Fw: The Bally Vaughan Sanctuary Newsletter April 2009 - Circle of Life

May 21, 2009

Newsletter from Zimbabwe Animal Sanctuary

- Sarah Carter

lady

Thursday, May 21, 2009 1:30 PM

Fw: The Bally Vaughan Sanctuary News April 2009

- Sarah Carter

Vinay Ramlaul

Tuesday, May 19, 2009 08:25

The Bally Vaughan Sanctuary News April 2009

Dear All

"The Circle of Life":

A surreal air of calm has settled over Zimbabwe. We watch politicians embrace and commiserate, clenched fists transformed into clasped hands and vicious vitriole exchanged for songs of solidarity (and pleas for billions of dollars of international aid to rebuild our country). The rollercoaster ride of politics is the reason many of our animals sought refuge at the Sanctuary, and we continue to take in new family members every week and to cope with all the third world problems of our country that will be with us for a very long time to come. Daily power cuts continue, for up to 18 hours at a time. Uncertainty and upheaval in the farming areas haunts us. Antiquated equipment breaks down, communications remain a constant and infuriating challenge as we trek up the mountain several times a day to try and get cell phone signal. The worsening economic situation means that cases of neglect and cruelty are spiralling at the same time that our donors are having to tighten their belts. Work continues at the Sanctuary regardless.

Babu the baboon arrived one Saturday afternoon, starting her long journey towards rehabilitation and a new life. She joined Sheila and Lois, our other rescued baboons, and has adjusted well to her new life at the Sanctuary. Each evening as the light fades over the water and our predators summon the night with their chorus of whoops and roars, Babu rocks herself to sleep in her hammock with Sheila and Lois in comforting proximity; one day closer to the life she should be leading. Our baboons will be released into the wild once a safe location can be found for them and they are mature enough to cope with life in the wild. Kim Devlin and Sarah Savory have been exceptional sponsors of this little baboon; visiting regularly with treats and covering her costs. We are very grateful for their concern and support.

Eduardo the Sulphur Crested Cockatoo came in a week later. As slick and charismatic as the lead singer in boy band, he puts on flamboyant performances the moment he has any sort of audience, be it people, birds or animals. Whistling, shouting and flaunting his fabulous feathers, he refuses to relinquish one moment in the limelight, to the intense irritation of his housemates, Dum-Dum and Charlie who occasionally resort to silencing him forcibly by holding his beak shut.

A total of fourteen birds joined our family this month, 2 vervet monkeys, a baboon, a bat (rehabilitated and released) and a zebra. Next week a new lion arrives. Inbred and unwanted, one of the many casualties of the rampant and uncontrolled breeding of lions in this country, Nduna will start a new life at the Sanctuary as a companion to Kadiki the Lioness.

Those of you who visit the Sanctuary regularly will be familiar with the endearing antics of our beloved Kadiki. In our hearts Kadiki and the man who rescued her and brought her to the Sanctuary will always be linked. Jon Langerman passed away in March this year. We will always remember Jon as a valued mentor, respected conservationist and a true friend.

A message about a donkey in distress in the resettlement area came through early one morning. We loaded our Third World Donkey Carrier (a fabulous contraption of rusting steel poles and an old gate) onto the truck and headed off down yet another alarmingly eroded dirt road, goats and chickens foraging in the dust and wildly waving children running alongside. As the road faded into a barely discernible track, we came to the home of Jacob the donkey; a tiny homestead at the base of a red stone kopje. Jacob was tied to a tree with a frayed rope, his ribs protruding sharply from his tattered grey coat. One ear dangled sadly over his lugubrious face, the ear cartilage agonisingly full of screw worms. His immense dark eyes spoke of all the years of work and back-breaking burdens and ill-fitting wooden harnesses and miles and miles run on his old chipped hooves on hot tar roads. Even his tail was raw and bleeding. We loaded Jacob onto the truck and offered him a bucket of mash. Without hesitation, he plunged his worn old head into the bucket and didn't emerge until we arrived home. He has made a remarkable recovery and is spoilt rotten by us all. Every morning he waits anxiously in front of the feed shed, shifting from one hoof to the other, peering out from under his battered ears as if he cant quite believe that yet again a large breakfast will be served to him, just as it was the day before. He then wanders down to the Gazebo to supervise the preparation of the monkey food and to ensure he snacks on all the best titbits. A snooze down by the water in the morning sun, a stroll round the Sanctuary, a rummage in the kitchen bins and its time for dinner before we put him into his stripy pyjamas and he settles down for the night. Jacob was very quick to make the most of all amenities on offer. He likes to spend time in the restaurant and if he feels peckish he helps himself to a quick snack off the counter. The mystery of the unnaccounted for stock was solved when we found him pensively chewing on a pink marshmallow with a scattering of sweet wrappers round his hooves.

Kerry Bell and Gina Tedder Nolli made an extremely generous donation of blankets to our donkey rescue project. There are enough blankets to make pyjamas for all the donkeys and to make blankets to keep our sick and orphaned animals warm and comfortable. They also donated a large number of soft toys to our animals, providing much-needed comfort to our babies.Thanks to Carol Hobbs for her continued support of the Sanctuary donkeys, to Leanne Freel, Jason Bridge, Liz Bartholomew and Nadine Botha, Pro Foods, the Kelder family, Gina Everson, Valley Fresh, FreshPro, Green Park, Cherith and Ross Bingley and Sue Roberts for making the lives of our many herbivores happy and healthy. Maxime and Christiaan Islink recently adopted our Blue Duikers. They spent all their pocket money on a variety of sweets and then made up assorted packets to be sold at the Sanctuary to raise money for the Duikers. In one month they raised enough money to buy two bags of imported game cubes which is enough food for the Duikers for 12 weeks.

We are reminded of the endless cycle of life, and death, at the Sanctuary every day. That does not make it easier to say goodbye to animals so dearly loved and cherished that it is hard to imagine how we will carry on without them. No 4, our matriach mongoose, lost her life in a few brutal, bloody moments one sunlit Saturday morning. She died defending her little family after they strayed into the lion enclosure. Fiercely loyal and brave right to the end, she leaves behind a legacy of love and devotion that we hope will sustain her distressed and disorientated family who are finding the world a bewildering and fearful place after the loss of their matriach. On the morning that she died, she and I had spent a happy half hour together as she lay on my lap in the sun; just one more memory of our years together - raising her from a tiny, pink, blind baby, welcoming her own first babies, mourning with her over the loss of her devoted mate, Dasher, watching her teaching her daughters how to carry on her legacy. The mongooses enchant everyone who meets them, as they roam free throughout the Sanctuary and we will always remember No 4 as the greatest mongoose of all. Go well, little friend.

I find it essential to keep a detailed diary; keeping track of daily life at the Sanctuary is a huge task, with so many animals with varied needs. Each trip to town is organised like a military campaign, designed to consume the minimum amount of fuel and time whilst undertaking as many tasks as possible. The truck is loaded in layers, with tarpaulins separating monkey food, stock feed, water containers, meat for the lions, chicken mortalities for the small cats, jerry cans of fuel, perhaps a wheelbarrow or a bicycle or a capture cage on top of it all, and then a couple of people hanging on to the sides. In the cab you might find bags of groceries, piles of laundry, sundry bits of tattered paperwork, an owl or a bushbaby or a bat in a travel cage on its way to or from the vet, a python in a sack under the seat (to be released en route to town), miscellaneous items of clothing, a giant flashlight and sundry tools, including the bent screwdriver we have to use to open the tailgate of the truck. Somewhere in the midst of this is the driver, usually frantically dialling on a cell phone while consulting our ancient map book of Harare, or a hastily scribbled shopping list that could include anything from diesel oil to diuretics for the old donkey.

A typical diary entry might be as follows: Woken at 2am - the guards have seen a huge python in the bird house. Raining. Catch the python and go back to bed. 14 hour power cut so we run out of water. Cold bucket bath to start the day. Shirley the Rescue Chicken hatched out 9 chicks. Compressor blown on freezer again. New owl arrived. He can be rehabilitated and released. Emergency staff meeting - agree that donkeys must not be allowed in the tea room under any circumstances ever again. Took Silas to the clinic, complaining that "the rain is eating his feet". No medicines or doctor available. Have to push-start the truck. Cook announced she is pregnant. Maxwell announced serval cat is pregnant...this is impossible - her companion is neutered. Administered emergency first aid to my mother after she was attacked by parrots. Kylie the Hyena has a cold, Coco the donkey has pneumonia and Chenai the Goat has enteritis. Everyone on different antibiotics which complicates things. Kylie has hers in a piece of chicken, Coco's have to be hidden in chocolate biscuits and the goat gets her in mashed butternut. Decided to supplement-feed Frankie the baby goat with a bottle - he will need six feeds a day. Collect a load of hay for the donkeys. Lions refused the beef we offered for dinner. Had to take it all back and defrost pig heads (must buy a bigger microwave). Drama at bedtime - Jack the donkey lost his pyjamas. Caracals ate my slippers, again. Set the alarm for 4am tomorrow - have to get to Shamva to collect someone from the defunct hospital there, take him for treatment in Harare, collect a carcasse on the way back, head back to town to do the restaurant shopping and then do a bird rescue by 9am.

I am never sure what each day will bring but it is seldom that a day starts so badly as the one when a super predator stole my house keys. I woke up just before dawn to the sound of clinking keys and before I could react, Arthur the caracal scrambled out of the window with my house keys in his jaws and disappeared into the darkness. I was locked in my bedroom; all the other keys for the Sanctuary were in my kitchen (including all the vehicle keys), and the security gates into the garden were locked and I had no cell phone signal. By balancing on my dressing table with the hand clutching my cell phone extended out the window I finally managed to get phone access and summoned my long-suffering mother, Sylvia, who just knew it was me before she even heard my shrieking voice. She agreed to bring spare keys but as these needed to be fetched from the other end of Harare I was in for a long wait. Arthur the caracal re-appeared, without the keys, and all three caracals got back into bed with blissful sighs and luxurious stretches of their languid limbs.

Crouching on the bed with knees grimly locked, I fought the desperate urge to utilise the caracals' water dish as a porta-potty (in case my staff mounted a dramatic rescue plan and appeared at the window just as I succumbed to the siren call of nature....) and passed the time imagining whether Arthur's pelt would make a hat and fur cuffs or just a small beside rug. In the meantime the outraged donkeys had gathered at the gate, hooting furiously for their breakfast. The staff joined them and enraged me further by their ill-disguised attempts not to laugh. I now know that it is impossible to display leadership qualities wearing polka-dot pyjamas, yesterday's mascara and a spectacular dispay of bed-head, but, never one to admit defeat I screeched out the window that someone should scale the fence to look for the keys. The smirks on the other side of the fence turned to patent panic as Harry the Caracal oozed past me and out the window, taking up a pointed position on the edge of the verandah, a sibilant hiss his only succinct statement. Twala and Arthur followed, less gracefully as they heaved and shoved their rotund bellies past the burglar bars. So much for that plan. I discovered that rage put further, dangerous pressure on my bladder so I subsided back onto the bed to wait for my mother with my legs in the air. Eventually she arrived and did not help my extreme bad humour by laughing so hysterically at my dishevelled form screeching at her from the window that she couldn't unlock the gate. At last I was freed and as I made a mad dash for the bathroom Arthur nonchalantly flicked the bunch of keys in through the front door.

That morning was almost as bad as the time Harry the caracal fell off the fridge and got his tail stuck in the toaster. The stench of burning fur and scorched bread mingled with his outraged yowls and my screams of panic as black smoke and sparks belched from the toaster. Fortunately, although Harry's dignity was severely dented and my nerves shredded, no permanent damage was done to Harry's tail, but for a very long time afterwards the toast tasted of burnt hair.

Grateful thanks to Amanda Mileson for sending the biggest and most magnificent Furfax yet. We are now on Furfax IV after Furfax III failed to come round from a head transplant. Every couple of weeks our long-suffering cook assembles a pile of mangled fluffy toys, clothes and soft furnishings and attempts to repair the extensive caracal damage inflicted with random savagery upon my possessions. I have now been reduced to metal furniture in an attempt to halt the systematic destruction. After being told by the upholsterer who I have single-handedly kept in business for several years that the couch is finally and irrevocably wrecked, an iron couch is on order. Specifics given to the manufacturer included the absolute necessity that 3 caracals could recline comfortably upon the seat and that it be tooth and claw resistant. As the makers did not know what "caracals" were I fear that they thought I was a little strange. Nothing new there.

Our new Overseas Volunteer, Gina Everson arrived at the end of April. As we drove into the Sanctuary from the airport a crocodile killed a goat on the water's edge so Gina's first and rather disconcerting experience of Africa was the frantic construction of a crocodile trap to catch the interloper. That evening the usual battalions of multi-limbed, gauzy winged insects appeared in her house. At her first sight of a massive Praying Mantis she yelled "Kill it Alice! Kill it!" to our complacently curvaceous tabby cat who simply gazed at her from narrowed eyes that said, "Actually, I'd rather have a chocolate biscuit if it's all the same to you." The following night we had to wake her up in the dead of night to borrow her torch - one of the guards had fallen over a sixteen foot python on the restaurant steps and we needed as much light as possible to catch the snake so we could relocate it to a less populated area. Gina's time at the Sanctuary was populated with adrenaline-charged encounters with creatures that creep and crawl; a casually coiled cobra just a few metres from her house, a massive puff adder sunning itself by the water reservoir, and a surreal ride into Harare on her way to a function at the American Embassy which we insisted on combining with a python release en route. Gina devoted her time to giving our animals and birds the love and care they so desperately need. She took on George, an orphaned and traumatised month old vervet monkey and restored his health and confidence. Our rescue donkeys particularly captured her heart and the donkeys are now wintering in style in the fleecy pyjamas she made for them. Gina also made it possible for us to rescue Jefferson and Jerome, two donkeys in dire straits on a neighbouring farm. Jerome had been so viciously beaten after running away from his owner that he had chunks of flesh flayed from his spine and his old and weary face bore the scars of years of such abuse. We also thank Gina for making repairs to our vehicle possible, for funding the repairs to a deep freezer we use to store predator meat

and for her compassion, empathy and gentle care of so many members of the Sanctuary family.

Our Overseas Volunteer Programme provides a unique and meaningful experience for anyone interested in conservation and animal welfare. Further details can be obtained on our website www.ballyvaughan.co.zw

Of all the rescues we have carried out in the last few months, the case of Madison the rescue dog is the one that haunts us. Madison, a golden labrador, came to us brutally beaten and burnt on her beautiful face and so emaciated that I could fit my entire hand in the eloquent hollow between her shoulder blade and her spine. Too weak to walk, blinded by an eye infection so severe she had actually lost one eye and stinking of her own bodily waste she still maintained a quiet and heart-breaking dignity. As I looked down at the heap of ironically golden fur I thought of how beautiful Madison must have been as a puppy, when she was chosen by the people who condemned her to a life of misery and abuse. This is when we have to ask ourselves the endless question - why? She was owned by people wealthy enough to have gone out of the country on holiday so poverty was not an excuse, nor presumably was ignorance. Madison spent her last day of life surrounded by people who loved and cared for her to the best of their ability and I only hope that she was able to sense this as she took her last small breath in the early hours of the morning and passed on from the hopeless life she had endured. Someone once said "pain is the biggest power of love" - every time we lose an animal, no matter how short their time with us has been, the love that we feel for them causes a pain that doesn't go away.

This week two small boys appeared at our gate with the information that a zebra was being kept captive in a cattle boma on a farm several kilometres away. The zebra was reported to be sick and injured, so once again we set up an emergency rescue; frantic phone calls to put together a team, a hastily built boma to bring the zebra home to, permission from the Parks Authority to carry out the rescue. At first light, with the sharp sparkle of frost on the ground and our breath smoking from our mouths, we set off with a Parks Authority Ranger. The zebra was standing knee deep in manure and mud, with his bony head resting on the back of an old grey donkey, surrounded by cattle. As always, we were soon surrounded by a crowd of people as we explained to the owner of the boma that he could not keep the zebra. Demands for payment were made, as they always are, and as is our policy; we refused. Eventually the Parks Ranger convinced the man that he could not legally sell the zebra and the capture team darted the zebra and moved him out of the filthy quagmire and onto the back of our truck. Heading home we almost lost him as his breathing slowed dramatically but eventually he came round, staggered to his feet and instantly made the acquaintance of Zsa Zsa, our other rescued zebra. We named him Fred, gave him a bucket of mash for breakfast, started him on an antibiotic to treat his injured leg and left him to the slow realisation that he was safe at last. Our thanks to the SAVE Foundation of Australia for covering the costs of caring for Zsa Zsa every year.

Two days ago we took in a magnificent crested eagle. He had no visible injuries but was covered in mud and immobilised from shock. Twenty four hours later he was moving around and eating and he will be released tomorrow, hopefully to find his mate again as they mate for life. Successful rehabilitations and rescues are the immensely rewarding side of our work and making the acquaintance of this fierce, golden-eyed creature was a unique experience.

Meryl Harrison, the woman who rescued so many animals off Zimbabwean farms at the violent height of the land invasions is an inspiration to everyone involved in conservation in this country, and indeed to every Zimbabwean who cares about the plight of our animals. Her story has been told by Cathy Buckle in the book "Innocent Victims" (available from www.merlinunwin.co.uk) and having just read the book, I highly recommend it.

The Bally Vaughan Sanctuary is a refuge for animals who have nowhere else to go. Every week we deal with some situation, usually caused by people, that has deprived an animal of its habitat, its dignity and its future. At the Sanctuary our goal is to rehabilitate these animals, physically and psychologically. We believe that animals thrive on love and affection as well as good food and a secure environment. Where possible, we release animals back into the wild, but sadly in Zimbabwe at the present time, 'the wild' is a place of poachers and snares and indiscriminate hunters, broken food chains and dried out water holes, stolen fences and apocalyptic bush fires, haunted by the ghosts of forests and grasslands and scattered with the bleached bones of our wildlife. So, our family grows and grows and as always we keep stretching time and resources and determination and we keep going, motivated by the contented and well-fed animals around us and by the inspirational support and generosity of our friends.

Where would we be without people like Rodney Beckley who keeps our vehicle on the road and never charges us labour and gives us spares at cost, Kevin the Plumber who arrived at the Sanctuary with a fully loaded truck of donated equipment to solve the endless and disheartening plumbing problems at the Sanctuary, Lesley Duncan and Nicky Gibbs who provided the shade cloth to give all our small animals new winter shelters, Rob Follet-Smith who provides the diesel for our many rescue expeditions, Dr Vinay Ramlaul and Drs Keith Dutlow and Lisa Marabini who provide veterinary care to all our animals, Clare Gover and Julie Tasker of the Australia Zoo who arranged for a huge amount of milk formula, and veterinary goods from Lyppard Australia, to be donated to the Sanctuary, Trevor Fernihough, Emma Robinson and Phil Barclay, Vicky Campion, Catherine Carter, Mark Walker and family, all of whom make monthly donations to animals at the Sanctuary, Mark Harper of Montana Meats, Darryl of Koala Park Abbatoir, Stoff Hawgood of Tavistock Estates, Hannes Cruger of Crugs Chooks, Heather Guild of Valley Fresh, Steve Curle - generous providers of delicious meals for our animals Tina and Thomas Wicke, Sharon Nichols, Mike Trask, Arthur Schultz of A & T Engineering who donated parts for our water pump, Mel Kenchington, Steve Watt, Angus Melrose, Adriano Gorassini and Yo-Africa, WebDev, the Rodrigues Family, Joe Leese, Vera Taylor, Rose and Rogan Maclean, Anne Lowe, George Kille who made it possible for us to feed the large number of plains game we are taking care of in the Enterprise Area, Zimbiz, Mike Kellow who so kindly couriers desperately needed items for the animals from Australia, Ellen Ciampi who took such good care of our baby monkeys, Ian and Lesley Thomson, Mr Roditi, Gordon Grierson of Milborrow Animal Health, Andy and Marguerite Field, Anne Sheerin and Ella and Merill Shoup who support Ngozi the lion, and devoted sponsors of Khan the Leopard - Sophie and Alexandra Bean. As always I am truly privileged to have the support of the Volunteer Team - Sylvia Carter, Dianne Twiggs, Leanne Freele and Carol Hobbs, and without Dr Vinay Ramlaul both the Sanctuary and my life would be so much less.

CONTACT US: 0912 592 942 OR 4 011 601 131 011 214 007 0912 337 037 0912 264 160

sarah ballyvaughansanctuary

With love and thanks

Sarah and the Sanctuary Family

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