One of our neighbours came up to me a few days ago. Is everything fine with Domino, she asked. Of course, I said. He is as demanding as ever when it comes to mealtimes. Later the same day, another neighbour. I saw Domino earlier; he looked a bit strange, she said. He would not let me rub him, as I always do, and when he ran off, there was something different about him. Next day again: Domino is behaving strangely, is he maybe unwell? Then the strangest comment of all, I saw Domino run up the embankment last night, have you not noticed that his missing leg had grown back, we were asked.

Nick Vujicic is an Australian American motivational speaker of Serbian decent. That will explain his surname. He was born with a rare disorder with a name even more complicated than his surname to pronounce. This condition explains why he has no limbs. No arms, and no legs, and only one tiny little foot attached to his torso. I once heard him speak on his disability and how he had to come to terms with it. He said, that as a child, he prayed for a miracle, hoping that he would grow limbs. As he grew older, he came to realise that his childhood prayers were unrealistic, and he made up his mind that since he can not expect the miracle, he could become the miracle. Today, he is very much in demand as a motivational speaker, he has a wife, and four children. He travels all over the world for speaking engagements.

But back to Domino. After all the comments from my neighbours, I then too witnessed which I may have believed to be a miracle. It is a good thing that this happened early in the morning and not later in the day after a gin or two. There Domino was, with his little pink nose, stretched out on the lawn. As I approached, he meowed, as always, rolled over and got up to walk towards me….on FOUR legs. A miracle indeed. So often the past few years I expressed my views on Covid, saying never in my life did I imagine that I would live through a pandemic. And never in my life did I imagine I would witness a miracle, right here in the small village of Botrivier. My mind already had Botrivier on the map as a shrine, a place of pilgrimage, where people will pay any price to experience a miracle themselves. As always, there is an explanation, and sometimes the explanation is as strange as the event.

There is a new resident in our village. The two of us share a name, even if hers is spelled differently. She moved in a few doors down from us, and she has a four legged black and white cat, named Skittle. Apart from the leg, which is a minor detail, Skittle is a complete copy paste of Domino. Part of me was relieved, as it became evident that I had not completely lost my marbles. Neighbours were equally relieved, some of them were starting to doubt their sanity. Domino slept through it all.

Sadly, Botrivier missed its opportunity, for it turned out the miracle then shifted to Betty’s Bay. Monday the Western Cape had its turn to experience severe weather. There is an Afrikaans saying: “Een dag op ‘n reën dag.” It means that on rare occasions, such as a rainy day, the unexpected can happen. And so, on a rainy and wet Monday, Eskom arrived at our mountain, and in one day moved the cable that caused us so much misery these past few months. It is a miracle they arrived. It is a miracle that the work got done in a day, it is a miracle that the rain only came pelting down as they closed the ditch over to bury the cable. An unexpected rainy day in South Africa is indeed a special occasion, as we live in a dry country. Jeremy Mansfield, who I wrote about a few weeks ago, once said that in Africa, we never complain about rain. And so finally, we can move forward with our plans. All it took was 16 meters of cable and a rainy day, and for Eskom to pitch up.

Miracles do come in all shapes and sizes. Turning water into wine is impressive. So is the sandbag bridge that has held for all the months while we waited for Eskom. Commanding the lame to walk gets a good rating, having our three-legged baby so fat and happy is priceless. Parting the Red Sea can get a special mention, but it hardly compares to the very resilient operator taking his digger up a 4-plus meter embankment. Noah did well on the Arc, but watching Colin’s building coming up? The answer would depend on when you ask the question. What I have learnt this year, is to keep my anxiety levels in check. Some days are easy, but that anxiety which creeps up on you at 2 o’clock in the morning, is a bugger. That Anxiety has a conversation with you, along the lines of:

“I think you should wake up. I have something very important for you to worry about. Besides, you need the toilet. Do you think you can get yourself to the toilet tonight without knocking over the butler’s tray? You woke up half the neighbourhood last time. Reluctantly I jerk awake, heart racing. Anxiety then turns up the volume. Now that you are awake, let’s toss and turn a bit, it helps to get the blood pressure a little higher. Come to think of it, lets also have a snack, it will help us worry better. Don’t worry about a bowl and spoon, Anxiety says, we can eat straight from the tub. Maybe you can scroll through your WhatsApp while we worry, just maybe a few of your contacts are also online. Let’s stalk a few of them. That will be fun. OK, Anxiety. I thought we were sitting up at this time of the night eating cold leftovers straight from a bowl so we could bond over important things like delayed brick deliveries, and now you want to watch YouTube videos? Oh.no, Anxiety says, that one is on you. I was ready to go back to bed an hour ago when you started licking out the chocolate mouse tub with your finger. Do not make this my problem…”

Fortunately, there are two of us in this journey, and Colin and I take turns to fret. We also take turns at entertaining and feeding the anxiety monkey, when he comes calling at night. Colin’s monkey doesn’t like leftovers. His monkey prefers biscuits, toffees and reading BBC News. Domino doesn’t mind his humans fretting at night. He enjoys the mid night snack. In fact, on those rare nights when one of his humans do sleep through, he wakes them up. He is, after all, their little reminder that miracles do happen. And he can prove it. The other day, he was walking along the top of the wall, and would you believe it, he looked up, and there he saw himself walking along the wall from the other direction, and when he looked up closely, he had four legs. And he knew it was him, because he had a mole in his mouth.