How I became an elephants mother.

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The baby was in shock and badly injured. I saw the calf I was so sad. The little elephant was so tiny. His skin was sun burned injuries all over his weak body. He couldn’t stand properly, his legs were so weak. We have to hold him or else he will collapse. His body was covered with deep cuts and wounds. Both side of the hip the cut he had cuts deep to the bone. Filled with puss these wounds smelt terrible. The Karen tribesman told me that the mother died not far from the village and they just check the elephant every day. The time day see the dead body and thought the baby stillborn, so they left the limp body in the jungle.

The next night the villagers heard strange noises coming from the mountain and they wondered what it was. Some said it was the unsettled spirit of a ghost elephant. They heard this strange noise, over and over for three days and three nights. No body wanted to come out in the village at night. A group of young village boys decided to search for the source of this noise.

They went out in the late afternoon and could not believe what they found. In front of them was a tiny baby elephant wedged between two trees. He was very weak and could not stand up. They tried to left the baby up, but he was stuck fast between the trees. The struggle to free himself had resulted in scratches and cuts in the body so deep that he would scream when his tender skin was scuffed by the scraping branches. Every time the boys tried to move him he would screech in agony. They went back to village and brought back a wood saw to cut the trees and free him. When they had managed this the baby elephant collapsed to the ground. His little trunk was down, his eyes drooped, and mouth were numb from the loss of so much blood. The village boys carried water from the river, and he started to greedily drink from the bamboo pipe container.

I fixed a mattress and ran to buy milk formula and began preparing for the worst . The little boy was so skinny and very bad injured. His wound were infected and smelled very bad, puss seething from them constantly. He couldn't stand normally. I thought he would not survive. He was so thirsty and drank warm milk from us, six liters non stop. The first night with us the baby elephant was mistrustful of those around him. He walked around sniffing the room. He would stand up and lean against the wall for support. He was trying – fighting for strength. I realized that as the natural behaviour of a baby elephant this age. I walked straight to the baby to touch and hold him. I followed him when he turned away then, finally, he accepted me and came over to ask for more milk. He put his head against my knee and sleep there the whole night.

Next morning he had diarrhea and his wounds were getting worse. I had to give less milk and more of a rice milk compound to heal his stomach. I started to clean his cuts and used medicine to keep flies and insects away. He cried for milk every half hour, after he drank I kneaded his chest and belly to make him belch.

The weather in December was very cold so I made a fire by his new pen to keep him  warm. The milk also had to be warmed and given at the right temperature. He became more trusting and familiar with his new surroundings and he was happy to lie down and sleep on the mattress. I now had the chance to sit down myself and really rest for the first time in two days.

Look after this orphan kept me busy the whole day. Cleaning wounds applying medicine, making milk, boiling water changing the mattress, clean his pen, changing the straw were constant jobs that needed to be done. When he sleeps I stay beside him and keep the flies from his wounds. They are still open and I fear that these bothersome insects would infest them with eggs. Some times the mattress will stick to his wounds and he will panic and try to run around. I pull the mattress from him. He starts to follow me everywhere. After drinking milk he will lie down on my knee but sleep does not come easy. He loves to play, using his trunk to pull at my arm, and he tries to suck at my clothes. He sleep with his dainty little trunk curled around my neck. He snores. Some times he talks in his sleep. He is easily panicked by dog barks, cocks crowing or any thing else that moves around. I stay close to him at all times and find that a hug pacifies him and puts him at ease

A whole month I have to stay with the baby elephant in his pen. The more time I spend with him I feel that I can help him survive. Most people who first see him doubt that he survive, but I have promised myself I will coax him to health. I firmly believe that my love will heal him.

I gave the name for him Ging Mai or the ‘little tree’. I believe the tree had an angle guardian who held him there. He was close to a cliff and, had the trees not been there, it is likely that he would have tumbled down the ravine and died from his injuries..

The month went past so quickly, he is healing and getting better, his wounds are closing. His skins has peeled many times from sunburn . He can have a bath and I put coconut oil on him after bath . He has put on weight, but I have lost 5 kilo of my own. Finally my body couldn't cope and I fall into a deep sleep one night. I am so tired and fall asleep. I was awakened by a gentle massage from little feet I open my eyes and see what he is doing. What will he

do next if I don't wake up? The baby tried hard to push me to stand up . He use his trunk to touch my nose, checking I am still alive. Impatience gets the better of him and he starts to trumpet and kicking me to wake up. I stand up and hug him. He shrinks his trunk and shake the head, seeming so happy. Suddenly he opens his mouth and gives me big sloppy kisses.

After six weeks I take him out of his pen. His first time outside the pen and he hesitate to walk. He used the trunk to touch, smell and check every single thing he saw. He walks slowly, his head rubbing against my leg all the time. He follows my foot steps. A new world. The follow day I teach him how to used the trunk to pick up the food and throw dust to cover his small body. To teach this little boy takes a long time. The immediate concern is to keep him well fed. I carry milk bottles ready for when hunger strikes. He is a quick learner and is keen to copy me. It is such a wonderful privilege to be able so share his joy.

As much as I love bringing him up I can not do it alone so I apply for volunteers to come and help. Most of them apply through our website and many have seen parts of my project on TV documentaries. We have great success with our volunteers. From around the world I find caring and committed helpers. I gave the job and train them in the art of elephant rearing. I need sleep and have set a tent in front of the baby pen. Volunteers take turns to stay with the baby.

The first night I spend outside the pen I hear some thing moving around my tent. I unzip the flaps and can see my little boy wandering and kissing my tent. He has managed to escape from his pen as the volunteer sleep. A new stronger door is needed and this will be a morning priority. I move my tent far from the pen and some volunteers keep him in their tent. They take him out to exercise early in the morning. From the sanctuary of my own shelter I have heard the volunteer call out " Oh no !!!!" . Before I can get out to see what has happened Ging Mai runs into my tent and lies down beside me and begins rolling around. I have to jump out before the tent fall a pieces .

Today my lovely little boy is over five months old. He needs more food and nutrition. The cost of the milk compound is expensive. The nature of infant elephants diet is that the first thing they eat is their mother 's dung. This helps digestion. I wonder how can I get this dung for my little baby. If I can’t find anything suitable I could be risking the youngsters life. I go back to the mountain following the footsteps of the mother elephant and learn how to make the fake dung

I began to wonder; If love could heal the lovely creature – couldn’t love heal the world?

part 1