NEVER A DULL MOMENT AT THE CHATEAU

There was the time we were chatting in the kitchen with Helinho, who’s been working at our house for more than thirty years. He turned to leave and then said, “Uiii!” stopping in his tracks. Holding Zaffy back we inched forward to see what had startled him and saw a rather long boa constrictor stretched across our outside area, quite beautiful with clear markings down her (jiboía in Portuguese is feminine) back and measuring perhaps a meter and a half. What to do? In the course of our forty years in this house we’ve never seen a snake and so we called the fire brigade. Eventually two firemen appeared with a long grappling stick and a large container. The poor snake hissed loudly when she was finally caught - it had taken a couple of tries - and then they eased her into the container and assured us she’d be set free in the rain forest.

 

The firemen were back several months later when a porcupine with long yellow-tipped quills made his way down to the service area and took refuge on Ana’s bed. We heard her screams and all came running to try - and fail - to catch the animal as he scurried from side to side, terrified, dropping his quills everywhere. The firemen came with the same equipment and got hold of the little guy. “Now you’re regular clients,” they said, grinning.

 

Only yesterday Oswaldo and I were sitting chatting outside, dogs resting at our feet, when something large whizzed past my field of vision and crashed into the glass door behind me. Zaffy and Oswaldo rose at the same time. He dashed past me screaming, “NOOO!” in a really loud lecture-hall filling voice, while Zaffy raced after whatever it was into the area behind our kitchen. I hurried to comfort the startled Loki, who had run as far away from the commotion as he could, and turned to discover a large black and white duck calmly swimming in our pool.

With a furious and eager Zaffy contained in the kitchen we gathered at the edge of the pool wondering what to do. Victor was admiring the pretty duck swim around and dip his head, wriggle his tail, and then shouted incredulous, “He pooed,” when a green plume spread behind the bird. Finally, we thought of dispatching a masked Victor to the building across the road, which has a pond, and indeed the duck, two actually, had fled the condominium during a recent rainstorm. He returned with a bewildered young worker, who turned out to be unable to grab the duck. “A recent hire,” explained the manager, with whom I was now texting, and who was not on site but directing rescue efforts by phone. A more seasoned employee arrived holding a big net (neither of them wore masks). The chase was on. By now the bird had left the pool and was sitting in a planter, considering the view. With the guys running behind it, the  bird scuttled and half flew through our garden until it crested our wall and landed in the street. This was when they managed to catch it. “Her,” as it turned out. The female half of the pair of ducks that had taken off. 

 

We let the frustrated dogs outside in the garden and did the only sensible thing: opened a bottle of rosé and began relaxing. A later look at our security cameras showed us the moments when Zaffy cornered the duck, saved by the arrival of Oswaldo, and how the duck ran – wings spread – for the pool, startling poor little Loki.

 

Meanwhile we’re looking skywards expecting the other shoe – or duck – to drop!