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My life wasn’t complete without my buffalo. And to make matters worse, news came through that Jump had broken out of the camp and wouldn’t be brought back in. I was really disappointed for Hop and Skip’s sake. It would now be just the two of them again. And for me, well, I had Pumba […]
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Pumba –Part Three As Pumba got bigger she started to explore more. And on one of our walks she took this to the next level. We were walking on the open plains on the farm when we came across a massive burrow, probably of an aardvark or warthog. I expected Pumba to just stick […]
Hi everyone, Luke here again. Here’s another little series for you. It’s about Pumba, the pet warthog I had. We shared many great experiences together and she really was great to have around. If you want to make it like Pumba and Timone in the Lion King, then Tofi would have to be Timone! Enjoy.
Pumba – Part One
Some areas of the farm are so full with thorn trees, in particular sicklebush, that you can’t see any animals. So to restore some grazing areas for animals, we had to do a little bush-clearing. Now this can be done it two ways: either manually, or with a tractor and slasher, which we called a bossiekapper. The latter option works much quicker, so that’s what we decided to use.
One day my dad, sister and I went to check up on how the work was going. We arrived in the now open field and had a look at how things were going. While we were walking around, we stumbled upon a baby warthog that had a big gash on its head. My dad quickly caught the poor thing and had a look at its injury. The gash was fortunately not as big as we first expected, but the poor warthog didn’t look good. She still had it umbilical cord and looked very weak.
Dad suggested that we just let nature take its course as mom wouldn’t be very happy having to look after her. But Ruth and I are very good at begging and we managed to persuade dad to at least let us show her to mom. Tofi also wanted her to go home, as she was sniffing the thing the whole trip home.
Mom wasn’t at all impressed when she saw the ‘present’ that we had brought for her. She said that we were just delaying the inevitable, that she would soon die. But when we started crying, she just had to give in. The warthog was getting a second chance in life that it deserved. We immediately got a box and lined it with a warm blanket. We wouldn’t keep her in the box forever, but just so that she could rest in peace and settle in. The little girl was so cold and still so small, but we made it comfortable for her and put her in the box. She immediately went to sleep, but we checked up on her every few minutes to see that she was alive. She was part of the family now, and she had to be treated like one.
We decided at supper that night to name her Pumba, after Pumba from the movie the Lion King. And we were all hoping that she would be just as charismatic as her name sake.
The next day we managed to get some powdered milk (for puppies), and a small bottle for her at the vet. He told us that we were silly to try and raise a warthog as there are so many of them in the wild. Little Pumba was here to stay though, and we were going to make sure of it.
Pumba didn’t want to drink at first but when she got a taste of the milk she didn’t want to stop. She was a pushy and greedy little thing, even though she probably was the runt of her litter. Ruth and I fed her every two hours in the day, while mom woke up every two hours at night to check up on her and feed her. She wasn’t very happy that she had to do this, but we could all see that she loved the little thing.
Pumba grew stronger and stronger, and after a week we moved her into one of Tofi’s old baskets. This allowed her to walk around the house whenever she liked, but preferred to spend her time in our arms, much to Tofi’s dislike. And at night when we had gone to bed, Pumba would lie on Dad’s tummy while he was watching television. This was perfectly fine with Dad, until Pumba weed on him the one time. She couldn’t go outside to do it so she just did it on him. Understandably, Dad was very happy with this and immediately sent Pumba to her basket. She didn’t mind the basket though, but treated it just like she did dad and did her business there as well.
Pumba’s first experiences of the wild were short forays into the garden with Tofi. They sniffed around together but Tofi was still a puppy and wanted to play. Pumba was the perfect size for her to test her skills on and they ran around chasing each other. Tofi always had the upper hand though and nipped Pumba’s nose to keep her in check. It was great to see them playing and Tofi enjoyed Pumba’s company even though she didn’t get as much attention as she used to. Pumba had settled in nicely with us, and her life was off to a good start!
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