K...sometime last week, I had problems sleeping because of an unnatural amount of activity on my roof. Scrabbling, chittering, dogs barking in reaction to the nocturnal activity... yup. Invasion of the Civet kind. A family of what we know as musang (which I always thought meant fox, but really refers to the civet cat) has moved into my compound.
I find that move somewhat silly, as I have 6 very predatory cats prowling the perimeter, and the houses on either side of my own are patrolled by dogs which have no compunction in eating my cats, much less the tree-hugging, fruit-loving civet cat. However, hunger is always a huge factor when an animal decides to settle on a place to live. And my house is simply surrounded by all manner of fruit trees.
Predators be damned. The bounty of fruit is lure enough that squirrels, birds and civet cats will brave my family of felines.
As I approached my front gate with a car-load of family members (sister, mother, child), we saw a little kittenish animal toddling on the grass right by where we place our trash can. Commenting on it in excited gasps and chatter (we honestly thought one of our cats had given birth, and that one of her brood had escaped our home), I hurriedly drove my car in, and walked out to take a look.
We realized it was a baby civet cat because, hey, although it's called a civet cat, it's not. A cat. It's quite distinctly NOT a cat, in fact. And I was terrified my cats would find it and kill it...The flip side to owning kick-ass felines is they attack smaller, more helpless, cute n' furry animals.
I grabbed my jacket (I was gonna sacrifice hubby's Mambo jacket to the scratches of a terrified animal, fear that!) and approached it cautiously. I talked in as soothing a tone as I could manage, and tried not to make any overtly threatening or sudden moves. Although it is just a baby, a cornered animal is dangerous, and a mere bite or scratch could potentially be deeply unpleasant.
After a while of nonsensical chattering, it started to calm down, and I believe, to actually respond to my inane conversation. It began to listen (it had been chittering fearfully the whole time) and, in fact, began to converse with me. Half of the time we spent "talking" in our own languages was mostly warnings and, from the civet, a frightened screaming to stay back. Possibly also a cry to its mother, which my sister said she'd seen cross the road. It never came back, nor approached the house to rescue its young.
Anyway, the little thing actually cocked its head to the side and stared at me cautiously. I believe, firmly, that I could have leaned down and snapped it up into my jacket with a minimum fuss... I was that close, and it was that calm. For some reason, though, after having a conversation with it? I didn't want to betray its trust by throwing my jacket over it, and possibly frightening it to hell and back.
My mom passed me some sort of vegetable to feed it to get it to come even closer, but it was too afraid to eat, and in fact backed up into the wall behind it, literally climbing it backwards and upwards, to avoid the unknown offering. I left it on the little ledge it was perched on, but naturally it was too afraid to eat. Also, my sister kept pointing out it's not a vegetarian per se, but a fruit eater. What's the diff, I wonder?
By this time, the neighbour's dogs had caught a whiff of our anxiety, and the little thing's distress, and they were barking loudly and frantically at the wall right behind it. In a panic, the little guy climbed down into the drain, and hid under the little bridge my neighbour had built to reach the garbage disposal area that he'd built into his wall.
All this while, the cats and the dogs had started to close in on the action, and we spent a few minutes chasing the cats away.
The little guy finally took the initiative to climb the slope from the drain up to the fence, and he decided to perch there for a while. We were being non-threatening, but still fascinated at the close encounter we were having with a baby civet. You have to understand, we've lived with a few adult civets, shared the fruits on our trees, and our garden with them. But we'd never seen a baby one before, and we were all enchanted :) What can I say? Jakun, kan?
The little guy eventually decided to move, but he chose to skitter along the top of our cement fence. The dogs were going crazy by now, barking like mad things, and I was afraid it would make a wrong move, and fall into the compound next door and into the waiting jaws of those crazed canines.
I'm here to vouch for the sure-footedness of even a baby civet cat. The little guy finally dropped down onto our side of the garden, where I proceeded to keep the cats away from it. It eventually climbed up the thick, mossy trunk of our rambutan tree, and I hope it got high enough to take the aerial route out of my garden. The civet family usually uses the telephone line highway.
I was definitely concerned for the little baby's life while it was on the ground. At least in the trees and onto the thin cables criss-crossing the entire neighbourhood, it would have a better chance of survival.
As I type this, my ears are listening out for any signs of animal distress and the rustle of leaves that indicates the chase is on. My felines haven't been kicking up a fuss, the dogs are silent, and the noisy little civet dude isn't making a sound. I'm going to take the combined silence as a sign that all is well, and that it'll live at least another day due to our interference.
I actually have pictures, but they were taken by my sis, and on her cam. I'll post up a picture later, if she doesn't delete it first :) Anyway, this post is as much for me as it is for you. I get very distressed thinking about the tree shrews my cats leave around, dead and mangled. This little guy was too cute. I just couldn't bear to think of it ripped up that way. I wouldn't trade my cats for anything, but they're really mean sometimes.
It's a happy memory for me right now :)
