today a little past noon the neighbor's dog snagged a monkey that was stuffing his mouth with eggplant. the monkey had quite the courage to be so far from the safety of trees. the neighbor's dog had been alert all morning due to the constant monkey raiding. when the dog spotted the monkey, it ran after it. in an attempt to escape, the monkey ran into the fence instead of the trees it came from, and the dog got it.
first i heard yelling, and when i looked i was shocked. there was a big male monkey in the jaws of the dog. by no means is this a reflection of the farm, or of the dog. the dog was acting out of pure instinct and nobody was encouraging him. in fact, sahadevan was beating the dog with a towel to release the monkey. unfortunately, the dog would not give up the monkey.
other people began to try and rescue the monkey. at one point somebody was trying to pull the animal from the dog by his tail. sahadevan got a rope around the monkey, threw the towel over the dog's eyes, and freed the monkey.
the monkey was pulled by rope to the shade, grabbing onto anything he could, thinking that he was going to be eaten by yet another animal. as the monkey sat panting in the shade, we brought him a banana and some water. the monkey pushed himself into a sitting position and looked up at the five of us who were trying to keep our distance but help at the same time.
the monkey looked uninjured. there was no blood and were no puncture wounds from the dog. he simply sat looking up at us. we slid a bowl of water over to him, but he did not drink. his cheeks were stuffed with eggplant. we began to toss some water on him to cool him off and let him drink. he opened his mouth to catch the water. some he would swallow, the rest would wash soil out of his mouth through his decaying teeth.
he continued to pant and breathe with difficulty. i kept thinking a lung was punctured, but there was no puncture at all. we all kept trying to figure out what was wrong; he would just sit and stare up at us with an expression that was not of pain, but of fear transitioning into curiosity, and then to understanding we were not going to hurt him. this led to acceptance. a monkey's face expresses emotions just as ours do. it was strange; it seemed human, but not at all, in the same moment.
the monkey crawled to some grass, laid down, and stopped breathing. he had died from shock, first shook up by a dog, then dragged away by humans. we did the absolute best we could, and yet again may i express this reflects nothing on the farm. it has never happened before, and all efforts were toward the most humane treatment of the dog and the monkey.
i knew he was dead when he stopped breathing. others thought at first that he was playing dead, but i watched him die; that five minute transition in his eyes from terror to peace made it so clear what was to come next. i would like to say that he did not die in agony, for he had no wounds, but internally the dog may have crushed some vital functions.
i will think about many things differently now. as i go over and over the intentions of every being during those 45 minutes and see nothing done wrong, i begin to wonder why we live like we are guaranteed to live so long. we buried him in the field, at the end of an empty bed. during the burial, we noticed he had several puncture wounds on the side of his chest.
first i heard yelling, and when i looked i was shocked. there was a big male monkey in the jaws of the dog. by no means is this a reflection of the farm, or of the dog. the dog was acting out of pure instinct and nobody was encouraging him. in fact, sahadevan was beating the dog with a towel to release the monkey. unfortunately, the dog would not give up the monkey.
other people began to try and rescue the monkey. at one point somebody was trying to pull the animal from the dog by his tail. sahadevan got a rope around the monkey, threw the towel over the dog's eyes, and freed the monkey.
the monkey was pulled by rope to the shade, grabbing onto anything he could, thinking that he was going to be eaten by yet another animal. as the monkey sat panting in the shade, we brought him a banana and some water. the monkey pushed himself into a sitting position and looked up at the five of us who were trying to keep our distance but help at the same time.
the monkey looked uninjured. there was no blood and were no puncture wounds from the dog. he simply sat looking up at us. we slid a bowl of water over to him, but he did not drink. his cheeks were stuffed with eggplant. we began to toss some water on him to cool him off and let him drink. he opened his mouth to catch the water. some he would swallow, the rest would wash soil out of his mouth through his decaying teeth.
he continued to pant and breathe with difficulty. i kept thinking a lung was punctured, but there was no puncture at all. we all kept trying to figure out what was wrong; he would just sit and stare up at us with an expression that was not of pain, but of fear transitioning into curiosity, and then to understanding we were not going to hurt him. this led to acceptance. a monkey's face expresses emotions just as ours do. it was strange; it seemed human, but not at all, in the same moment.
the monkey crawled to some grass, laid down, and stopped breathing. he had died from shock, first shook up by a dog, then dragged away by humans. we did the absolute best we could, and yet again may i express this reflects nothing on the farm. it has never happened before, and all efforts were toward the most humane treatment of the dog and the monkey.
i knew he was dead when he stopped breathing. others thought at first that he was playing dead, but i watched him die; that five minute transition in his eyes from terror to peace made it so clear what was to come next. i would like to say that he did not die in agony, for he had no wounds, but internally the dog may have crushed some vital functions.
i will think about many things differently now. as i go over and over the intentions of every being during those 45 minutes and see nothing done wrong, i begin to wonder why we live like we are guaranteed to live so long. we buried him in the field, at the end of an empty bed. during the burial, we noticed he had several puncture wounds on the side of his chest.
this is such a terribly sad story. i am so sad about that monkey. please tell zoë to take a photo of the lizard she told me about. and will you guys try to get a photo of a (live) monkey?
ReplyDelete:( this is sad
ReplyDeleteNobody here will forget that monkey either, Max. This is a story of a sad happening that was handled well but still ended badly. You tell it clearly and thought provokingly.
ReplyDelete