The small zinc dam on our property, calm, serene and a haven for birds, frogs and other diverse creatures. Until this morning that is...
I was chilling in bed, had just finished a deep meditation, had spoken to my darling wife and was finishing off my tea when the mobile buzzed into life. Caller ID - Johannes, our gardener.
Strange, I thought. It's well after 8 - he should be here.
"Yes, Johannes," I said. "What's happening?"
"Hello, sir," he replied, ever polite. "I've got the small bog here..."
"The what?" I said, bamboozled. "I don't understand..."
"The small bog, sir," he patiently repeated.
"I don't understand what you're saying," I responded. "Are you here?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'll find you."
And so saying I leapt out of bed, hauled on my takkies and shorts, opened blinds, switched off lights and discovered that the front door had been open all night. Oh well...
That must be a sign, I thought. Let me head in that direction.
So I trudged off through the front garden, noticing that the gate to the dam path was open.
He must be close by.
And then I heard it. A strange noise that didn't belong in the dam. A plaintive bleating accompanied by erratic splashing.
Shit! The little duiker was in the dam, trapped in the shade cloth netting I'd installed there to shelter the fish.
The small bog... The small BOK. Oh shit!
"Johannes!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. The chop had gone to find me but lickety spit he arrived back at a gallop. By the time he'd reached the pump enclosure, I was stripped to my underpants and clambering over the dam wall.
"Get in!" I holler at him. "It will need both of us!"
"Get IN, sir?" he warbled very nervously.
"Get the fuck in the water!" I said quite calmly and so he starts to whip off the keks.
By that stage I was halfway across the dam with the water level just high enough to chill my nuts to raisin sized pods. Fuck, it was cold.
The terrified little buck was thrashing even more strenuously at my approach but it was evident he was very weak. I reached him, noting that his head had penetrated the netting and he was locked there, midway up his neck unable to go backward or forward. Or so I thought. My closeness spurred him into one last surge and he broke free from the netting and began a frantic doggy paddle around the perimeter of the dam away from me.
"Cut him off," I said to Johannes who was by now immersed up to his nads as well and looking none too pleased at this turn of events.
We steered the little guy toward the lilies but he flitted past me only to entangle himself in the shade netting once again, this time by the horns.
I grabbed him, twisted him loose then we were both manhandling the duiker to the edge where I handed him over the wall to the shivering Johannes on the other side.
"Okay," I said. "See if he can stand."
Johannes released him and we witnessed the Bambi on ice scene as he pedaled hopelessly in the dirt, too weak to hold his own weight.
"Grab him" I yelled and Johannes did. "Right, let's get him to the hok at the back of the house. I'll meet you there."
And so the underpanted men intrepidly set off toward the house.
I met Johannes there with a whole bunch of towels and we managed to slowly calm the buck down while drying him off and talking quietly to the poor thing, him bleating and struggling to break free.
Fortunately I still had the infra-red lamp in there from the days of Peggy's piglets and I got that going pronto. We moved him under the lamp while continuing to dry him.
I made a couple of phone calls - to Karen and then Nicci at FreeMe Wildlife Rehabilitation organisation, following which I prepped a syringe with some Rescue solution which I administered to the buck.
We closed off the front of the cage to prevent any scary distractions and added a bowl of water and buck pellets.
By the time we'd sorted all of this out, the little bokkie was much calmer and was happily standing on his own. No apparent damage.
This has to be a blessing in disguise and maybe it's the universe working out solutions for all our animals - not that I'm laying any claim to this little wild duiker. But the fact is, he must've been trapped in our property when we completed the installation of the bottom electric fence and he's been on his own in here for over a year, maybe two or three...
So I called Askari game lodge and spoke to Wiempie, the head ranger there who advised us to keep the buck caged for a couple of days and just make sure he had food and water and warmth. Wiempie was very stoked at the idea of taking our duiker and so are we.
The little guy deserves to be out in wide open spaces where he can maybe even hook up with a bokkie babe.
All in all for the best.
Besides, we have no idea or control over what happens when I leave here. Maybe the new owner has a pack of boerbuls or other dogs which could make a duiker's life a misery and even terminate it quite horribly.
And that, my friends, is the story of the duiker rescue.
Tomorrow I take Cleo Catra, our old granny cat, to her new owner and then it's just me and the seven babies who'll be heading off to Oz and Karen, or as she is now known, Kazza Muzza...
Happy it's a warm day. My shoes are drying nicely.
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