2. teething problems

Taking on a new ‘baby’ in the form of a game sanctuary tends to expose one to unexpected perils…..

Along with Milimani, we inherited six adult crocodiles. Having been a city dweller before this experience, the thought of being responsible for something that was desperately in need of repackaging and marketing, with a mouth that houses the most awesome-looking teeth, was rather daunting.

But crocodiles are pretty low maintenance, especially during the winter, at which time they don’t even flinch when you throw R7-a-kilo meat at them. At this time of year it’s even safe to fetch the meat back for use on a day when they might be more receptive. But this decision has to be made with care as deception is one of the croc’s key qualities.

During the early days of summer, mating takes place – a boisterous and often quite dangerous affair. By early December, eggs are laid up to 30cm deep in sand nests. As this was our first year of breeding, we decided to send the eggs to Durban to be incubated and hatched. We persuaded a croc breeder to come and take the eggs, more for the entertainment value of watching him dodge snapping jaws than anything else.

The eggs went off along our bumpy road and in early February it was announced that I had finally become a ‘gogo ngwenya’ or granny crocodile. Which of course made my mother ‘great-gogo-ngwenya’. As grandchildren are lacking in our family, my mother has no option but to become excited about such titles.

Three weeks later we took delivery of 12 of the babies, which were rudely referred to as ‘geckos’ by the breeder. He had never seen such small crocs. They probably were geckos and I was none the wiser. Being novices at this whole game, we lovingly settled them into their new home with its specially built pool, in a cage to stop any raptors from having them for lunch. Little did we know that these little critters are the Houdini’s in the business and within three days four had gone AWOL. Work was stopped and the staff were sent on a hunt, but the crocs/ geckos were never found. They will probably reappear at the front door in five years’ time, three metres long and with an attitude that will keep us indoors for life.

As part of the hatching deal, we’d decided to take four larger crocs, as their survival rate is higher. I went down to Durban on a shopping spree and collected the new additions on the way home. The crocs were presented to me in a flimsy, 20cm deep polystyrene box. Having frequently embarrassed myself by my lack of knowledge, I meekly asked if the box would be strong enough. “Of course it is,” came the reply, followed by a smirk that I will never trust again.

The four-hour journey home was uneventful – until we reached the dirt road. The inability of my small car to cope with the corrugations unsettled my travelling companions. I heard a rustle in the back and stretched to make sure the lid was still on the box. All seemed fine. Five minutes later I looked down to see a 500mm croc at my feet heading for the pedals. Yanking up the handbrake and my feet, I had a long and meaningful discussion with this very unresponsive crocodile. Eventually I persuaded it that it was going to a good home, that I’d saved it from becoming a handbag, that it would see sunshine for the first time, food and room service were provided and all bugs were free. We reached a level of trust and I gingerly drove home with a croc under my knees.

The next trick was to persuade someone to get it and me out of the car. We called our manager, whose job portfolio is to handle dangerous animals, including my husband and myself.

To this day, I swear he winks at me every time I feed him.

Published in Country Life, February 2002

Other blogs by Lois Kuhle:

SMOKE RINGS IN CUBA. A TWO WEEK JOURNEY FILLED WITH SALSA, SUNSHINE AND SILLY PEOPLE: http://smokeringsincuba.blogspot.com/2013/10/smoke-rings-in-cuba-journey-filled-with.html

COOL THOUGHTS. MUSINGS AND OTHER MAD MOMENTS:  http://loiskuhlethoughts.blogspot.com/2013/12/we-have-pending-nuptials.html