In the past when there were more of us and we were thriving. We had to hide from various animals such as snow leopards and jackals often. Unfortunately there are now less than 100 of us, and our numbers continue to decline. What's even sadder is that it's not our poor adaptation ability or terrible hiding techniques that kill us, but rather metal toxins that seep into the soil and eventually the bamboo that we depend on. Just a few days ago, my mother died while we were eating, and I had to move her body to avoid the wretched stench.

That's why I was so surprised when a snow leopard emerged from the shadows while I was eating bamboo yesterday. This had only happened once before in my eight years of living, but it turned out to be a false alarm that had wasted over an hour of my day that could have been spent eating, but not this time. This time there was actually a snow leopard and it was coming in my direction. My heart was pounding. I had always been very careful when choosing my spot to eat, but today I had forgotten to check the surrounding area for predators and there were no good trees to climb, so I was really starting to panic. I had immediately thought of running, but I realized that the snow leopard would catch me before I could even say "Bamboo." Instead, I found a shaded patch of snow and curled up into a ball, hoping to only show my white areas. I stayed like that for an hour and a half, waiting for the snow leopard to leave. My beautiful fur patterns helped me blend into the surroundings, making me look like some snow and rocks. It must have worked because finally, the snow leopard left and I could go back to eating.

I was enjoying a peaceful munch on some delicious grass by the river when suddenly, I heard a sound that made me freeze. I prayed it was just the wind, but then I caught a whiff of jaguar scent, and my heart skipped a beat.  

Realizing that I had to act fast, I decided to do what I'm best at—swimming! As we all know, capybaras are champs in the water. So I dashed towards the river, with the jaguar hot on my tail, its growls getting louder and closer.  As I dove into the river, I could feel the jaguar's breath on my neck, and I knew I had to be quick. I swam as fast as I could, but the jaguar was a worthy opponent and was quickly closing in.

That's when I inhaled deeply and dove deeper and deeper into the water. My webbed feet propelled me deeper and deeper, and I stayed underwater as long as I could, my lungs begging for air. When I resurfaced, I peered out of the water, and to my relief, the jaguar was pacing on the riverbank, defeated. I waited, hidden in the water, until I was sure the coast was clear. Finally, I emerged from the river and dashed away into the underbrush, my heart racing. 

Phew! That was one epic escape. I'm so grateful for my swimming skills and the fact that I can hold my breath for a long time. I'm definitely going to brag about this adventure to all my Capybara friends!