Bring it home.

My knack for annoying people seems to have branched out. It now also includes small furry animals.



On my first day in the flat in Stellenbosch I saw just the sweetest little squirrel running around outside. I watched hypnotised as it ran along the rafters, once with a nut in its mouth, once without, once with, once without. Such a great example of diligence I thought. What a sweet neighbour.


That was till I actually opened the back door. Well. Let me tell you, everytime I do that squirrel pops out of nowhere and puts up an academy award winning performance in which I’m the husband who’s just arrived home at 3am drunk. The tail taught, the scream high pitched, running forward and backward like it’s calling the troops and showing the enemy in the distance. Except I’m like two meters away.


After the squirrel has finally gotten the award, thanked it’s parents, God and it’s lover I attempt to water the garden. Here I have to contend with a small brown mouse who inevitably is in disagreement with my decision to wet everything. It runs from this bush to that, and back to the first. If it’s screaming at me (which is suspect it probably is) it’s in a pitch foreign to my ears, and if it’s attempting to get rid of me all and all it’s not doing as good a job of it as the squirrel is.


Perhaps I should follow the example set by one of my American hosts. They were resident in New Yersey and had bear cut-outs in the back garden which supposedly kept live ones at bay.


Perhaps I shall make myself a collection of mouse- and squirrel family cut-outs and position them amongst the plants in the backyard to see if this strategy really works. Perhaps I shall indeed.


This is what is called bringing the knowledge home and applying it at grass roots level people.