Written by Terry van der Walt
Professional photography by Antony Cousens Photography
For two days in a row, I heard a dog barking and howling in the forest below my cottage in Westville, KwaZulu-Natal. The forest is huge, undulating and tangled with undergrowth, making it impossible to work out where exactly the dog was. There are also sheer cliff-faces and kopjes that need to be considered before venturing beyond. But clearly this dog was in distress and unable to move.
Barks and bundu bashing
Its cries haunted me, and all I could do was breathe and mentally tell the dog “everything will be okay” until I fell asleep.
The Kloof and Highway SPCA wanted me to get a location on the dog before they could assist, since they were already inundated with rescuing dogs that had bolted from fireworks over New Year. And this was no easy suburban call-out. So, I was very surprised when I received a call from field officer Eric Simamane that morning to say he was on his way.
The dog had been quiet all morning, but as Simamane drove into the yard, the barking started up again, so he was able to get an idea where it was coming from. Before I knew it, he, his colleague Sipho Mkhize, and I were bundu-bashing and panga-slashing our way down into the forest below, listening for the dog’s howls and barks.
We crossed a stream and entered a beautiful and dark forest, with very little light penetrating the canopy, all the while listening out for the dog’s barking, and heading in its direction as best we could.
In the forest
About 45 minutes later, the barking suddenly stopped. Just like that. What now? Simamane said this often happened when searching for lost dogs.
“Sometimes we’ve had to go back three days in a row because the dog stops barking when we get closer, and then we don’t know which direction to go,” he said.
“Maybe they can hear us, or even see us, and then they think they’re about to be rescued, so they stop calling for help,” I quipped back.
There we stood sweating in the forest, not knowing whether to stick to the watercourse or head up the steep hillside. Simamane decided to head up the kopje, and in minutes he exclaimed: “There he is!” In a clearing stood this beautiful golden Labrador-cross dog.
Caught in a trap
Simamane cautiously approached and collared the dog, who seemed most relieved that we’d come to rescue him, his tail wagging muchly, and all three of us talking to him and reassuring him. A crude wire snare had caught him around his front left paw, which was slightly swollen. Eric managed to remove the wire snare, but not before binding the dog’s muzzle with the lead, just in case it bit him out of fear or from pain. Weak, but so willing to get away from where he’d been kept captive for days, the dog got into its stride as we worked our way back home.
As soon as we reached the stream, the dog ran into the water and drank and drank and drank. I’ve never seen a thirst being slaked with such enthusiasm. With the sun directly above, it wasn’t easy getting our bearings back home, but my neighbour and landlord, David, hollered from above, and I hollered back and shook saplings so he could see where we were below and direct us back to the gate into our property. Hot, sweaty and covered in cuts, we emerged from the forest with one helluva happy pup.
Back at the Kloof and Highway SPCA he had a full medical check-up, and + to see if he’d been reported as missing (he hadn’t been); he was kept for the required seven days and then he went up for adoption on Thursday 13th January.
Meant to be
Well, he never was claimed, and I can tell you that the beautiful boy now has a new dad... me!
Yes, I must confess that when I looked into his bright eyes the day we brought him to safety, I knew that there was something special about this moment, about the whole affair, and that it was meant to be. Fate had it that he was meant to call for help, and I was destined to respond to the call and do something to help.
And that’s why his name is now Kismet.
He settled quickly into my home and garden. He’s gentle, he smiles a lot, and he eats his food lying down. Go figure.
The energy and love he’s brought into my life are incredible, and I feel so grateful that he was able to be saved and so appreciative of the work done by the SPCA.
The world is crazy right now. It’s full of uncertainty, fear and “bleakitude”, and sometimes it all seems to be a bit too much. But then along comes an extraordinary challenge and opportunity to do what you can to make a difference in the life of another living creature… and change two worlds in the process (mine and his!).
Thanks to my neighbours who came to help, offer advice and support, but biggest thanks go to the SPCA guys for going out of their way to bring this boy back to safety. I’m filled with gratitude right now.
Truth be told, I had NEVER been beyond our gate before this incredible rescue. I’d always wanted to get my little Jack Russell, Mr Spot, to join me on a walk down there, but tragically he passed away suddenly from canine bloat, this after jumping up at trees to get to monkeys. So, in a way, the calling of the dog was divine intervention, and Mr Spot got me to go into the forest after all and, I have no doubt, orchestrated me finding my new best furry friend!
Barbara Patrick, Manager of Kloof and Highway SPCA, adds…
We couldn’t be happier to know that Terry decided to adopt this extra-special boy; he’s definitely a survivor and deserved to find a home where he’d be safe, loved and cared for. Thank YOU, Terry, for choosing to adopt from our Kloof and Highway SPCA.
About Kloof and Highway SPCA
The Kloof and Highway SPCA is located in Kloof and serves the animals of a wide area, from Westville to Cato Ridge. They provide assistance to the community with a veterinary hospital, kennels and a cattery, inspectorate for cruelty and neglect cases, education, and more. Visit their website at www.kloofspca.co.za for more information.
