Out Of The Rut – Kat Dancer – Jul 2022

Jousting cartoon guinea pigs. I am currently caring for a bunch of dogs, including a pair of puppies barely 6 weeks old. They are so tiny, fluffy and directionally challenged, when they have boisterous moments they resemble nothing so much as a couple of rosette guinea pigs having a good old set-to. It makes me smile.

The mum does a great job of sitting, impressively statuesque, with a couple of squirming fuzzy piglets draped across her extremities. Yesterday she consented to lie for at least half an hour atop a cushioned table to be groomed, enjoying a clear view of her offspring, yet comfortably out of reach of joyfully exploratory claws, teeth and tongues.

In the next room, someone resembling a cross between a teddy bear and a friendly lion rambles around, occasionally tumbling into things as he contorts his rather cubic frame into an effective scratching position.

A little further again, another small person frequently practices an upright stance with forelegs pedalling through the bars of the barrier gate. She is waving for attention and drops to the ground as soon as I come close and lean down to give her the contact she craves.

All of them, even the nascent ones, urgently desire close contact. A lean against a leg, or the slight weight of a hand on a head, even the mere sight of a body in the same room can be sufficient to switch canine energy from alert to soft.

When I step in with the smallest people they stumble and tumble, falling over – mostly themselves – and tweak the edges of my toes and feet in fascination. The boy is almost twice the size of the girl, but in a mere 48 hours she has taken to eating with gusto, rapidly gaining weight and strength. She can hold her own now. There were a couple of times when an over-enthusiastic game became a scream for release and I extricated her tiny body from the puppy mêlée, but now she can squirm out of his deathly vice grip and turns and gives her brother what for.

Stereotypical male/female traits seem to bubble out of these two. Before I’d even got close enough to check, it was clear the larger of the two was tougher; careering around, bouncing off things with total nonchalance, picking stuff up, pulling and chewing and exploring as many sensations as possible. In contrast, the smaller one appeared finer, less clumsy, although uncoordinated as yet and lacking power, but way more vocal and inquisitive although less bombastic about it all.

It is fascinating watching the evolution of these tiny people in such accelerated fashion. Kids and babies change and grow at an astonishing rate, a puppy grows in a week the equivalent amount of evolutionary time that in a human takes a couple of months or more. I grumble about being in the city, but the privilege of observations like these has its own rewards. And then there’s the rain.

The rain is currently falling as though gravity woke up this morning and had an extra shot of wheatgrass, before a double-strength vitality smoothie packed with superfoods, antioxidants, immunity- boosters and longevity-elixirs, followed by a straight shot of ginger to really kick things off. It’s coming down in sheets, frequently at odd angles. And here, in the city, a mere fraction of what Bragg is being blessed with, you lucky water-babies, you.

Fingers crossed all those sump pumps out there were/are doing a sterling job.

May this water-fall be an abundance of growing blessings that bring forth crops, make homes for the water people, clean and clear the waterways and flow gently across the paths of those who tread the land. We are blessed to be in this beautiful oasis.