ChrisT
AH enthusiast
I posted this article on another forum earlier this year so for those who read the "other" forum and those from AH who visited us this year and heard the story first-hand my apologies for the duplication...
She named him "Conan"…
Now how on Earth a baby Mongoose reminded her of Conan the Barbarian I don't know but it took her about 5 seconds to find a name for the little Banded Mongoose that I found alone next to the road on that fateful day - now almost a year ago…
Of course I should have known better! As Outdoorsman with more than average knowledge of wildlife I knew full and well that wild animals are just that - wild - and as such should be left in the wild. But I guess my wife's Birthday lunch accompanied by a bottle or two of Chardonnay did play a role in my impaired judgment that day…
Anyway; Conan got a free ride to camp and so joined the rest of the band on our Ranch - including the horses, dogs and parrot…
I have to admit that (as then leading band member) at first I enjoyed the little fellow's company. He sure was cute and quickly found a place in everyone's hearts except for that of my Jack Russel Terrier who could not quite understand the concept of "prey" now becoming "band members". But, well behaved as she is, she "accepted" him and knew that he was off limits as far as her primary sport of hunting was concerned… Didn't stop her from giving him "the look" whenever he scurried past her but being aware of her own interests, she stayed away from him as far as possible to avoid any temptation (and consequences that could be avoided).
The Rottweiler, on the other hand immediately adopted him and soon they were best friends. They shared the same bed and if Conan appeared to misbehave Maximilian would gently pick him up in his big mouth and move him to where he could keep an eye on him.
I guess it goes without saying that Conan was now the new love of my wife's life with me playing second fiddle… And when her Mother arrived for a visit - I lost my spot in the band completely - which was fine - but which brings me to the next chapter…
The Afrikaans translation for Mongoose is Muishond (or translated in reverse - Mouse dog) and with good reason… Because they can STINK.
And the reason why they stink is because they urinate at anytime and in any place where they deem fit. Whether that be in their own beds, on your bed, on the sofa, on each other, on themselves or on YOU… In short; you cannot potty train or house train a Banded Mongoose and you can take my word for this - I have the experience… (now)…
When this "habit" of Conan became evident I casually brought up the subject during discussions with the "bandmembers" (remember I had lost my primary spot in the band) and suggested that I build an enclosure for it outside… That way; whoever was in the mood to be urinated on could go outside and play with the Mongoose and those who were not in the mood to stink - could stay inside and away from the Mongoose… To me this suggestion seemed totally logical and fair - but to the leading band members it did not…
See; it was imperative that Conan be in the house - especially in the evenings when he was comfortable in any of his favorite spots - whether that be on top of the Rottweiler, on Mother-in-Law's or on my wife's lap…
As the weeks (and months) went by; another habit Conan developed was to start marking his territory… which he would do - not only anywhere he could in the house - but also by jumping onto the feet of anyone he encountered - except for the main band members of course as he had no need to pee on their feet - he could simply do it while he was sleeping in their laps…
This turned out to be somewhat of a frustration for me - because not only was this inconvenient for visiting guests but it was particularly inconvenient for me - who spent more time around here than any guest… And I have to confess that over time rather intense murderous feelings were awakened deep inside me… Of course there was no way I could let these murderous intentions get the better of me. If I did anything to that Mongoose I would not only be out of the band but also out of my bed and out of my inheritance so I brushed these thoughts aside while I was silently hoping that an owl, falcon or eagle would at some point in time fly by… Which hopes were of course completely futile as owls, falcons and eagles do not have a tendency to fly into houses looking for prey…
I started considering the option of hiring an assassin… After all; I have many friends who has the necessary expertise to do the "job"… The question was: "Who?" Whoever I chose to hire for this contract killing would need to be 100% dependable and trustworthy as if ever, EVER it were to come out that I played a role in Conan's demise I would be toast… I dismissed the thought completely when I watched the News and saw how some Indian fella had hired guys to kill his newlywed wife on their honeymoon in Cape Town and how quickly those who got caught turned around and implicated him as being the main conspirator…
With all of these murderous thoughts still mulling through my head - my parents came to visit…
As usual, Conan picked his first target to mark his territory and ran up to it - in this case the target was my Mother... I rushed to her rescue, picked him up and locked him in his hamster cage so that we could enjoy some coffee and good conversation without any further interference... A "band member" however thought it wise to release Conan from his confinement… what followed was a "life changing event"...
The following is my version of the story... the remaining band members of course have their own...
We got up from the sofas outside and made our way towards the house. Of course Conan knew a shortcut - which coincidentally led him over my feet and needless to say he couldn't resist the temptation to yet again mark his territory…
As I'm a band member no longer and playing fiddle no more, I'll now try out Lyrics, hope I'm not a bore…
"The End of a Mongoose" - by Chris Troskie
My kick came involuntary - and with no ill intent
It was more of a "reaction"- than a planned event
Perhaps my fuse was too short- but fact is I kicked
Not AT the mongoose - didn't think he'd get nicked
I completely forgot - about the elephant skull…
That was on my porch - I should have known that too well!
Conan went tumbling - right through the air
And all he left on the skull - was some Mongoose head-hair
Believe me my friends - it's all now quite clear
DON'T kill anything - that your wife holds dear
Mongoose may be banded - but they've no place in YOUR band
They've got a band of their own - don't give them a hand
That's the end of my story - quite sad I'm afraid.
And it's been almost a year now - since I last got …
Laid-back; is not quite how I would describe the last year. I think I will go now - and open a beer…
Regards,
Chris Troskie
Real Hunts for Real Hunters!
She named him "Conan"…
Now how on Earth a baby Mongoose reminded her of Conan the Barbarian I don't know but it took her about 5 seconds to find a name for the little Banded Mongoose that I found alone next to the road on that fateful day - now almost a year ago…
Of course I should have known better! As Outdoorsman with more than average knowledge of wildlife I knew full and well that wild animals are just that - wild - and as such should be left in the wild. But I guess my wife's Birthday lunch accompanied by a bottle or two of Chardonnay did play a role in my impaired judgment that day…
Anyway; Conan got a free ride to camp and so joined the rest of the band on our Ranch - including the horses, dogs and parrot…
I have to admit that (as then leading band member) at first I enjoyed the little fellow's company. He sure was cute and quickly found a place in everyone's hearts except for that of my Jack Russel Terrier who could not quite understand the concept of "prey" now becoming "band members". But, well behaved as she is, she "accepted" him and knew that he was off limits as far as her primary sport of hunting was concerned… Didn't stop her from giving him "the look" whenever he scurried past her but being aware of her own interests, she stayed away from him as far as possible to avoid any temptation (and consequences that could be avoided).
The Rottweiler, on the other hand immediately adopted him and soon they were best friends. They shared the same bed and if Conan appeared to misbehave Maximilian would gently pick him up in his big mouth and move him to where he could keep an eye on him.
I guess it goes without saying that Conan was now the new love of my wife's life with me playing second fiddle… And when her Mother arrived for a visit - I lost my spot in the band completely - which was fine - but which brings me to the next chapter…
The Afrikaans translation for Mongoose is Muishond (or translated in reverse - Mouse dog) and with good reason… Because they can STINK.
And the reason why they stink is because they urinate at anytime and in any place where they deem fit. Whether that be in their own beds, on your bed, on the sofa, on each other, on themselves or on YOU… In short; you cannot potty train or house train a Banded Mongoose and you can take my word for this - I have the experience… (now)…
When this "habit" of Conan became evident I casually brought up the subject during discussions with the "bandmembers" (remember I had lost my primary spot in the band) and suggested that I build an enclosure for it outside… That way; whoever was in the mood to be urinated on could go outside and play with the Mongoose and those who were not in the mood to stink - could stay inside and away from the Mongoose… To me this suggestion seemed totally logical and fair - but to the leading band members it did not…
See; it was imperative that Conan be in the house - especially in the evenings when he was comfortable in any of his favorite spots - whether that be on top of the Rottweiler, on Mother-in-Law's or on my wife's lap…
As the weeks (and months) went by; another habit Conan developed was to start marking his territory… which he would do - not only anywhere he could in the house - but also by jumping onto the feet of anyone he encountered - except for the main band members of course as he had no need to pee on their feet - he could simply do it while he was sleeping in their laps…
This turned out to be somewhat of a frustration for me - because not only was this inconvenient for visiting guests but it was particularly inconvenient for me - who spent more time around here than any guest… And I have to confess that over time rather intense murderous feelings were awakened deep inside me… Of course there was no way I could let these murderous intentions get the better of me. If I did anything to that Mongoose I would not only be out of the band but also out of my bed and out of my inheritance so I brushed these thoughts aside while I was silently hoping that an owl, falcon or eagle would at some point in time fly by… Which hopes were of course completely futile as owls, falcons and eagles do not have a tendency to fly into houses looking for prey…
I started considering the option of hiring an assassin… After all; I have many friends who has the necessary expertise to do the "job"… The question was: "Who?" Whoever I chose to hire for this contract killing would need to be 100% dependable and trustworthy as if ever, EVER it were to come out that I played a role in Conan's demise I would be toast… I dismissed the thought completely when I watched the News and saw how some Indian fella had hired guys to kill his newlywed wife on their honeymoon in Cape Town and how quickly those who got caught turned around and implicated him as being the main conspirator…
With all of these murderous thoughts still mulling through my head - my parents came to visit…
As usual, Conan picked his first target to mark his territory and ran up to it - in this case the target was my Mother... I rushed to her rescue, picked him up and locked him in his hamster cage so that we could enjoy some coffee and good conversation without any further interference... A "band member" however thought it wise to release Conan from his confinement… what followed was a "life changing event"...
The following is my version of the story... the remaining band members of course have their own...
We got up from the sofas outside and made our way towards the house. Of course Conan knew a shortcut - which coincidentally led him over my feet and needless to say he couldn't resist the temptation to yet again mark his territory…
As I'm a band member no longer and playing fiddle no more, I'll now try out Lyrics, hope I'm not a bore…
"The End of a Mongoose" - by Chris Troskie
My kick came involuntary - and with no ill intent
It was more of a "reaction"- than a planned event
Perhaps my fuse was too short- but fact is I kicked
Not AT the mongoose - didn't think he'd get nicked
I completely forgot - about the elephant skull…
That was on my porch - I should have known that too well!
Conan went tumbling - right through the air
And all he left on the skull - was some Mongoose head-hair
Believe me my friends - it's all now quite clear
DON'T kill anything - that your wife holds dear
Mongoose may be banded - but they've no place in YOUR band
They've got a band of their own - don't give them a hand
That's the end of my story - quite sad I'm afraid.
And it's been almost a year now - since I last got …
Laid-back; is not quite how I would describe the last year. I think I will go now - and open a beer…
Regards,
Chris Troskie
Real Hunts for Real Hunters!
Last edited by a moderator:
