Cheetah – Wildlife at Heart

Introductions

Hi! I’m Lambo, a male cheetah. Many people know that cheetahs are fleet of foot, but we are so much more than our superior speed. For example, we grow up in close-knit sibling groups and stay together for a period while we learn to be independent. In fact, as an adult, the vast majority of my time is spent in the company of my brothers. In rare cases, we may also bond with humans and have introduced our families to them and joined them for slumber parties. (Although, please remember that we are wild animals that do not make good pets for you!)

If you’d like to buckle in, I’d love to run you through what it means to be a cheetah.

Fastest Facts

Where We Live

Most of us live in the savannas and woodlands of southern Africa (South Africa, Namibia, and Botswana) and East Africa (Kenya and Tanzania) while a small group of us call the central deserts of Iran home.

IUCN Status

We are classified as vulnerable, primarily due to:

Habitat loss and fragmentation
Human-wildlife conflict
Poaching
Trapping for the illegal pet trade
Low genetic diversity (caused 10,000 years ago)
Climate change

celebrity cheetah

Sarah the Cheetah holds the record as the world’s fastest land mammal, running the 100-meter dash in a blazing 5.95 seconds. (By comparison, Usain Bolt’s record is a pokey 9.58 seconds.) She lived a long cheetah life of fifteen years at her home in the Cincinnati Zoo & Botanical Gardens and was one of the first cheetahs to grow up with a companion puppy. Check out Sarah’s racing skills or her Wikipedia page.

International Cheetah Day

is December 4th!

Fun Fact

Our lives are driven by scoping out meals and avoiding larger predators like lions, hyenas, and leopards. Not only do we avoid being in close physical contact with our bigger competitors, but we also limit movement during their peak periods of activity. While they primarily roam our world at night, we are far more active in the daytime. We’re still nervous nellies, though, and spend 20% of our time scanning the horizon for signs of danger.

Resolving The Identity Crisis

People often confuse us with leopards, but you can tell us apart from our markings. That’s a cheetah on the top, below. We cheetahs have solid, round black spots as well as black “tear marks” running from the corner of our eyes to the sides of our mouth. Leopards, on the bottom, below, are not nearly so striking with their circular spots with darker outlines and lighter centers called rosettes.

Cheetah Social Structure

Click here to watch a video on the social structure of cheetahs.

The Cheetah Girls

While we are close to our siblings growing up, female cheetahs raise their cubs as solitary adults. If they encounter another adult female, the two engage in a staring contest until one of them eventually walks away.

Female home ranges average 525 square miles (850 square kilometers), which assures that they can always remain close to their favorite prey. These ranges overlap with other females that often include mothers and sisters. They also overlap with males that are not related.

The Cheetah Guys

We males have a more complex social structure than the ladies. While some of us are also solitary as adults, about two-thirds of us live in stable coalitions. Mostly these groups feature two brothers but one in five of us is lucky enough to be part of a three-brother crew. There is strength in numbers in our world and living in these small groups allows us better dining opportunities. It’s so key that sometimes unrelated male cheetahs will partner up as well.

As cubs and newly independent adults, we guys roam to new locations every few days — just like the ladies do. Some of us spend our entire lives like this, floating in overlapping home ranges that run from 480 – 1,000 square miles (777 – 1595 square kilometers). Others (either solitaires or coalitions) manage to claim territories when they get a little older. This typically involves wresting the area away from someone else, which could involve a fight to the death. Being in a coalition is helpful here too (although not required) because the larger group always wins the turf war. The size of our home range depends on where we live and prey density. In Tanzania, the size is 30 square miles (48 square kilometers) while in Namibia, it’s 230 square miles (370 square kilometers). And we defend it with our lives.

Growing Up Cheetah

In The Beginning

After carving out a lair in the long, dense grass, Mom gave birth to five of us: my sisters, Mercedes and Porsche, my brothers, Aston and Martin, and me, Lambo. We were blind and weighed but 10 ounces (280 grams) that day.

Our first two weeks were spent in the same den. Mom nursed us in the early morning before she’d depart to hunt down a meal for herself. She’d return once the coast was clear to keep our presence a secret from the big, scary predators out there. When she got back, she would groom us while purring quietly to help us feel warm and secure.

By the end of our tenure at the lair, we had all opened our eyes and were toddling after Mom when she was nearby. We’d also grown a mantle of silver-gray fur on our heads, neck and back – a uniquely cheetah trait. The timing was auspicious because we moved to our next home right after that. Mom carried each of us to our new lair and relocated us every five days after that. By the time we were a month old, Mom finally let us scramble behind her when moving to a new home.

The First Dinner Bell

When we reached our two-month mark, we got to follow Mom on her daily travels rather than staying in a den. We spent a lot of our time resting. At night we’d sleep in an open grassy area until dawn, and at midday we’d lie in the shade for hours until things cooled off. Mom watched our surroundings very closely during these periods of inactivity. After all, you can’t be too careful – especially when you have precious cargo like the five of us on board.

In addition to sleeping, we moved locations regularly. And every day, we were treated to seeing Mom in full-on hunting mode. First, she’d stalk her prey. Normally when Mom started creeping up on dinner, we’d all wait very patiently. But sometimes . . . well, we were less than helpful. Sometimes Porsche and I would kick off a game of chase, and the others would quickly join us. Other times one of us (Aston!) would just sit up and blow our cover. Either way, we’d end up giving away Mom’s position and she’d have to find a new dinner target. Sorry, Mom!

In moments when we were better behaved, Mom would sneak up to a herd of gazelle then suddenly she’d take off like a bolt of lightning. We cubs would often wander ahead of Mom, but we’d quickly scamper out of the way when she launched into a chase. After Mom caught dinner, she’d drag it over to us.

The first time she did, all five of us took a sniff and bolted away in fear! But after a few days, we were able to sit next to the body without flinching. Crisis averted! Within a week, it started looking like a meal to us. Mom would open things up and wait for us to eat. Just like during our rest periods, Mom was always super vigilant during mealtime, watching everything that moved. One time, a zebra got too close, and Mom smacked it and chased it away. Back off, Stripey!

Games of Chase

We spent a lot of time playing during our childhood. We started out with simple games of chase, and graduated to crouching and stalking each other. Next, we began to chase birds. We never actually caught one through; we’d always pull up short just before reaching them.

When we were three months old, play got a little more interesting. Mom would disable a small gazelle and bring it to us to chase. We were all hopeless at catching the darn thing and after a few minutes of watching us bumbling around, Mom would step in and take care of it.

About a month after we started playing with live animals, we had all lost our silver-gray mantles. Mom also cut off the milk bar. I guess it was time since we were all eating more meat than nursing by then. She also started eating with us rather than waiting for us to finish before digging in herself.

Learning Vital Skills

By the time we were six months old, Mom was releasing our dinner about every third night to let us practice our hunting skills. To be honest, Porsche and Mercedes were much better at it than me, Aston and Martin. We boys mostly just trailed behind and counted on Mom to bring dinner to the table. But even the girls tended to start their chases too early most of the time, so the gazelles didn’t have much to worry about. Thank goodness we had Mom to rely on.

As we continued to grow, we learned from Mom how to detect danger. As we picked up this vital skill, at least one of us kept watch of our surroundings while we ate or rested at midday.

A Cheetah Never Changes Its Spots – or Calls, Part 1

We cheetahs are rather vocal. Most commonly, we chirp at each other. Moms and cubs make this sound with each other like when we’d greet Mom as she came home to us. As we get older, it also serves as our distress call. Each cheetah’s chirp is unique, and we recognize each other’s call.

The Odds Were Ever in Our Favor

My siblings and I were very lucky to have been born in Namibia, the cheetah capital of the world. In other locations, nearly three-quarters of cheetah cubs die in their first two months – primarily due to lion attacks. Odds are generally not in our favor for longevity as only 5% of cheetah cubs survive to adulthood. But there are far fewer lions and spotted hyenas here. They live in the heart of park land while we reside on the far fringes of these reserves.

Independence Day

Life continued with us operating as an efficient family unit until Mom walked away. She had taught us everything we needed to know about being a cheetah and at eighteen months old, it was time for the five of us to fend for ourselves. We remained in Mom’s range and stuck close together. If one of us moved, the rest followed. There was one time when Porsche ran after a gazelle, and we lost her for a while. We were frantic as we called for her but managed to find her quickly.

While we were together as a sibling group, we boys took meal prep more seriously. No more relying on the sisters to do the dirty work. Hunting as a group with my siblings increased the odds of us getting a meal and we were successful nearly two-thirds of the time. We all drew courage from each other as we learned to be independent young adults.

Within six months of being on our own, we had all mastered the art of getting dinner. It was about that time that Mercedes and Porsche departed together. They remained a pair for a few weeks before going their separate ways. They both stayed on a large portion of Mom’s home range and pretty much shared their new territory, albeit living separately. We three boys stayed on Mom’s home range for another year and then it was time to move on.

Adulting, Cheetah Style

Turf War

After we left our natal range, we moved every few days for the next few years, eventually relocating 125 miles (200 kilometers) away. As we traveled, my brothers and I were together all the time. Harmony mostly reigned between us, and we shared food pretty much equally. We also took turns suggesting our next activity though most often, I kicked off our grooming sessions, Marty (who opted for more casual naming conventions as an adult) led the way on our travels, and Aston ran point on our hunting expeditions.

We have always been very careful not to lose contact with one another. Whenever Marty walks off, usually Aston and I follow him. If we don’t, Marty will yip at us. If that fails to spur us to action, Marty comes back to groom us both before heading off again. Then it’s definitely time to follow him. On those rare occasions when we lose track of each other, like when one of us is pursuing a lady cheetah, we call continuously until we find each other again.

Eventually, when we were six years old, we found a territory that was held by two older cheetah brothers. It was a quick fight – they gave up once they realized there were more of us and that we were younger and stronger. Now, we regularly patrol our new boundaries. We don’t go looking for trouble, but if any other males show their faces on our turf, we are ready to defend our home.

A Cheetah Never Changes Its Spots – Or Calls, Part 2

In addition to chirping, we yip to summon to our family members and churr when we’re trying to find a partner of the opposite gender or when a mom is encouraging her cubs. And like housecats, we purr when we’re content, such as after a good meal. One sound we can’t produce is a roar.

The Mating Game

Once we held our own territory, we began to take greater notice of the lady cheetahs. When we came upon one, we’d approach cautiously and surround her. If she tried to leave, one of us would slap her down. It may sound rude to you, but to be fair, if we came too close for her comfort, she slapped us too. These conflicts ended when we guys lost interest. Before we allowed her to depart, though, one of us would sniff where she had been sitting to determine her readiness for our companionship.

My brothers and I share access to our lady friends relatively equally. If a lady is ready for us, one of us will chase her. It’s the only time we don’t wait for each other. When it’s my turn, I stay with my lady for two to three days before heading back to find Marty and Aston. Thankfully, it is much easier to locate my brothers now that we have our own territory.

The Lady’s Point of View

Mercedes here. Before my brother moves on too quickly, I thought you’d want to know more about the lady cheetah’s experience. We first start noticing the boys when we’re about 2.5 years old. When I’m ready for their companionship, I spend time with a series of boyfriends. Three months later, I welcome a set of cubs that I raise as a single parent.

A Typical Day For Me as an Adult

In the Morning, When I Rise

My brothers and I rise at dawn. We stroll to a nearby large rock and take turns sniffing and scent marking it. Next, we move to an acacia tree and give it a similar treatment.

Once we’ve made our mark on the world, it’s time to groom each other’s faces, ears, and neck. Next, we half-heartedly stalk a gazelle, but it notices us right away and issues a warning call. We relinquish our hunt and walk to a favored acacia tree to mark it instead.

We’re on the move for the next half hour until we come upon a termite mound. I clamber on top of it to survey our kingdom, while Aston and Marty wait below. We cheetahs have exceptional eyesight and I can see nearly three miles (five kilometers). There is no prey in sight. Nor are there any predators. After I’m sure I have an accurate lay of the land, I hop down and we’re on our way again.
While Marty usually guides our travels, today I’m leading the way. This morning, I take us to a nearby riverbed. We only need to drink every three or four days, but today it’s time. After we quench our thirst, it’s time to rest. We find an acacia tree surrounded by tall grasses and plop down together. We’re often touching and are always within one yard (one meter) of each other for our midday rest. Even when the sun shifts, I’d rather stay next to my brothers than relocate to a patch of shade.

Once a Cheetah, Always a Cheetah – Scents and Sensibilities

We cheetahs are really into scent-marking, and territory holders are the most active in this sport. At least once an hour, when we come upon a prominent tree (also referred to as “play trees”), large rock, or other landmark, we’ll spend up to a minute smelling it to learn what we can about who has been there recently. After that, we leave our own mark, urinating while scratching the ground with our hind feet. We have favored spots to mark that we visit regularly over the course of a month.

Afternoon Delight

After a glorious midday rest, the three of us get up around 4:00 P.M. This time, Marty is back in the lead. He climbs the acacia tree to scan the savanna for a meal and spots a herd of wildebeest. While we like smaller antelopes the best, we opt for a larger meal that will feed all of us. And since we are a trio, we are more than capable of taking it down.

We move closer to the herd, taking cover in the tall grasses. Aston takes over to lead the hunt and is laser-focused on one wildebeest in particular who will be our target. He and I fan out to herd the animal towards Marty. And once we’re in position, the chase is on! As it runs past Marty, he trips the wildebeest. It falls to the ground, and he quickly dispatches it. It’s dinner time!

Next, we drag our dinner to the nearest shade tree. Aston and I are exhausted after our run, so we can do nothing but sit and pant for the next thirty minutes. Marty starts eating right away, though, often pausing to look around to ensure no one else is lurking about that might steal our dinner. Once we’ve recovered, Aston and I join him in our meal. We eat quickly and nervously but are tidy eaters. When we’re done, the wildebeest’s skeleton is still intact.

Catch Me If You Can

We cheetahs are built for speed. We have long legs and a supple spine that produce a 23-foot (7-meter) stride, semi-retractable claws that serve as cleats, and a long tail that works as a rudder. In addition, our hearts, lungs, and nasal passages are all enlarged to further enhance our athletic abilities. In two seconds, we can reach a speed of 46 miles per hour (75 kilometers per hour), with a top speed of 70 miles per hour (113 kilometers per hour). Chases typically last less than 30 seconds as we can only maintain this speed for 300 yards (300 meters).

Nighttime is the Right Time . . . for Sleeping

After our meal, Aston, Marty, and I patrol our territory and continue our scent marking quest. As dusk arrives, we find a new acacia tree and curl up next to each other to rest for the night.

How To Help Us

If you’re interested in helping us cheetahs, I have a few suggestions. We’ve lost 90% of our historical range, so one of the most powerful ways to help is by supporting conservation groups that are working to protect our habitats or connect them with wildlife corridors. These connections allow us to roam, hunt, and find mates more safely.

Human-cheetah conflict, poaching, and the illegal pet trade are also major threats. You can support organizations that work with local communities to promote coexistence, including training and supporting farmers in non-lethal predator deterrence.

And don’t forget—climate change is making life harder for all of us. By reducing your carbon footprint, you help protect the delicate ecosystems we depend on. Even just sharing our story can make a difference.

Returning the Favor

Since you’re considering helping us, I’d like to return the favor. We cheetahs use short bursts of intense energy to catch our dinner and can swiftly change direction when the situation calls for it. There’s a lesson there: stay flexible, trust your instincts, and don’t be afraid to pivot when things shift. Our focus is laser-sharp—we lock onto a single target and give it our all. You can do the same. Maximize your productivity by setting clear goals, working with purpose, and then—just like us—taking time to rest and recharge. And if that fails, a good stretch in the sun never hurts.

For More Information

For more information on cheetahs, you can read Cheetahs of the Serengeti Plains by T.M. Caro or check out the Cheetah Conservation Fund website. If you’d like to see cheetahs in person, you can visit them at many zoos, including the San Diego Zoo Safari Park, the Smithsonian’s National Zoo, or the Cincinnati Zoo and Botanical Gardens. If virtual observing is more your style, you can also try this cheetah webcam.

Special thanks to Linda Castaneda, Lead Trainer of the Cincinnati Zoo & Botanical Garden’s Cat Ambassador Program for serving as an expert advisor on cheetahs. Additional thanks go to Lisa Hubbard for generously sharing her cheetah photos for the site.

Sometimes Cheetahs Profit

We only eat freshly killed game, which we hunt every two to five days. We are successful about half the time, although that rises to a 70% success rate with Thomson’s gazelles. If vultures spot our dinner and begin to circle, they will alert larger predators to our kill. This happens about once every ten meals and when it does, we eat until the predator is within ten yards (ten meters) and then bolt away to safety.