Dog Bless You

     These things always seem to happen in the middle of the night. 

     This particular time, I was well asleep, as I normally am, when the dogs began kicking off. You well know the difference between a "There's a person" and "There's something damn interesting" bark. We've learnt this by now, as the dogs don't bark unless there's something.

    Pio, of course, races for the outside lights and his gun, but on listening, I realised it was indeed an "There's something damn interesting". Much to Pio's horror, I opened the gate to go check, torch in hand. Barefoot, as usual. 

    As I opened the door, there was a literal stampede. The dogs charged inside as if Hell Hounds were on their tail, which then made me slightly apprehensive. My first thought was "Snake", as by now, they seem to have learned (touch wood) to stay away from the slithering creatures. 

    I went out anyway, torch in hand, hearing a racket of some sort. There was fierce scratching and spitting coming from under old Beasty, my faithful old Toyota, and I bent to peek under it. 

     I think I moved just as fast as the dogs had at that point. This little polecat, about the size of Bear's head, had the ability to put every dog on the run. He was kicking up dirt and spitting like a demon under the bakkie. 

    Sadly, seeing the black and white, my uneducated brain told me it was a skunk, which caused plenty of hilarity on Facebook when all my friends pointed out to me that we do not have skunks in Namibia. I've now learnt that we indeed do not have skunks here, and that it was a polecat. 

    Nevertheless, I ran. He was a scary little bugger. The dogs remained inside for the rest of the night, while the little monster no doubt made his way to safety during the course of the night. 

     Especially in the mornings, before I've had my third coffee. 

    Three times a week, I drive down the mountain at about six-thirty, to fetch the staff, and then on the way back, the dogs enjoy a morning run.

    But, I'm still asleep and in my pyjamas at this point. I try to keep an eye out for wayward animals that have ventured onto the plot, but in my fuzzy state, I rarely see anything.

     It was Friday morning, the 4th August 2017. Bear was unnaturally excited, but I put it down to the fact that he hadn't run the evening before as Pio and I had both been sick and so tired, we just hadn't been able to face a trip up the mountain.

    So, we got through our gate, and rather blearily, I opened the door for the dogs to get out. Bear, as always, was out first, and sped out at such a pace, that I knew there was trouble. I tried to close the door, but Jessie was as fast as he and was already out. I managed to close the door on poor Kita, and then had to apologise to her before putting my foot flat to see what the hell Bear was after. 

     Jessie was close on his heels. She's always stuck to him when running, and not followed any of the others, so he has taught her all the good things. Until today, that is. 

    Somehow, Bear had spotted a gemsbok far up the mountain - and I mean far. He was close to the top, minding his own business. My first thought was, "Oh, how beautiful," as we only have one gemsbok in the area, poor guy. 

    And then, much like a bucket of ice water, I realised that gemsbok do not run like kudu. They're fighters. I crapped myself and began screaming for Bear and JJ, to no avail. By the time they reached the gemsbok, I had realised the gun was necessary. 

    I left them charging the big gemsbok, and he in turn stood his ground and charged back with his lethal horns lowered, and put my foot down. That bakkie has never taken that road quicker, with the poor staff hanging on for dear life. 

    All I need to do these days is scream "GUN!" and Pio comes running. At this point, he was in his dressing gown, enjoying his first coffee in peace and quiet. But he came running. Luckily, the shotgun has been out and in the lounge. In his dressing gown, he raced back down the mountain, while Wilbard and I headed for the small igloo, from where we could see Bear still charging the gemsbok, then dodging out of his way with surprising agility when the big buck charged back. 

    Jessie, the idiot, was barking and bouncing around with very little idea of what was happening or the danger she was in, stupid muppet. We watched, holding our breaths, the dance between Husky, idiot mongrel, and gemsbok, before we heard the shot ring out, echoing through the valleys. 

    Luckily, Bear headed for home almost immediately, Jessie on his tail. The stunning gemsbok seemed quite proud of himself, and stayed right in his spot, swishing his tail. He'd won and was enjoying his spot on the mountain, and had no intention of leaving, for dog or the sound of a gun.

    Bear and Jessie lived in disgrace for the day. 

     

Jessie came to us through strange ways, as they all do. Carene and Ulrich flew in from Australia to get married on the 7th of December. It was hectic, wedding planning and getting everything organised, and of course, Coda-Doda had to play a part, and so walked down the aisle with us. It was so, so sweet. 

But, just before the wedding, they had popped down to Marienthal, and typically, picked up a little rat of a dog. They brought her back to Windhoek, and the little thing bonded to Ulrich. She absolutely adored him. 

After the wedding, they spent some time with us in Swakop, and during the day I would baby-sit little "Jakkals" as they had named her, working on her terrible fear and lack of confidence. The first time that she met my lot, she was so terrified, she peed herself. 

 She was seriously ugly, bless her little heart, and had the most awful tail I'd ever seen. I really tried to find her a good home, and posted on Facebook, and all of those things. In the meantime, Carene and Ulrich were trying to decide if they could take her back to Aus, and when they decided that they really wanted to, they began finding out about the process. 

Unfortunately, it didn't work out, and Jessie would have spent too much time in quarantine, when she was already a fragile little girl. So she stayed with me, as they did their rounds of Namibia after the honeymoon. 

She fitted in well, and slowly, the timidity faded - but only around us. For a good three months, she peed herself when people walked in or if she got a fright. She was so scared, that she never got a smack or disciplined at all (which was probably a bad thing!) 

Carene and Ulrich went back to Aus, and by that time, Pio and I had fallen in love with the little girl. Yes, I changed her name from Jakkals to Jessie J, as I she was so ugly she had to have a pretty name! And boy, did she grow into that name! 

She is a beautiful little girl now, with lots of attitude. She's learning to bark when the others do, and they have brought her out of her shell in a way I don't think a human could have. Although, she barks on her way back into the house to hide behind me, but at least she's getting there :) She runs with us, and has never disappeared, luckily following Bear and learning all the good habits from him. 

But then, the worst happened. We were en-route to Swakop for our wedding, with all the family, and the silly girl jumped out of the car window and broke her pelvis. We rushed her straight to the vet, where at first they said that that it looked okay. But by the next morning, she was in severe pain, and on x-ray, her pelvis was broken. 

It has taken months to come right and she'll probably struggle for the rest of her life, although now, she has amazing mobility and doesn't let it bother her. She runs and plays and only every now and then, when she gets up, do you see that something might be a little uncomfortable. 

It is gutting, and I worry about her daily, but she is a happy little thing and loves life! And we love her to bits and pieces. 

So, we'd always heard that there are loads of snakes here, but until a good year in, we hadn't seen any. Again, it was of course after dark, and we'd just gotten into bed when we heard Bear and Kita barking. Coda never barks at anything :) and Cady was staying away, wary.

So, it was that bark that said "Something is not right, but it's not human." We dashed outside, grabbing plakkies along the way. 

There was at that point a wall around a very small concrete path that skirted the igloos. It was built with the rocks that are here on the plot naturally, almost like s dry-stone wall, and less than a foot high. The sand was then level with it towards the rest of the garden, and you stepped down into that path.

So, Bear and Kita were telling us that there was something very wrong with this rock. We did suspect snake, or scorpion perhaps, but whatever it was, if the dogs aren't happy, then we listen. I stepped closer, chasing the dogs away, and just saw a curl of a body slipping out from beneath the rock, with very distinct black and white stripes. It was a Zebra snake. 

Zebra's here are very aggressive, and there is no anti-venom. Sometimes people survive, and sometimes they don't. I know that the flesh goes black as the venom eats it and it rots on you. It's a cytotoxic venom.  

I do know that the chances of a dog surviving are minimal, and the venom when they spit, will also blind a dog sometimes, if not treated correctly. So I was not happy. 

Anyway, so Pio dashed for the shotgun like his tail was on fire. Now, I won't shoot a snake outside of my yard, but a mamba or a zebra will be, due to their aggression and the safety of my babies. We've done a lot to prevent them getting into the yard, and so, this is actually the first and only zebra (touch wood) that we've had in the garden - or seen anyway. 

So, while Pio was dashing for his shotgun, I grabbed the broom and waited, keeping Bear and Kita away from it. It was under the rock, but moving. When he came back, he held the gun ready, and I pushed the top rock off of the little ledge. 

That zebra came up spitting, but luckily because of the ledge, he missed us and spat straight into it. He wasn't huge, probably less than a meter, but seriously made up for size with a fiery will to kill anything in his path. 

Sadly, Pio shot him. We only used rubber bullets, but they did the job, and poor zebby went to snake heaven. 

The following day, the lady that helps me in the house while I'm working, spotted it and freaked, even though it was no longer with us. As I was explaining to her what had happened, Cady walked by me and brushed my leg with her tail .... I jumped about a foot in the air. Me and the maid died laughing after that! 

It was only after this experience, that we learned of a local snake handler here that comes and relocates snakes to safer areas from where they aren't wanted. What I did also realise that this is their territory - we're living in the bush, and all that is really required, is to put them back out into the bush and hope that no harm comes of it. In an area like this, education on the habits of snakes is really crucial, and so I joined the local pages on Facebook. 

We have since had a few more experiences, but mostly non-lethal. 

Kita was spat in the eyes by what we would assume would be an anchietas cobra or a zebra. That was a mad rush to the vets on a Sunday morning at 7am, when she woke us up telling us that something was wrong. We never found the snake, and luckily, as I have saline on hand, we flushed her eyes as best we could while contacting the vet. She has suffered no permanent damage.

We also had a little zebra snake that sadly got stuck on the electric fence and didn't make it. 

The other day we had a little skaapsteker in the garden, sunning itself on a rock, and there it stayed. The dogs seem to know to leave them alone, and Cady especially, after the python incident. 

It's been ages since I used this blog, but a recent occurrence made me think it's perhaps a good idea to keep track of all the happenings on the plot, and hey, these mostly include my babies. So I want to try start logging all the funny things that happen to all of us, in our quest to save all animals on the planet. 

We've had ups and downs, good times and bad times, over the past few years. But this is one of the things that was really our first memory, or experience rather, on the plot. 

It was perhaps in the first month that we were here. And there was a hell of a lot of work to do around the place, as there still is. We also only had the three dogs and kitties at this stage. 

We were woken up by fierce barking, and of course, our first reaction was to think that someone was perhaps trying to break in. But, on listening, I realised that Bear didn't have his "person" bark on, he had his "yay, something to chase" bark going. I launched out the back door, onto the deck that was falling to pieces, with a piddly little torch, as we didn't own a decent one. 

I tried very hard to see between the slats in the deck, and spotted something black and white ... I then heard the rattling.

"It's a porcupine!" I shrieked to Pio, bolting back through the house to find my plakkies. I then charged around the outside of the house, to try prevent my precious boy from getting a face full of quills. I was in an utter panic, knowing very well how sore that would be for him. 

By the time I got there, he had followed it to near the kitchen steps. I chased him off, yelling at the top of my voice to get him away, while Pio watched from the deck. As Bear backed off, the porcupine stood and looked at me. 

They're surprisingly big, particularly with their quills up, and he was almost waist high on me. He didn't do much, just checked me out, then put his quills down, walked down the bank to the fence, and slipped through. Bear was interested, but thankfully, didn't try bite the poor thing on the bum. 

And, it would seem that Pio had forgotten to turn the fence back on after working on it earlier that day ...