Baboon Lullaby

Every night at around 8:30 or 9:00, I go to Marieta's house and help her with the final bottle feeding and diapering of the four baby baboons. The two oldest, Coco and Jessie, are a piece of cake. They're used to it, can't wait for their bottle, and tolerate the diapering nicely. So I do those first.

Then come the two newest arrivals, Bobbie and Annie. They're still quite wild and don't like to be held too much. They resist--and I mean RESIST--diapering. Once the diapers are on, they're fine, but the process is quite strenuous, to say the least.

Some basic information--for those of you who don't normally diaper baboons as a part of your daily life: First you must create a hole through the diaper for the tail. (I used to use scissors, but Marieta called me a rookie, so now I bite a hole through the diaper with my teeth, Rambo-style, just like she does.) Then you must thread the tail through the hole, putting the diaper on BACKWARDS because otherwise the baboons will pull them off in record time. The fasteners must be behind them so they can't figure out how to take it off. Got it? Sounds easy, right?

Not so fast, my friend.

I decided this experience must be documented, especially since I don't have children and therefore haven't changed thousands of diapers in my life. Mom, are you watching? I am, I admit proudly, pretty good at baboon diapering.

At least some of the time.

Lately, Marieta and I have had to do Bobbie and Annie together. They scream. They fight. They act like we're tearing their hearts out. Usually one of us holds the arms and legs and the other works the diaper. But tonight, for the sake of art--and by art, I mean my blog--I decided to do it myself and have Marieta film me. Jo and Schalk were there as witnesses (actually, Jo was giving Marieta a pedicure) which turned out to be handy because I needed Schalk at a crucial time. As you'll see.

The first baby boon, Bobbie--who is usually the wildest--went like a breeze. It took only 58 seconds to put the diaper on from start to finish, according to my film. I was thinking World Record, Olympics, Baboon Hall of Fame.

And then came Annie.

Well, she was just a bit harder. But still, if you watch the time, it took less than 2 minutes--with an assist by Schalk. It only seems longer because of the screaming--Annie's, not mine. Not exactly ready for Professional Baboon Wrangling, but definitely in contention for the Amateur league. Don't believe me? Just try it yourself.

And no one got pooped on, peed on, or bitten. That's a winner in my book.

New Arrivals

We got some new baby baboons the other day. A farmer near the Botswana border caught the pair (two females) in a trap, called Harnas for help rather than shooting them, and then Frikkie and Sissel went to pick them up.

They're very young--smaller by far than Coco and Jessie. As you can see in the picture, one even still has a pink face--which they only have when they're babies. Then it turns black.

Pretty wild still. We've only had them one day, so they haven't got used to humans holding them and feeding them with bottles.

The big news is that, for the first time, Marieta suggested that we name them after ME. That's right, people out there, there are now TWO animals on Harnas named after Yours Truly.

At first I resisted because "Barbara" isn't exactly a cute name for a baboon, but then I remembered that my grandfather on my father's side used to call me Bobbie. I always liked that and kind of wished other people would use that nickname, but that just didn't work out. So the one with the pink face is named Bobbie. (It's also cute because the Afrikaans name for baboon is "bobbejaan"--pronounced "Bob-ee-yon"--so it's a bobbejaan named Bobbie.)

I told Marieta that she should choose the other name but she said she was exhausted from naming animals and that I should name the second one to kind of match the first. So in a total fit of egocentric behavior, I used my middle name, Anne. (No Beach Boys jokes, please.) So the second one, with the blacker face, is named Annie.

So far they act a lot like me--they're totally uncivilized, scream a lot, refuse to do what others want, and bite when they get mad. But Marieta and I are going to work with them a lot today and get them used to our touch. Tonight she and I will each take two of the four babies for sleeping. I'm so glad that Marieta trusts me enough to let me help.

What fun to work with baby animals! By 8:00 yesterday morning, I had already been peed and pooped on twice! Classic Harnas.

the biggest and the smallest

Here on Harnas--as in the wild--life and death are close to the surface, unlike in the urban and suburban worlds where we like to keep ourselves separate from the gritty aspects of living, eating, and dying. With 400 animals living in approximately 38 square miles, both predator and prey, things happen. Animals come and animals go; birth and death.

Having said that, I have two sad deaths to report--one, especially, is hard because I just wrote a blog about him. DooDoo the owl was killed on Monday night by one of the 45-plus cats that live here. For 8 years, DooDoo has lived in Marieta's kitchen, but that night, a cat broke through one of her screens on a window, and in the morning Marieta found DooDoo's body. The volunteers buried him yesterday in the animal cemetery close to the lapa. As you can imagine, those who knew DooDoo are very upset, and Marieta claims if she finds the cat, he'll be joining DooDoo (but she doesn't mean it). The kitchen seems so quiet now, and in truth I miss the drama of wondering if he'll swoop by and grab some of my hair.

So one of the smallest is gone, and this week we also lost the largest animal on the property: the big, wild male giraffe. Apparently, during a storm he walked underneath a power line. The line was high enough not to hit him, but I was told that during storms, the electricity can spread out up to a meter in any direction. He was found dead the next day. He was enormous! I saw him just a few weeks ago at the end of the airstrip, and he was truly a giant. Klippie, a female and not fully grown, looks like a miniature giraffe next to him. He is too big to bury or move, so he will stay there until the other animals make use of his body. That's the way things go in the wild: an animal dies and others live because of--or in spite of--it.

I don't want to leave with a sad note, so let me give you some happy updates. Jessie and Coco are completely recovered from their injuries. They are jumping around like acrobats, swimming in the pool, and basically making mischief. I took Jessie for a few hours last night, and I'll include a short video of Jessie and me (and Pickles) hanging out on my bed.

The new caracal, Zinzi, is also adjusting. She let me pet her some last night--only hissing and striking out halfheartedly when I got too close to her belly or paws. And by the way, one of Harnas' best friends, Cornelia, pointed out in a comment that I wrote the former owner "unfortunately got married." Sorry about that! I swear it wasn't a Freudian slip! I meant it was unfortunate that she had to move to an apartment with her new husband BECAUSE it meant giving up her pet caracal. (I did laugh out loud, though, Cornelia!)

So literally, life goes on here at Harnas. And the loss of animals reminds me how precious and wonderful each moment is at this magical place.

baboons in my bed

Marieta has gone to Windhoek (3-hour drive) for a few days for a carnivore-caretakers conference (not exactly the Junior League), so she asked me to baboon-sit the two newest babies here on Harnas, Coco and Jessie. I was very flattered since she doesn't let just anybody take care of her little ones. Baboons are her favorite.

Most of the time it's easy: I have to feed them a bottle every four hours, but most of the day they spend in their nice enclosure with a little house, swings, trees, and visiting volunteers. Sometimes I take them out to the grassy area under the tree to play. But at night they need nurturing, so I sleep with them in my bed.

In case you're wondering, they wear preemie diapers. I cut a hole in the back side, thread their tails through it, and fasten the diapers around their midsection--just like human babies, except for the tail of course. And of course it's not easy to do all this with a baboon who won't hold still.

After the last bottle for the night and getting those diapers on, I took them to the bedroom. The first hour or so was pretty lively. I thought I'd removed anything that looks like a toy to them, but then I realized that anything can be a toy to a baboon. Their favorite game was for one to distract me while the other climbed the headboard and jumped on my face from above. ( I have new respect for mothers with twins.)

Little by little they calmed down, starting sucking on their pacifiers (yes, a pacifier!), and we settled down for the night. I'd wake up every so often to check on them. Once they were cuddled one under each arm, another time they were hugging each other. Another time we were all spooning, and once one of them was stretched out across my neck with a little hand resting on my cheek. It was sweet--but a little claustrophobic.

They slept for 8 hours, woke ready to play, and I fed them and took them to their enclosure for a few hours. A one-of-a-kind experience.

I get to do it all over tonight. Marieta will be home tomorrow.

I'll attach a couple of pictures of them. When they hang on your legs, we call them baboon-boots.

And by the way, if there's anybody out there reading this--and I'm not sure if there is--feel free to email me to ask questions about Harnas, the animals, the book I've written, or anything else that seems appropriate. I'm listening!