We’ve eventually joined the masses and activated Netflix on our non-smart TV, all because we just had to watch the acclaimed My Octopus Teacher. What a wonderful documentary. Roger and I were both feeling rather nostalgic about our past diving excursions but especially the Comoros one. There we had a lady dive master who was, I think, from Austria. Her English was good but endearingly accented and we had regular giggles when she said: ‘we should find some “octopussies” on today’s dive’. We just loved seeing them and spending time observing them. They are so playful, curious, and engaging!
Dumi, a worker at Glutek where Roger works, complained about the rats that are decimating his little veggie patch at his home. He does not have the money to spend on poison (thankfully), so Roger gave him a rat trap which he’d bought from the Owl Rescue Centre a while ago. The very next day Dumi came to work with a rat in the trap. It was a huge, very aggressive Norwegian Sewer Rat. Roger gave Dumi a second trap and he reported that there was another rat caught that night.
So, on our way to Silver Creek the following weekend we stopped at Dumi’s house in Thabo Mbeki Village to collect the second trap and we delivered both occupied traps to the Owl Rescue Centre. Both the pickup and drop off points were en route for us. Outside the centre gate (visitors are not allowed in during daylight hours) we had a very interesting conversation with the folk that run the centre. The rats are kept in quarantine for two weeks before they are euthanised using the Cervical Severance method, deemed to be most ‘humane’ according to the Animal Rights Organisation. The dead rats are then chopped up and fed to the owls. Prey items are not allowed to be live, and no indigenous animals are allowed to be used, again Animal Rights Organisation rules.
Mother’s Day was a pleasant, quiet day at Eugene and Marlene’s plot where they spoilt me with a beautiful anthurium pot plant and a very special meal.
During one of my weekly crochet get-togethers, we had a discussion around the topic of keeping wild animals as pets, triggered by an incident about a pet mongoose bite that made the news that week. The discussion brought back memories of my own experience during the years on the plot.
Like most people, my first husband always looked on longingly when he saw someone with a pet monkey on his shoulder; it just seemed so cool and adorable. Then an opportunity presented itself. Purely by chance we met people who had a ‘pet’ vervet monkey that they were keen to get rid of. They apparently found her stunned, and abandoned, after she was shocked by a high voltage electrical connection. I am totally opposed to owning wild animals of any description; always was and always will be. But I was overruled, and before I knew it we were on our way home with a newly adopted ‘family member’ named Blapsie.
All was not what it seemed though, as so often is the case. Blapsie immediately latched on to Louis and became completely possessive and protective. He was hers and she would not tolerate anyone else near him. When she was let out of her enclosure during the day for some exercise and cuddling, only Louis was allowed to come near her. Anyone else was immediately faced with an aggressive posture and she had to be reined in tightly to prevent her attacking whoever dared come too close. It became more and more of an issue, to the point where the boys and I would be confined to the house while she was outside. My resentment was intense.
One day, probably about two months after Louis got her, I heard a huge commotion outside. Looking through the window, I saw Eugene screaming and struggling to get the animal off him. He obviously did not realise that she was on the loose when he went outside. She had jumped onto him from behind and unceremoniously started attacking. I was alarmed, as any mother would be. Then I snapped. I ran to the safe and grabbed the first firearm I lay my hands on (I was a good shot in those days). In the meantime, Louis had come to the rescue. He was holding Blapsie against his chest, calming her, when I reached them.
“Put that animal down. Right now. I’m gatvol!” I shouted, pointing the firearm straight at the animal against his chest.
“Slowly now Letitia” Louis said, his eyes wide.
“Don’t ‘slowly’ me. If you don’t let it go I’ll shoot it in your arms. Your choice!”
“Calm down, you’re being irrational.”
“Irrational?!” I screamed, looking at Eugene. His arm was badly scratched and bleeding. He was about nine years old at the time.
Only after we reached an agreement that Louis would find a new home for the animal I lower the gun, reluctantly.
Thankfully, upon my insistence, her canines were extracted soon after she came to us so her bites were vicious and damaging but it could have been a lot worse. Eugene bears the scars to this day.
A day or so later, while my sister and her family were visiting, the same thing happened to my niece Ilse. That was the last straw. Blapsie was put down.
Back to now. When I realised that my Spice Market crochet project’s colours and design matched the rug in our bedroom (I don’t know why I only realised this now!), I decided to have it framed as a wall hanging.
The weekend of the 21st / 22nd of May was Kevin’s bachelor’s party and Lucy’s Bridal Shower in Joburg. For Kevin, it was very special because most of his school friends are still in Johannesburg, and for Lucy and her mom Colleen, it was an occasion to meet the entire extended family. Both events were most enjoyable and fun.
FLTR: Bruce, Llewellyn, Gordon, Roger, Kevin
President Cyril Ramaphosa announced on Sunday evening that the country will move to adjusted Lockdown Level 2 from Monday 31st of May 2021. This will mean that Kevin & Lucy will have to make some adjustments to their wedding guest list. I have no words…