It's war

Just going through the pictures from our short break reminded me of the the Marakele Vervet Monkey war of 2013....

No. It's not a prisoner of war. It's trying to get the bits of meat stuck onto the braai grid.

When I saw them moving through the camp on the first day I made a point of saying "there's a troop of Vervets, don't leave anything lying around"
We have not managed to get through nearly 28 years of marriage by Walter actually listening to me (I call this the wife white noise strategy) and he gave me his customary nod and smile and carried on regardless.

Sure enough - the very next day I spotted one making a lightning-fast dash across the deck, grabbing Walter's cigarettes off the table without missing a beat and leaping into the trees holding his prize aloft. Of course once he opened the box and took a sniff of the contents he threw it away in disgust (fortunately. I'm not sure how we would have removed them otherwise)



Walter, who had also managed to 'mislay' his Blackberry cover and his reading glasses case suddenly realised who was responsible. He looked at the alpha male sitting in the tree and lost it. Testosterone to the fore he raged at the troop, calling their entire family line into doubt and suggesting none of their parents had ever been married. The monkeys looked down at him in curious amusement while the alpha male simply turned around and showed Walter his nether regions.

Bite me.

Walter, quite dumbstruck by this lack of respect for a 'superior' primate, threatened dire retaliation and announced he was now officially at war with them. The alpha male quite rightly ignored him and continued on his way (the human white noise strategy). I don't think I helped matters much by laughing at both of them.
I should have known that wouldn't be the end of it, I was so busy congratulating myself for not saying "I told you so" that I got distracted.

Walter, meanwhile, was quietly plotting his revenge. Early the next morning he quietly left the room in search of suitable weapons, returning with a whole pile of stones.
I was alarmed. "You can't throw stones at the monkeys, what if you actually hit one?" He ignored me and piled his ammunition close by, keeping a careful eye out for the enemy.

En garde, Walter-style

A short while later the troop arrived for their dawn raid. Not expecting a retaliatory attack they cheerfully made their thieving way through the trees towards us when Walter struck, launching a fusillade from the front.

The battle raged for a good ten minutes - Walter racing between piles of ammunition and lofting stones into the upper reaches of the trees for the noise effect (he didn't want to actually hit one, just to make a point) while the alpha male bobbed up and down menacingly and screeched insults at Walter.

And I actually thought it would end there, both sides having shown some restraint without damaging their masculinity. I packed the coffee and snacks and we left for our game drive, Walter with a little "I showed them" smile on his face.

But the monkeys had the last word; a pile of monkey dung left right outside our door greeted us on our return.