Okay, so this post really isn’t writing related, but I just couldn’t help myself. Although it happened months ago, I still think about this day often, so I’d like to start your Monday with a little story….the true story of a little summer adventure I had with my little lost pony…
Before I get into my little tale, let me just start off by telling you that I don’t like monkeys. Yes, you read that right, monkeys.
I know I said this story was about my lost pony, but believe me this is relevant. I promise.
Anyway, I know people think monkeys are cute and, oh by golly we send them to the moon and teach them sign language because they are so smart. Oh my stars, how can I not love monkeys? I don’t know how. Point is, though I just don’t like them. They freak me out.
So with this new-found knowledge of my weirdness, you can imagine how blatantly ironic it is that out of all the homes in this country, I live in one that is a one-tenth of a mile away from a monkey rescue reserve.
Don’t get me wrong, I think what this woman is doing is a very commendable thing. She’s giving these animals a good life, taking them in when no one else will. I applaud her for her work, as I am a big animal lover and believe in helping animals. Not to mention, I bought my home knowing about the reserve, so with that, all I can do is accept and respect that it’s there. And that’s what I’ve done. For the most part, I’ve even forgotten about it…well not fully forgotten, I mean, they freak me out, remember?
Not to mention, it’s kind of hard to ignore when every now and then I hear a bunch of monkeys screaming, cages start rattling like thunder, men and women start shouting, and then I hear pops of what I assume are tranquilizer guns. And all I can think is OMGoodness, they’ve killed the old woman and are running free and you know they are going to come straight to my house, because…well, because I’m crazy…. 😉
Anyways, with that said, I don’t really think about it much…at least I didn’t until one night a few weeks ago.
After walking around my entire property looking for my daughter’s miniature horse, I discovered he was missing. While I know the concept of having a horse go missing is quite odd, it’s the summer time, and my horses are out on seven acres of pasture so some days, unless I catch them heading into the barn to sleep or heading to the water for a drink, I don’t see them all day. After running to tell the neighbor, her husband proceeds to inform me that he saw a sign propped up at the end of the driveway of the monkey reserve that read “Pony Found”.
At what point do you just have to laugh at how karma can amuse herself?
So, armed with a rope, we head up to the reserve. At this point, I’m thinking. “I’m okay. She’ll bring Thomas out and I’ll walk him home. It’s no big deal. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. All of the enclosures are behind the large wall anyways to detour prying eyes, so I’m sure she’s not going to take me back there. I’ll be totally fine.”
After she greets me at the gate, she motions for me to follow her….behind the wall….into the deepest part of her property….THROUGH THE MONKEY ENCLOSURES!!!!
Just before she leads me in through the security gate she turns to me and says. “Keep your arms down at your sides, okay. And try to keep your distance.” I’m sorry but I think I just hallucinated. Come again? While I told her. “Okay.” In my head I’m screaming. “Are you *insert a lot of unmentionable words* kidding me?” But, what can I do? I have to get my pony. My ridiculously stupid pony that will spend all the days of his life on this earth locked up with the goats after this.
She starts walking through the enclosures, leading me in between several cages that literally were feet apart. Feet apart, people!!! Some of the monkeys didn’t really do anything other than watch me walk by them, but of course, wouldn’t ya know there were some that were not happy with my presence. They screamed, they hissed, they showed their teeth, and worse of all they reached through the chain link fencing and TRIED TO GRAB AT MY ARMS AND CLOTHES!!
So finally after walking me through more enclosures than I can count, she points me in the direction of a small pasture area, and of course, there is my pony in the far corner…next to another enclosure.
Now granted, I have to give this lady props. The property is actually quite nice. The lawn is kept up with, the enclosures are clean, trees are planted everywhere giving the place a very cool, lush feeling. It was actually quite tranquil…without the screeching from the monkeys, of course.
But back to my story, so as I’m kneeling in front of Thomas, securing the halter on him, about five or six monkeys are mere inches from me, screaming, jumping all over their fence, and reaching through the chain links trying to touch him and me. Of course, he’s not phased at all. I mean, why would he be? He obviously doesn’t mind being around monkeys at all.
Finally, I get the halter on and start leading him out. Well then of course, all heck breaks loose. Apparently, the monkeys are attached to the little horse and I’m taking him away…I clearly must die…
While I made it out safely (albeit left in the emotional state of desiring nothing more than a corner, a blanket, and my thumb to suck on) I suppose all I can do is shake my head and laugh off what will go down as the experience of a lifetime.
Even though I’m still having nightmares. LOL.
Oh, and I still don’t like monkeys.