When Mzee made vocal sounds, Owen mimicked them. When Mzee located plants worth eating, Owen ate them, too. When Mzee settled down for a nap, little Owen curled himself around the old tortoise’s shell, cuddled up, and slept.
The twosome became inseparable, prompting wildlife refuge workers to comment that a large, elderly, solitary reptile and a young, gregarious mammal are not expected to tolerate each other well, let alone develop a supportive relationship. But Mzee’s surprisingly kind actions had in all likelihood saved Owen’s life. Across the next few years Owen and Mzee became the hit of the wildlife refuge, attracting thousands of tourists a year, who stood in wonderment by their enclosure, watching the unlikely pair.
Today, from the distances formed by thousands of miles, eight years, and the perspective of our own species, we wonder, too. Are we as likely as the old tortoise was, when encountering an outsider in trouble, to offer our help? Isn’t an offer of help to the vulnerable especially awkward or unlikely when the vulnerable one is so different from ourselves? Yet the ancient prophets of Israel urged the people to remember the outsiders and the vulnerable, as caring for them was the behavior that most pleased and honored God.
Perhaps we could challenge ourselves in the days ahead to consider our capacity for offering loyalty, affection, and assistance to others unlike ourselves. Who are the outsiders we find hard to befriend? Who are the insignificant, the invisible, the unlovable, or the misunderstood to whom we might offer some unexpected friendship? We just might find ourselves capable of making a haven for a “hippo” or two ourselves.
After all, if a 130-year-old tortoise can save a life, couldn’t we?