Exactly 83 weeks ago (yes, that is right. I number them) I set out to write my Cape Crawl. If you go back to my very first ever “chapter”, you will know that I started recording Colin’s and my journey down here. When I say journey, I am not simply referring to the road trip we made down here. You see, we are still journeying. The drive was just the beginning. Every day is still part of our story. At the risk of repeating myself, I will again quote Douglas Adams, in saying: I seldom end up where I wanted to go, but always almost end up where I need to be. I have been doing all this writing, ever so naively thinking that some of my village may be interested in what and where we are.

Turns out not.

Should you read the comments left on this space, you will see most requests are from people wanting to know how is Domino doing? Really? I wear my heart on my sleeve once a week, and you want to know how Domino is. OK, then. Domino it will be this week. But he is only a little cat (4.5kg, according to the vet last week), so he will have to share his space with his other furry brothers, sisters, cousins and adopted members.

As you can well imagine, Domino is not well. He really does have a very hard life looking after his Humans, who do not appreciate him. You will know from last week’s Crawl, that his Humans went gallivanting without him, and left him at that homeless shelter. That very horrible place, where the discerning cat can enjoy all sorts of home comforts. They have even upgraded their facilities, and each cat-suite now has a heated blanket and a heating lamp. They have also extended their menu. Domino (because they were so fully booked) shared a space with a cat called Peri Peri.

We arrived as Peri Peri was tucking into a bowl of steamed tuna flakes. Mr. Peri by then had worked up quite an appetite, having made full use of the cat gym. He had to build up his reserves as he had booked an afternoon session to swipe at the goldfish in the water feature, in fact this kept him occupied for quite a while. Having swiped his stress away, Mr. Peri then strolled along the catwalk, stopping occasionally to get petted by the Humans whose sole purpose is to care for them.

Domino, on the other hand, behaved like a Benedictine Monk on retreat. He isolated himself (by crawling under a chair), he abstained from all and any human or feline contact, and fasted intermittently, broken ever so occasionally by sniffing at the gourmet meals presented to him. By the Monday, when his favourite human (not me, in case you were wondering) pitched to collect him, he was quite mutinous and ready to leave. As Colin opened the cat box, Domino simply darted straight in. No cajoling, no begging and no stuffing him in one limb at a time. He just crawled into his safe space, and if a cat could gently rock himself in the fetal position, then that is what Domino would have done.

Truffle is still living her best life with her forever family. She loves it when her Humans go away, because she gets to stay with her favourite Grand Pawrent. (again- not me in case you were wondering.) This Grand Pawrent feeds her treats, you know the ones she is not allowed at home. She gets to sleep on the bed, which she is not allowed to do at home. Come to think of it, the only thing that has Truffle excited about going home to her own Humans, is the smoked duck heads and dried rabbit ears her Mom buys her. Yup, seriously. It looks and smells as gross as it sounds, but Truffle loves it. She also got quite a few new outfits this winter. Polar Fleece pajamas, and Turtleneck cardigans.

And, before we get to the two-legged feathered friends, there is Oreo. Oreo’s Human Mother is away in Portugal for two weeks, having to do some adults stuff there. Which means that Oreo is home alone with his Human Dad. Now, Oreo – you may recall that he is the chonky one, may only be a little ball of fluff, whose circumference equals his length and height, but he knows only too well how to wrap his human around his toe bean. (Because dogs do not have fingers. They have toe beans.) Oreo is taking full advantage of being home alone with his last remaining Human. They are experiencing a really cold winter, and most evening chats with my son, he and Oreo are in bed doing whatever the boys do, when the Lady of the House is away.

Angel, that is the Jardine parrot, who is supposed to have dark green feathers covering her body, with only jet-black feathers on her cheeks, still resembles a plucked chicken drumstick. Despite her visit to a very fancy bird specialist, her prescribed diet and her de-stressing yet stimulating activities, she still pulls out even the smallest hint of a feather. To keep her warm, her Human made her a special hammock from an old T Shirt, that she can crawl into at night, to keep snug.

And Tam, the hand reared ever so tame cockatiel? Nothing new there. Still madly in love with Angel, who is quite oblivious to his advances. He still bemoans his fate rather loudly at sunrise, and every hour, on the hour there after. He is a very noisy bird. Even with no feathers, Angel is twice the size of Tam. There is a human fetish for that. It is called Adipophilia. Oh! Looking that up left me feeling a bit traumatized. Each to their own, I guess.

Then there is the last Furry Friend. This one, does not belong to us, but has become part of our story. Right you are. It is the faithful, loyal, courageous, affectionate, protective, patient, gentle and intelligent Liefie. (I politely left out that due to her winter coat and too many treats scavenged on site, that her circumference may soon equal Oreo’s.) Liefie still reports for work every morning, along with her Human.

I have to close off with the latest addition. His name is Buddy. Buddy is a farm dog. He belongs to no one, and only goes where he can find a meal.  Most of his meals come from the very skilled gardener on the farm. This Malawian chap often can be seen walking down to the dam, where he catches a fish for him and Buddy to share. By the sounds of things, most nights, Buddy gets the big half of the fish. I have taken to keeping meaty bones for Buddy. He has no home, he has no Human, but that does not worry Buddy. He is always happy.

It made me think. Perhaps we take a page from Buddy’s book.