An explanation of animal habits

We are walking through the bush near the dam and come upon a heap of animal droppings.

Whose are those? I ask Font of all Knowledge, husband.

Dikdik, he says in nonchalant manner of man who has spent his life tracking animals through the African wilds.

 

Why do they do that? I want to know, why do they do their poo in one place.

They always do, says FOAK.

But why, I persist. He doesn’t know why.

I know why, pipes up Hat, who has been whittling a stick with a penknife. And she proceeds to explain.

Once upon a time, she says, delighted to have capitivated audience of two rapt parents who think she is about to deliver Attenborough style wisdom on animal habits, there was a dikdik who drowned in a huge pile of elephant poo. His friends and family were very sad and decided to get revenge on the elephant, which is why they all poo in the same place, one day they hope their pile of poo will be big enough to drown the elephant.

 

But then she considers the almost flat heap of dung, I think it’s going to take a long time, she says.

On the way home, as the sun’s sinking beyond Outpost’s millions of mango trees and the muezzin is revving up to counter the morning’s Anglican hymns, we stop to buy roasted cobs of corn from a roadside vendor. Hat lies down on the backseat chewing hers thoughtfully,

Mummy, you know when we stay with Granny in England and we go to Tesco?

Yes love.

Well I like going to Tesco but the thing is when you go to Tesco you can’t stop and buy sugar cane and mealies on the side of the road, can you?

No love, you can’t.

I’m glad I live here then.