A baby giraffe was in a tree looking down headfirst with its leash wrapped around a branch. I coaxed it down and led it across the dirt road, stopping cars for it. It was a foreign type of giraffe, skinny with a neck like a snake; she crossed the road, slithering like a snake with her legs flat out to the side. There was space in a pen of pigs across the street with leaves to eat where I squeezed her in. An organization was getting animals out of trees and ready to be released into the wild, which was further up the dirt road.