Sad news 2: Ahmad and the river

Ahmad was the vet that followed the research on small cats. A well-educated, quiet and serious guy with a nice smile. He disappointed me with his examination of the ratufa squirrel. After working for several weeks he finally took some days off, and decided to go out. It has now been heavy raining for several weeks and all rivers are flooded. I had to “rescue” people that were stranded on the other side of the river from camp (we have a truck inner tube we use as a boat). When Ahmad got to the last (large) river to cross, something happened, probably his feet got trapped in the mud at the bottom, he couldn’t overcome the current, went down and was swept away. Opo, the station manager, had crossed before him, found it hard to swim across, but had made it, and asked him if he felt he could do it. He was ready to hand him a long branch to help. He jumped back when he saw him struggling, but by the time he reached the backpack to which Ahmad was clinging, he was gone. He searched around, people came from the station, bringing the inner tube to explore downriver. Next day we all went to help, painful dynamics with search & rescue teams, incredulity, profound shock, sadness. They found the body 400m downriver, trapped under a log.

Cats

I have seen another clouded leopard. It was regal, lying on a low branch waiting for a prey to walk under it along the trail. As it often happened to me before, I “somehow” perceived its presence (not sure if it is some instinctive warning system). Very large. I pretended not to have seen it, turned around and quickly got my camera out, but when I turned again (5 seconds later) it had vanished, like a ghost, not a sound, not a trace (apart from claw marks on a trunk).

Frustrated, I kept searching for my siamangs, then decided to wait under a feeding tree they often went to. As I sat there carving my new project (a hornbill), I looked around and saw another cat, peacefully resting 12m from me! We spent about a whole hour sitting like that, respecting and appreciating each other, then he stood up, looked around and left walking beside me. I now know that it was a marbled cat, an extremely rare cat of which virtually nothing is known. Apparently only another researcher has ever had a comparable experience (after spending days on a hideout, and then scare the cat away with the shutter noise of the first shot). It was a memorable experience, something that can in an instant erase tons of frustrations and bad moments of this period.

Few weeks later, two students from Massachusetts came to study small cats (all felids except from tigers), and there it was the dilemma: they are nice people (and fellow researchers) and I wanted to help them, but at the same time I really didn’t like the idea of them trapping and sedating the animals that honored me with such great sightings..

Sad news 1: Polly the ratufa

Ratufa is the scientific name of the giant squirrel, a rather beautiful, colorful, cat-sized squirrel with a bushy tail longer than the body. During a thunderstorm Alice (the other researcher in here) found a baby ratufa on the ground, probably fallen from her nest. She had still closed eyes and was screaming for help, and she took her home. In the next 2 days we took her where she was found, hoping her mother could take her back. After unsuccessfully trying to find her mother, we decided to adopt her. Finding some food that could suit her was harder than I expected: milk was categorically rejected, egg yolk was even worse. Water with cane sugar was accepted but not a viable long-term solution. Grated apple mixed with ground peanuts was found to be the optimal meal (thanks to the “expert” friends who provided advice through instant messages). She loved it though at first was not particularly skilled in eating it. And here I could go on with a hundred stories on peculiar behaviors that she did, so lovely, so special, just as a stereotypical proud and boring parent. I will restrain myself to just a few: she stood on my shoulder when traveling, on the head if walking fast, and inside my hair bun if raining; she responded to my “calls”, climbing frantically all the way to my mouth and stood there, concentrated, “duetting”; she would curl into a ball to sleep (my hand the favorite spot by far), and be completely trusting (I could then walk around without disturbing her sleep). But this is a very sad story: we left for 3 days, and when we came back she had lost weight, didn’t want to eat, spent most of the time sleeping and being inactive, and in two days rapidly faded. A vet that was following a study on small cats was no help, disappointingly. It particularly hit me because when I try to do something I really want it to succeed, and I really tried hard to raise her, and had become very, very attached to her.