As the open plains of our northern stretches slowly became visible over the crest of a hill there was movement that caught our eye. All we could see at first was the characteristic slick black mane of Solo as he marched over the grass expanse. We got closer and switched off the Land Rover. What followed next can only be considered a sensory overload.
He stopped pacing and lifted his head, ears pricked forward as if he was listening to things unheard by us, like there was another whole level of communication we were missing out on. Read the full article →
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