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May 12 2008 - The Dark Side Of The Garden Of Eden
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My blog has been on my mind for several weeks now, and yes, I owe you an apology, yet again, for it's lateness. I'm very grateful to you all for bearing with me. We've been having a very difficult time at the Sanctuary for some weeks now. Some monkeys who were sent to us from another centre arrived with a very virulent strain of worms which is extremely dangerous to monkeys. Of course, it spread like wildfire, and our anti-biotics didn't do the trick. Monkeys have been dying daily and all of us are walking around with heavy hearts, and eyes bruised from crying. Some new drugs were found which proved successful, so slowly but surely the outbreak is being contained and brought under control. But we've all had to say 'good-bye' to monkeys who were very special to us. My special boy was Dusty (nick-named Bucket) who I'd known for the last two years. For several months after we'd first been introduced, Dusty made it his business to bite me every time I went into his enclosure. He had shifty eyes, and native cunning, which he exploited to his advantage on a daily basis. I decided that he was a deeply unpleasant monkey and voiced my opinion loudly and frequently. He wasn't at all of course, he was an orphan with a weakened immune system, who was fighting against significant odds to remain alive. Bucket was actually a 'big girl's blouse,' despite the swagger and the 'don't mess with me, I'm a mean monkey' persona. As I grew more sensitive to his needs our relationship reflected our growing closeness. He now came and sat on my lap, nuzzling into my neck chattering and snuffling incessantly. He was a very sensitive little chap and it is doubtful he would have made it into the outside enclosure; it would have proved too stressful for him. His health was always fragile, and last year he became very stressed and all his fur fell out. Despite the gravity of his situation, it was impossible to look at Bucket without dissolving into shrieks of laughter. He looked so alien without his coat and it was so unusual to see a monkey in that condition. His face, denuded of fur, was a combination of youthful innocence and an eternity of pain. A very tired E.T. but still essentially Bucket. He liked his food did Bucket, and was always first at the enclosure door when ever 'room service' arrived. I once made the mistake of taking in a pocketful of corn: Bucket discovered it immediately, dived into the pocket and emerged with corn in both hands and crammed into his mouth. The other guys, seeing his haul decided to come and join the party. Being extremely unwilling to share his food source, Bucket took issue with the gate crashers, and fists were flying, tails were bitten and blows exchanged. From then on, whenever I entered his enclosure, he would thud up to me immediately, and go straight for the pocket. Upon discovering that it contained no hidden goodies, he would give me a disgusted look and hop away only to change his mind and come back and bite me. It was more of a token bite, but he'd made his deep displeasure quite evident and I was put firmly in my place. Monkeys can really make you feel like absolute rubbish on occasion. But his fur did grow back, and he did regain his strength and he became so much happier. He would frequently throw his weight around in the enclosure, pulling a tail here, throwing a punch there, and when he pushed his luck too far and was challenged by a high rank monkey, he'd come leaping over, bury himself in my arms and make lots of, 'please don't let the nasty monkey hit me Mum,' noises. He was irrisistible; I had such respect for that little monkey; for his courage, his humour and his complexity. But he, too, fell victim to the worms and after a valiant fight, finally died on Monday, July 7th. Although I had been privileged to enjoy a very close relationship with him, Bucket was Indie's boy. She and he adored each other on sight, and Dust became to Indie what Felix had been to me. And she is still in England. I found having to give her such devastating news over the telephone extremely difficult, but she assured me that I'd done the right thing by telling her before she arrives back at the Sanctuary - which is next week, thank God - rather than hitting her with it upon arrival. Vicky, Lornie, Lisa, Hilde and myself, buried him that evening in a grave next to Star and Felix. We knew it would be important to Indie to have somewhere to visit, not so that she could say 'good-bye' because you never say 'good-bye' to a monkey with whom you have shared so much intimacy. The piece of your heart that they have claimed, they never relinquish. And so my precious Dust, I hope you've joined that great big Vervet forest in the sky. I will always love you, and I am richer for having known you. My love to you all, xxxxxxx
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