Rest in peace, little Bo

Little Bo, always the runt, but with so much spirit
She had my heart from the start

And so it ends – the Guinea Fowl Chronicles, which started back in October 2008 when little Bo Peep and her family arrived in our garden.

You’ve taken the journey with me, watched over little Ms Bo and applauded her spirit and determination to survive. You’ve fretted with me when she was ill, cheered as she grew. I believe she found a place in all your hearts.

And now she is gone.

Ms Bo's family
October 2008

Ms Bo, waiting for her handout of maggots

You’ll recall that in the post I did before going on holiday, I said that Ms Bo had been seen in the garden again. She came back almost daily with the Ba-Kaaka Nostra – but she was never really part of them.

In the garden in May, free at last

Keeping company with the usual suspects

As the winter settled in bringing cold, driving rain so the guinea fowl became more aggressive about feeding. Bo, because she hadn’t been able to integrate with the flock, found it increasingly difficult to feed. I’d put food out separately for her, but as soon as she started to eat one of the males would chase her away. Two weeks ago, it struck me that she’d lost body mass.

She started to stay in the garden, keeping clear of the Ba-Kaaka Nostra and other flocks that come here to feed. She’d feed when she could, with me standing guard a few meters away, then she’d lie in the sun, trying to keep warm. But it soon became obvious that not only was she losing weight, she was also ill. She was increasingly hunched, cold and listless and she clearly had a gut problem. She took to lying around in the sun, barely eating.

I found some darkling beetles and enticed her to eat. But the food wasn’t enough with bitter cold of the night. Last Wednesday I managed to catch her – and that was a bad sign. She was feathers and bone – her body mass all gone, the strength she’d had when she’d escaped and left here, wittled away to nothing. She didn’t even struggle.

I brought her inside and popped her in the big dog traveling cage. Her eyes dulled almost immediately. You could see her thinking, “Oh no, not this again, not caged.”

We kept her warm and fed her on mealworms and grain – but she really wasn’t terribly interested. I cleaned her beak for her because she was too lethargic to do so herself. She slept for most of Thursday. On Friday I took her to the avian vet.

“I’ll do what I can,” said the vet, “we’ll give her a chance. I’ll incubate her, give her antibiotics and vitamins. I’ll deworm her and crop feed her if necessary. I’ll give her the best care I can. And I’ll call you on Sunday evening.”

She called me on Monday morning. Ms Bo had died a few hours before. She’d perked up on Saturday the vet said, gone down again on Sunday. The vet was going to ask to keep her a few days longer. But Ms Bo took the decision for herself – and for her, it was probably the right one.

She never wanted to be a pet or a domesticated guinea fowl but likewise, she couldn’t survive on her own in the surburban “wild”. So she left and went home.

Ms Bo is buried in the herb garden, under the asparagus fern were she used to sleep with her mother when she was a tiny keet. There’s a hole in our hearts and the garden seems an emptier place without her. But she had her moments of contentment, her culinary delights and a taste of freedom.

“Think,” said D, “She was able to roost in the gum tree and watch the sun rise. What a thrill that must have been for her.”

Rest in peace, little Bo.

Ms Bo - last Wednesday October 2008 - 15 June 2009

BAHB! Birthday, Award, Holiday, Bo!

So, a slightly rushed post this on the eve of getting yet another year older, a tiny bit greyer and a wee bit more wrinkly... Just a couple of years off my half century and starting to feel like a serious cricket score… Of course, all this only matters if you actually believe in time – which I don’t, unless it’s to compare it with lumpy custard – but that’s another story entirely! As far as I'm concerned I'm still as much of a kid as I was at 12! Well, okay, maybe not quite 12...


So all sorts of bits and pieces in this post, given I’m off on Tuesday to more northern climes. Which means the old blog will be having a bit of a holiday - since I’ve no intention of posting while I’m away. But, that said, I will be back and hopefully with lots of piccies, including some of blogging buddies and writer friends. Yep, that will be one of the coolest parts of my trip – meeting up with old and new friends – so, so, so looking forward to it. See you soon, guys!


And then, perhaps the best news possible… Ms Bo appeared in the garden this morning – with a beau – the saucy minx. She’s grown considerably and looks like a really strong young bird – mind you with that head start of maggots and mealworms she’s had a good base to build from. She looks almost full sized now but is still very neurotic. She doesn’t seem to be part of a big group yet but appeared to be on the fringes, possibly, of the Ba-Kaaka Nostra – who were chasing her something rotten. Still, she’s been away from us for two weeks and is clearly fending just fine for herself. I’m really hoping that now she knows there is always food here, she’ll come back a little more often.


It really was so amazing to see her and we both recognized her instantly – there was just something about the bird on the lawn – and then a closer look showed us her white claws and that confirmed it. As was the fact that she took off when I called her by name. Yep, Ms Bo ain’t having anything to do with being a domesticated bird! And you know what? Good for her, I say.

And finally, to leave you with a little something while I’m away... Carol from Not Only in Thailand very kindly bestowed upon me the Kreativ Blogger award. And this time I’m going to break my rules and actually pass this one on.


The rules say I have to list seven things that I love… Only seven? That seems totally unreasonable. Oh well, here goes…

My beloved D – my very best friend and my home.
Friends, including the furry and feathered ones in the garden – they are the bubbles in the champagne of life.
Writing – even when I’m dozing I’m writing stories, non-fiction or potential blog posts in my head.
Reflecting – I’m a ponderer and a wonderer frequently considering awakening and awareness.
Photography – seeing the world through the lens of a camera is to see the world in an entirely different way. And it’s incredibly healing.
Reading – there’s an adventure in every book, irrespective of the nature of the book.
Cooking – my paternal great-grandmother was a cook, my maternal grandfather was a chef – what can I say, it’s in the blood and I find it creative, fulfilling and wholesome fun.

And this time I’m going to break my rules and actually pass this one on to some particularly creative souls:

RL Bourges of Ici, Graulhet

Lettuce of Lettuce Eating

Val of Monkeys on the Roof

Tessa of An Aerial Armadillo

Rick of Kyklops (yes, honey, you for those great photos)

Pat from Write Up the Hill

Jane of Wittering On

Baino of Baino’s Banter

Lola of Aglio, Olio & Peeroncino and,

Vesper of Chick with a Quill

So, there you go, until I see you in a few weeks time, take care, have fun, live abundantly, soar high and be blessed in all that you do.

Goodbye, Ms Bo

Ms Bo on her "inside" perch

It's not how we'd planned it and it's not how we expected it to happen. But nature takes her own course in these things and I'm trying to be pragmatic about it - despite a sleepless, fretful night.

Yes, the inevitable has happened - Ms Bo has escaped, never to be seen again, I suspect.

Strangely, we've been saying for the last two weeks that it's probably time for us to seriously consider setting her free - that was, after all, always the intention. We were hoping to take her to the avian vet on Saturday for a check up and a final verdict on her state of well being and then we were going to open the door to her pen, one day when the Ba-Kaaka Nostra were present, and let her go.

Bo and the Ba-Kaaka Nostra a couple of weeks ago

The reality is that we could never have kept Ms Bo - she was wild from the start and intended to stay that way - a fact that became deeply apparent a couple of months back when we had painters at the house. Although they denied it, we think one of them terrorised her because since then Ms Bo's attitude to humans was one of utter panic. Guinea fowl are neurotic at the best of times, but Ms Bo took to working herself into a frenzy anytime anyone came remotely near Le Palais de Beau Bo - and she took to hiding out in the "hutch" we built on to the back of her house when anyone got to close. Once in there though she obviously felt safe, as she'd suffer having her back stroked by me on occasions and seemed to enjoy being crooned at and told she was a beautiful girl who'd grow up to be queen of all the guinea fowl...
.

Bo's first villa - Bo Vers 0.1

And although the avian vet had suggested that we could keep Bo as a pet, both we and Bo knew that Bo was a wild thing. So, as I say, the intention remained to find a suitable time, when we thought she was strong enough, and release her. But so much for the best laid plans.

Yesterday evening D took Bo her worms and for some reason didn't shut the door of the pen behind him. Although he usually shuts the door behind him, it's not necessarily a problem if he doesn't as Bo doesn't tend to make bids to escape. But this time, as he leaned underneath her to drop her mealworms in the scratching tray, she eyed the open door, whizzed over his head and was out. There was no thought of even trying to catch her - it would have been hopeless. We hoped that if we left her, she'd find herself a spot for the night, settle down and reappear in the morning. (Very often guinea fowl that have been raised by humans and then set free will be quite content to never leave the sanctuary of their garden.)

We watched nervously as Bo pootled around the garden for a few minutes - and then eyed the wall - the one over which the Ba-Kaaka Nostra fly every day. Bear in mind Ms Bo has not had much exercise at flying any great heights, but she stood there contemplating the wall and then in a flurry of wings was up and gone.

At first we thought she'd gone straight over the wall until frantic searches in the road revealed nothing - and then I spotted her shuffling on a thick gum branch some ten feet above the ground. She seemed to be settling in for the night so we left her to it. It was nearly dark and there was nothing we could do. We left the door of her pen open, put out plenty of seed and hoped for the best.

This morning there was no sign of her and although the Ba-Kaaka Nostra turned up for breakfast and although there was a juvenile guinea fowl that flew down from the very top of the tallest gum to join them, and although we hoped that it was Bo, closer inspection of the photos I shot (for confirmation) show that it was most likely not her.

Juvenile guinea fowl, almost certainly not Bo

Bo has four distinctions about her - she has two white claws, a badly damaged left nostril from constantly banging it against the wire of the pen, a deformed breast bone and very rasping voice. But she'd need to call out or one would need to get really close to be able to identify her. And the bird above's face just isn't Ms Bo's - as much as we wanted it to be.

So, we have no idea where she is and we can only hope that she will be okay. Whether she will survive or not out there on her own, who knows - but I'm not holding my breath. Her best bet would be to integrate with another group of guinea fowl - a lone guinea doesn't stand much chance - and bear in mind that Bo has never been out of our garden - has no experience of dogs and cats, let alone cars. We can only know that we did our best for her and that without us she would never have got this far. And as D says, better one day free as a lion than a lifetime penned up as a sheep. So here's hoping that whatever freedom Ms Bo is enjoying or did enjoy, it's good.

Finally the story that started here with this wee and ailing guinea fowl keet...

Bo Peep, an abandoned guinea keet, unable to fledge

Bo Peep, rescued and learning to leap

Ms Bo, munching on a snail

Ooh, bugs, yum!

...ends here with these shots taken just two days ago.

Ms Bo, a nearly fully grown guinea fowl

I'm glad I had the chance to give her one last stroke yesterday and tell her what a beautiful girl she is.

Be safe, be wild and be free, Ms Bo.

Autumn days, and... Do you remember Ms Bo?

There’s a distinct and very chilly nip in the air as though the ice goblins are out there, ready to nibble off your toesies and fingies and nosies and the tips of your ears. It does not bode well. I think, despite the fact that the sky is blue and the sun is shining, we’re in for a bitterly cold winter. The Australian Cherry tree has blossomed, messily, three times so far. It is now so heavy with cherries that I’ve had to lop off branches that were hanging down into the driveway.

An abundance of pink

There is a dense sludge of cherries all over the driveway and the garden (we have three Australian Cherry trees). The last time the trees fruited prolifically it snowed on Table Mountain – which is pretty unheard of. This time there are even more cherries. The garden critters seem to know something too. We’re getting something like 30 guinea fowl turning up for food every morning. That usually only happens in deep midwinter. I think they’re storing up. The squirrels certainly are. They’re even burying grapes…

Young squirrel getting the hang of "gardening"...

They’ve bred in hordes this year, throughout the season and there are still nursing mothers out there.

Mama Squirrel - one of many...

There are even a few less welcome visitors out there pretending to be harvest mice…

Rat tales

Everything is gathering and stockpiling for winter. I’ve never seen activity quite like it. Even the predators are more prolific and determined than ever.

Juvenile gymogene in the gum tree- I'd never seen one before...

African Goshawk - now a regular - and very determined - visitor

The Silhouetted Hunt
- goshawk chasing the doves -

There are even trees and shrubs in the garden that are bearing berries and fruits that I’ve never seen bear anything other than leaves before. I might well find that I have to go into hibernation - and knit Ms Bo a woolly scarf…

And talking of Ms Bo…

You may well remember there once was a very small and abandoned baby guinea chick who looked like this…

Ms Bo shortly after we took her in...

Well, today Ms Bo is doing just fine, thank you.

Ms Bo, this morning...

She’s grown beautifully and is about three quarters of the way to being full size. For her age, she is still undersized, but on a good diet of mealworms – we’ve found a pet shop on the other side of town that sells them in large tubs of wriggliness – she’s done well. Her love-hate relationship with us persists. Going near her cage is enough to send all of us into a frenzy of nerves – she, as she beats herself against the sides of the pen, us as we worry about the damage she’ll do herself. The other day she manage to break the tip of her beak in one of her hysterical lathers. Not that it stopped her from snarfing the worms we had brought – once she was sure we were far enough away. The strange thing is that if she gets into the covered part of her “house”, she’s perfectly happy, once she’s done hissing, to be stroked into a gentle slumber.

Ms Bo and Friends

For the most part, she’s not short of company. For the last week there’ve been something like thirty guinea fowl – including the ever-present Ba-kaaka Nostra, hanging around in the garden. And that means the lawn looks like all hell where it’s been scratched over, dug up and had roosting holes planted in it. I suppose it is, at least, well fertilized… We’re hoping in the next month or so to be able to release Ms Bo – into the company of the Ba-Kaaka – but that will depend on what the avian vet thinks.

Ms Bo's new Beau - he's a bit of a silly bird, this one...
(Note the parental disapproval...)

The Ba-Kaaka Nostra - destroying the lawn, again...

Furious Scribbling... Angela and Bo

Click to enlarge and see the detail...

Scribble, scribble, scribble, tap-tap, tappity-tappity, tap.

Yes, things are a little goal directed around here at the moment, but the good news is that the writing is going blisteringly well.

See, here’s the thing, towards the end of last year, I bit the bullet, trashed my piggy bank and sent my YA paranormal manuscript (MS) to a well-known writing agency in London to get an in-depth manuscript review. They came back with 18 pages of what didn’t work. Aaaargh! It was gutting, especially since so many of my writing and critique partners had said they really liked the story pretty much as it was. It took me a while to get over the filleting and to get my head around what the agency was saying without getting into a lather about it. I took their advice and just let the report and MS be until I felt ready to start working on the MS again. And now I am ready and boy how ready.

I’ve started the rewrite from scratch – in other words, although I have the original draft at my side, the writing has all begun again – which means that amongst other things, I’ve so far cut out more than half of what I originally had and I’m sure much more will go.

I think this is one of the most difficult things for writers, especially new writers – taking a hatchet to your work. It’s far easier just to tweak and twiddle than be really aggressive about it. Of course, those who know all say “don’t be afraid to take a knife to your work” but it’s easier said than done, after all, these words, the story they produce are your babies. Hours and months of writing went into creating them and now here you go shredding them.

The upside though is that what I now have is vastly improved – the story is tighter, the pacing is better, the whole thing more dynamic. My main character’s voice has changed, she’s become less introspective and thereby I do less “telling” and a lot more “showing” which keeps the story more vivid.

So the upshot is that while I was in a complete state about the writing agency’s report when I first received it, I can now see, despite my mutterings at the time, how spot on it actually was.

I should add, I’ve also had a fine time doing mountains of research, which I’ve just loved.



In other news – an update on Angela.

Her interview with my friend Tania – whose Dreamworker website is now up – went really well and they were delighted with each other. Angela worked her last day for me this past Wednesday and once she’s had her baby and is ready to work again, Tania will help her find a job that takes her well away from the clutches of “Mistress Pecksniff”. On that score, both Angela and I have the sneaky suspicion that Pecksniff’s business is in dire trouble. For one, staff members are leaving in droves as reality hits home. For another, clients are also leaving. In addition, Pecksniff has been unable to pay her staff, and has had to get her mother, who started and runs the Johannesburg branch, to come to CT to bail her out – including paying the staff. Perhaps it’s a case of what goes around comes around.

As someone once said to me, all you need is a tiny light to chase away the darkness.



And as for all things guinea fowl… Ms Bo is thriving and growing and has reached the stage where she’s looking decidedly vulturine – she’s lost her face and neck feathers, she’s growing her comb and wattles and her face is starting to turn blue. She’s still undersized but that’s just the way she is – she’ll probably never be as big as a normal guinea fowl, but she should get to at least three-quarter size. We’re still hoping that when she’s big enough not to be at too much risk from the local predators that we’ll be able to release her into the care of the Ba-Kaaka Nostra who visit her daily.

Ba-kaaka Nostra, on patrol...

Right, now back to the rewrite!

The Guinea Fowl Chronicles: Here we go - AGAIN!!!

Ms Bo - whaddayamean, there are no more worms?!

I had nothing to do with it this time, honest, I didn’t. I was playing in the digital darkroom when I heard the garage door swing open. I expected D to come walking in but when he didn’t, I went out to investigate.
What greeted me was the sight of D standing in the driveway, his hands in his hair, muttering.
“They followed me in, I couldn’t stop them.” His words were accompanied by lots of small meeping sounds.
“They were waiting for me,” he said, shaking his head, “I swear they were. I opened the gate, drove in and as I was about to close the gate, there they all were, walking in.”
“Open the gate again,” I said, “And let’s see if they’ll all walk out.”
D opened the gate. Mama Guinea gave him a long look, peered out into the road, turned tail and headed up the driveway, trailed by peeps.
Well, what can I say, we have fluffball blessings again. 13 of them when they arrived but I’m not going to try and keep count this time, it’s just too stressful.
They are tiny, smaller, I swear, than when Bo and her family first arrived back in October, and some are still quite wobbly on their little pins.
So here we go again – exit a neat and tidy garden, enter loads of pooh and scratched up soil all over the paving. Goodbye garden service, hello stress and mayhem. Ho and hum.
And for those of you cooing and laughing right now, I say “humph!” - may the bluebird of happiness fly overhead and do just what flying bluebirds do. I swear if I could but find the sign that says, “Guinea Fowl Sanctuary and Orphanage – All Welcome”, I’d pull it down. I’d put up one that says, “Inn Full, innkeepers knackered – try next door”.
Bo is beside herself with all the new life – behaving like a maiden aunt on speed. Who knows where it will all end. At least I can say, by way of an update on Missy Bo, that she’s growing, her wings are getting stronger and she’s pigging out on D’s cultivar of maggots and mealworms.

I leave you with pictures to tell the rest of the story.

Small peeps arrive in the driveway...

Portrait of a Guinea keet...

Guineas find their way into the garden...

Wha'!? Oh no! Not more!

Guineas, en famille...

Ms Bo looks on

Il Madonna del giardino - Mother and Child

The Menagerie...