A lynx and Hade-da's...

Being a lynx, and considering her wild nature, it was not unexpected that soon she would take command of the house and its inhabitants. Everyday would become an adventure, from Rosie’s game of chasing the hysterical maids into the toilet at the end of the garden, where we would find one of them perched on top of the toilet or clinging for dear life from the rafters. The news of this much feared animal quickly made its way into the township where the African staff lived. Gardeners would disappear and never return, and building workers would often refuse to enter the property. After all, the native population had an inherent fear of these predators, told to them in villages by their forefathers. After each mock attack, she would turn and stroll away, then roll around on her back with joy and glee as though nothing had happened.

The rustle of shopping bags would bring her charging into the kitchen. All chicken and meat would be packed away with haste, often having to throw a piece across the garden in order to ‘move’ her. Local butchers had come to know about Rosie, and always had a treat of venison or springhare ready to send home for her. On every shopping visit they would be eager to hear about the latest of her antics.

On many occasions, family dinner or lunch would be reduced to a serving of only vegetables, with Rosie having snatched the chicken or Sunday roast from the kitchen counter. I soon found her in the long grass under her favourite tree, endulging in a fine leg of lamb. Family gatherings would be centered around the movement of this unpredictable and at times illusive cat. Friends would be seated around the dinner table chatting for hours, while we thought Rosie was safely locked outside. Without warning, a sudden hiss would explode from under the table, chairs and furniture scattered as family would fall over themselves trying to escape. During all the conversation she had quietly slipped in, not to miss out on any gathering or company. In her defence, I would agree that she had become annoyed at someone's continuous boring ramble; she had sensed my irritation and decided that enough of this, and voiced her own opinion with a tremendous hiss from below! She would be loved by a few, and feared by all others.

At just a few years old, Rosie had reached adolescence, and started practicing her instinctive hunting skills. Every night she would settle down on the bed next to me. Sprawled out at full length, she would take up most of the bed. A few hours after midnight I would be jolted awake as the pillow would be ripped from beneath my head, the hot breath in my face, and growling of what appeared to be a possessed creature at my side. The second pillow was now torn away and cast aside, then the duvet would be pulled off in a vicious tug of war. Next went the mattress, an entire queen size bed with me still clinging on top would be dragged across the floor. Her jaws were locked onto the corner, while her powerful legs pulled the mattress from its base. I would be left without any protection, leaping onto the bedside pedestal. For years I could never understand this relationship between Rosie and the pillows, until one day the obvious dawned upon me - I had always preferred to sleep under a duvet and pillows filled with feather down. Rosie had waited for me to fall asleep, and at night she would hunt and kill the bed! Nothing would survive her claws and teeth, with her captured pillows being torn and plucked.

This was the nocturnal side of having more than a handful of a cat in the home.

A pair of large birds called Hade-Da’s had taken up residence in our garden. These are large, heavily bodied brown birds with long pointed curved bills, who are notorious for their screeching sound of “Haa- Haa-Haa de da”. Within a short time of Rosie watching these two from a distance, one day she felt it necessary to put her stalking skills into action. The pair of large birds were on the lawn when she decided to launch herself from a low crouch into a sprint. While I held my breath from afar, I realized that her dash had something peculiar about it. In an instant she had reached the two birds, but pulled up to an abrupt stop just inches away. As she stood there, the male bird took one step forward and decisively pecked her directly on top of her head, right between her proud tufted ears ! In an instant she had dashed for cover. Looking confused and dazed, the ever feared lynx had now been outwitted by a bird!

The two Hade-Da birds lived happily within the garden, and at each flight they would let out a loud screech overhead, as if in gesture to Rosie watching from below. Within a few months they had their first chick, who would perch on the wall for hours gazing down at this lynx. Soon he also learnt how to let out this Ha-Ha cry, just to add to Rosie's daily source of entertainment.

Every moment of the day is filled with an adventurous event, and through the eyes of nature life itself is a blessing

Sean