Mike Hardwich - The Lion and the Lamb: Memoirs of a Vet

THE lion AND THE lamb

Memoirs of a Vet

MIKE HARDWICH

First published by Vanguard Press, an imprint of Pegasus Elliot MacKenzie Publishers Ltd, 2012

This edition published by Tracey McDonald Publishers 2013

Office: 5 Quelea Street, Fourways, Johannesburg, South Africa, 2191

www.traceymcdonaldpublishers.com

Copyright Mike Hardwich 2013

Illustrations Shirley Thurbon

All rights reserved

The moral right of the author has been asserted

ISBN 978-0-9922137-0-1

e-ISBN (PDF) 978-0-9922137-2-5

e-ISBN (ePUB) 978-0-9922137-1-8

Text design and typesetting by Rene Naud

Cover design by Rene Naud

Printed and bound by Pinetown Printers (Pty) Ltd

Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publishers prior consent in any form of binding other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

This book is dedicated to the late

Keith

A friend in a million and a very brave man

Keith Huntley Ferreira died at the age of sixty-five from motor neuron disease, possibly one of the worst ways to die. The muscles of the body slowly fail which eventually makes breathing difficult and the victim drowns in his own body fluids.

Keith never complained of his debilitating condition and was always happy and fun to be with. In his younger days he was a party animal of note.

He worked on a dairy farm nearby but had been brought up in the Transvaal (now Gauteng) and spoke no Zulu a substantial disadvantage for a KwaZulu-Natal farmer. He therefore made an effort to learn the language.

I was called to his dairy one afternoon and there in the milking parlour was Keith and a few of his workers. He was unaware of my presence and in his fluent Zulu yelled to one of his helpers:

Ho John, wena causa ma bloomin problem!

Keith you have now causa me a problem; I have lost my friend of forty years and the void you left can never be filled. Fishing on the ledges of the Transkei coast will never be the same without you.

Rest in peace, my dear friend.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mike Hardwich is a dedicated vet who has worked with wild and domesticated animals for over thirty-nine years. He assists whenever the need arises and has an extraordinary rapport with all living things. This is perhaps best summed up by the late Sam Ngwena, who spent forty years in all working for various vets as an assistant and the last six of his life working for Mike:

Mike is a white South African who understands animals like no other. His spirit calms them; he knows no fear and never panics. He makes our really difficult work seem easy. We seldom have to restrain a patient; there is a calming spirit in our practice because of him.

Mike has been married to Judy for forty-two years and they have three married daughters and seven grandchildren. The family home is on a farm in the beautiful Tala Valley of KwaZulu-Natal.

Read Mikes blog on www.mike-hardwich.co.za

Like Mikes Facebook page www.facebook.com/ MikeHardwichAuthor

Follow Mike on Twitter www.twitter.com/MikeHardwich

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To all the animals I have had the privilege of treating and their owners who put their trust in me.

Toby, for a wonderful friendship that has strengthened over the years and for allowing me the freedom to practise my profession in the way I believed best.

To Jim, who has a unique rapport with animals and understands them so well. He is a streetwise, positive, caring and genuine individual. If I am ever in trouble he is the friend I would choose to have with me.

Alison, Joanne with her formidable red pen, Helen, Glyn and Peter. Their help and constructive criticism has been invaluable.

To Shirley, for the beautiful drawings which are all original.

And to Cathy who pulled this manuscript out of a dusty drawer where it had lain for twenty years and edited it with such dedication, purpose and understanding. I hope her long hours, perfectionism and sleepless nights will bring her satisfaction and appreciation from all who read this book.

Judy, Shannon, Dale and Neulah my long-suffering family, who endured my long working hours, few free weekends and even fewer holidays. I hope they enjoyed the interaction with the animals as much as I did.

Finally, to my long-deceased parents Kay and Lawrence who guided and encouraged me in my career path, all the pets and creepy-crawlies they allowed me to keep as a child have had an indelible effect on me.

CHAPTER 1

MY GREAT APE ESCAPE

A strong hairy red hand grabbed my left forearm and clutched it tightly. It was extremely painful and I could feel the arteries in my arm throbbing as the blood flow became restricted. The pressure increased until my fingers turned numb. Massive canines glistening with saliva were moving steadily closer to my now-powerless arm. I knew that if those teeth sank into my flesh, the damage would be severe. The bite wound would become infected and I would be lucky if my arm was all I lost. This sort of aggression from one of the worlds most powerful apes could very easily be lethal.

It was because of my own naivety that I was in this predicament in the first place. Who in his right mind would get into a cage with an adult orang-utan, let alone try to insert a needle into him? My precarious situation was the result of believing, against my better judgement, the advice of the large primates foreign handler a short, dapper Italian man with blazing red hair and a poor command of the English language.

My sole objective now was to escape the menacing ape with as little damage to myself as possible.

The massive orang-utan was named Borang. He and his handler had left Italy during a heatwave a few days earlier and arrived in KwaZulu-Natal in cold, damp weather. The sudden change in climate had affected the large ape. He was off colour, and that was when I, as the vet to the zoo in the Camperdown area, became involved with him. His handler had managed to convince me that the great ape was too ill to be a danger to me.

The initial examination of Borang had not presented any unusual problems. He had allowed me to take his temperature with a standard oral thermometer and, after first tasting my stethoscope, had let me listen to his chest and abdomen. The handler had persuaded him to open his mouth, and I immediately noticed that his tonsils were inflamed. He was also chesty and had a slight nasal discharge. His temperature was slightly higher than that of a human being which I guessed would be a little elevated for him too. He was obviously not just suffering from jet lag.