What to do with this monkey?
I have lived on a monkey trail for over twenty years. The Howlers travel down from the hills towards the beach. Swinging and climbing. They travel. Daily sojourners. Feasting on the lush abundant leaves of the disappearing jungle. My habitat is their habitat. The tribe moves together. They have a system. Mamas carry babies on their backs. Papas hang back and watch. They are much bigger. Their eyes dart. Perched precariously until all have crossed safely.
They make noise across my roof tops. The last tree on their trail – lines up with a small cottage we put together. We call it the bird house. They scamper. I know they are there. Then to the mango. The tree that gives us fruit and shade. It saves us from the blistering April sun. The mango is the monkey’s favorite tree.
They cross another roof and then an electrical wire. Then they are gone. Every morning is ritual. They return in the afternoon.
Today, Mary, my amiga, alerted me. I thought she was going to show me a toucan. They have been coming back around. But no, it was a baby monkey. By itself. It was peering out from the bushes. I knew it was in trouble. Where is the rest of the gang. We stared at each other. The baby in a panic. It darted into Mary’s house.
Oh no, there’s a dog in there. Dogs and monkeys are natural enemies. Fala, the non-watching, watch dog, never bothered to wake up. She was probably lost in a good dream. Suenos.
Rooster caught the little feller in a fish net and took him around to our mango. He or she, didn’t want to move. It didn’t seem to have energy. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called for help.
We were relayed to the monkey expert in Brasilito. Also a person who rescues was informed of the orphan on our property.
We learned a lot in the next hour. The babies’ mother had been electrocuted down at the other end of the block. It had probably been on her back at the time. Can you imagine?
Poor thing. It had somehow made its way to the trail.
After we put it in the mango. It crossed the street – south – to the mango match and began to bark. I went inside. There was nothing I could do. When I came back out it was once again in our mango. It moved once again to yet another mango. It barked loud.
I was looking up to locate the baby. A buzzard flew into a Guanacaste tree and rested. Oh No!
Then came another buzzard.
Then the jungle went silent.
I feel the weight of nature. The baby that would have no milk. Lost and screaming for help. Only to be answered by predators.
I know more about monkeys now.
Fish Eye Farm 