
I know I promised the story of how I came to be with my mother in the first blog, but she has gone on leave and abandoned me here on Samara. Not to worry, I am staying with Marolientjie and she is spoiling me to bits with bacon and pork sausages. I hope my Mom doesn’t notice that I have gained some weight.
In this blog I want to share with you the story of me and the monkeys.
To be honest and I mean completely honest they drive me up the wall or should I say trees! They walk around as if they own this place and this place is mine not theirs so I have to put them in their place. I must say I am doing a pretty good job as well.
You can see them coming from a distance and then, all of a sudden, they are all over the place. Pitter patting on the roof, peering through windows and even coming in to steal some sugar packets and rusks. How dare they?!
That’s when my job start, yes, my official title at Samara is Monkey Chaser. I have to protect the High Tea snacks and the breakfast tables. My payment you may ask? That is, of course, some bacon from the kitchen and maybe some Springbok Carpaccio if there is any left.
So as soon as I see a monkey the hairs on my back rise straight up and I bolt across the big grass lawn chasing them all up the trees to where they belong.
The only downside is when the lovely ladies have polished the veranda floors this causes quite a spectacle as I then have no control over my movements and my ungainly demeanour causes some mirth amongst the Samara staff. Which does not please me but more of this to follow in the next blog!
