I came so close to the ignominy of being killed by a giraffe

You will have smirked. Shame on you, but you will. Yet reluctantly, and out of respect for the recently deceased, I intend to tread lightly over the story of the Australian pet collector killed earlier this week by her own overamorous camel.

I shall note, with a restrained interest, the use of the word ‘humped’ in several tabloid headlines. I may, coyly, draw your attention to the victim’s reported ‘love of exotic animals’. There, however, I shall rest. I am no ghoul.

Instead, I am going to talk about a different sort of camel. G. camelopardis, to be precise, the South African giraffe. To be even more precise, I am going to talk about a particular South African giraffe. A giraffe that liked to spend its days, apparently, hiding behind a very big bush in the Kgalagadi National Park, just to the south of the Botswana border. For a very short time the paths of this giraffe and I quite literally crossed.