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.