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Anvar Alikhan

It’s a scene that has become the highlight of virtually every African wildlife documentary you see: Footage of a cheetah chasing an antelope at 75 mph through the savannah, effortlessly closing in on it, and, with one last, slow-motion leap, bringing the poor creature to a gory technicolor end.

Today, ironically, it is the cheetah itself that is nearing extinction. And that is why Glenn Eriksen has set up a cheetah breeding farm outside the town of Oudtshooorn, in South Africa. Visiting the farm with some friends, I met Nadia, a little blonde, 16-year old, who spends her holidays working there as a farmhand.

She obviously loved her cheetahs with a passion. "They’re like big, overgrown pussycats," she told us enthusiastically, "Very gentle, very friendly, very tame. And they just love human beings."

"For breakfast, lunch or dinner?" I muttered, but Nadia politely pretended she hadn’t heard me.

"You see, they’ve been brought up by human beings since birth on this farm. So they actually think they’re the same species as us. Isn’t that sweet? Come, why don’t you come and cuddle my cheetahs?” Some idiot in our group must have said yes, because the next thing I knew was that we were being ushered into the large fenced perimeter where the cheetahs are bred. It was surrounded by a 15 ft high wire-mesh fence, and as we entered, the huge gate swung shut behind us.

Inside the perimeter, twenty yards from us, half a dozen cheetahs were lolling arrogantly in the sun. They slowly turned their gaze on us as we approached. I carefully made sure that I was right at the back of the group, keeping a couple of large meaty friends directly between myself and the cheetahs. But then, as I glanced up at the accacia trees around us, I noticed another half dozen cheetahs perched in the branches, looking down at me with lazy curiosity.

Reaching the cheetahs, Nadia put her arms around one of them, and nuzzled its nose with her own, talking to it in baby-talk. "Come and play with them," she invited us, "See, they really are like pussycats. And they love to be tickled. Especially under their chins."

Finally, with great reluctance, I allowed myself to gingerly pat one of the cheetahs. It purred. I hesitantly tickled it between the eyes. It purred louder, and rolled over onto its back. Very like a pussycat, actually.

"Put your hand into his mouth," Nadia suggested to me, "And feel its tongue. What does it feel like?" Growing bolder by the minute, I put my hand into the cheetah’s mouth, reaching past the large, yellow teeth. The tongue, I discovered with a shock, felt as rough as sandpaper. The cheetah developed a sudden interest in my fingers, and licked them lovingly - and painfully - with its large, wet sandpaper tongue.

"I presume you keep them on a vegetarian diet here," I remarked to Nadia.

Sketches by Dominic Xavier.

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