Chasing the Monkeys

Arriving at the cottage at the Magalies River in North West Province in the latter half of last month was quite a shock to me, and I think to Piccolo as well. We both had so many memories of little old Skippie. Her ‘smells’ and presence were still with us and I felt it very strongly. Piccolo seemed at a total loss and I thought, almost in a depression. She slept the whole day and didn’t seem interested in anything.  I didn’t know what to do with my doggie or how to entertain her, as suddenly there were no long beaches on which we could walk, or run.

But, then something magic happened: the vervet monkeys came to visit in the trees around the house and Piccolo started chasing them; from there onwards she had a ball! It took a few days and then this was the game of choice…chasing the monkeys.

Piccolo on the deck, looking for the monkeys in the trees

Poor old Piccolo is half blind and deaf and half the time she misses spotting the monkeys when they are right above her, but she loves the game and somehow I think the monkeys understand that she is harmless. They started playing with her in the sense of hanging low from the branches and troops would tease her for hours on end. But they are free and live the life of nomads. They go where there is food and fortunately at this time of the year the white stinkwood trees around the cottage have many juicy berries that they love, but they have a routine of moving through the area in the day.  

Monkey in the tree, watching us

 This poses a problem as Piccolo waits impatiently for them to return…sometimes the whole day. She would come to call me with a pleading look in her eyes, as if to say, “Find the monkeys for me” and that was how the game started…

Monkey sitting at the bird feeding tray, eating pieces of apple

I would run out of the house, look up at the trees and clap my hands, calling “Monkeys, monkeys where are you. Piccolo wants to play!” Whether she ever hears me I don’t know, but she soon got into the habit of looking up and when the leaves on the trees move, she believes there are monkeys. Many times there are and she can of course smell them as well. It has become such a game that I think they come to look for her in the day and they tease her. We even found lately that some days they sleep in the trees above the roof, because early morning they would wake us by dropping down onto the roof, making quite a racket. Of course, that means that Piccolo starts ‘chasing’ monkeys from 6 o’clock in the morning. She no longer sleeps in the day.

Sleeping by the fireplace at the lapa after a heavy day of chasing monkeys

But on the odd day they haven’t come and I eventually did the unspeakable and started to put out little bits of fruit for them (I know Garry is going to have a problem when we leave) but I believe it is unavoidable as, ‘anything for my Piccolo.’

We have watched her with delight, but some days we are concerned about her as she doesn’t stop running the whole day and in between finding the monkeys she sometimes chases one of the Emus that belong to the neighbor, but for some reason they like to come to our field of grass. The Emu has a mate, but it was born with deformed legs and can’t really run. I am proud of my Piccolo as she never chases the weak one, but in return I also believe that the monkeys are kind to her as they must surely sense that she is an old girl (17 years). In her younger days chasing birds were a no-no, but she is no match for the Emu and it keeps her busy. What makes me happy is that she is content. The only problem is that I have taken the place of Skippie and have become her companion as some days it is all I do the whole day, namely calling the monkeys; I have lately even started to play my own game with them.  About that you can make up your own mind.

Piccolo, in her younger years, at the river

Soon however, our time will be up here, and once again we will walk the beaches of Cape Town, but before then she surely needs a bath as at the moment she is what we call, ‘a mucky pup,’ albeit a happy one.