warthog weekend interlude...

*While I promised most exciting tales of our West Pokot trip for my next post (which I will make good on soon to be sure), I must just interject a brief post from this past weekend.*

So Than and I decided to get out of town this weekend and go camping at Lake Nivashsa... Fishermans camp- that great big beautiful place with the huge yellow acacia fever trees where we so often went growing up- has been divided in half and is now two campsites. We stayed at the "Carnellies" side, which seems a little nicer and quieter- Fishermans still gets the big overlanders (aka: scuzzbucket safaris ala my dad) and school groups. Carnellies is very nice, complete with a little bar/ restaurant (great for when you decide to go camping at the last minute and don't have much in the way of gear or food and the firewood you just bought is too wet to even entertain the notion of lighting). The site was empty being that the rains are here now and the days are soggy-- not real ideal for camping, but we went anyway. And it really was oh-so very nice!

So yesterday afternoon, we were sitting up at the restaurant, which has lovely big cushioned sitting spaces- looking out at the rain... I had brought a couple of books along- One Life at a Time, Please by Edward Abby and Wild Ducks Flying Backward by Tom Robbins- who can be kind of... obnoxious, (... well, not for the easily offended to be sure) but really actually quite a good read and rather a good laugh (most of the time)... (These are two of Thans favorite books, oh-by-the-way, so I'm giving them a shot) So while we sat there, sipping our tea, I decide I'll read one of the short stories out-loud. I pick "The Day the Earth Spit Warthogs" from the Tom Robbins book. WHICH I highly recommend by the way- I think you might get a royal hoot out of it. So I'm reading reading reading... And just as I get to the part where the earth actually does spit warthogs, Than says, 'Oh, look Rach, there he is!' And there he was- in all his wiry, steel-wool glory, clomp clomp clomping towards us at a nice tail-in-the-air trot. A warthog. And I think to myself how funny! Assuming, of course, he'll stop once he sees us. But... he doesn't stop... which I realize in time to jump up and out of the way as he hops delicately with his pointed little ballerina hooves- onto the cushioned bench. And keeps on coming... He B-lines for my bag, starts rooting through it, pulls out the bottle of lavender-scented hand sanitizer-- a mighty tasty morsel I guess-- and crunches away! I had my camera in my pocket (always do you know, for such times as these) and snapped a few shots before I realized he was in fact doing my belongings some damage! OY!

So, turns out he is actually a 'pet' of sorts (and the cleanest 8-month old warthog you'll ever see to be sure), that they've had at camp for a while and are getting ready to take to Daphne Sheldricks (where orphaned baby elephants and rhinos are rehabilitated just outside of Nairobi) next week. He joined us for dinner too... and the most hysterical part- other than him loving up Than (go figure) were the teeny-tiny little squeaks he made. Like he really was just a big baby... TOO FUNNY! Sounds outlandish, I know, so here are a few photos-- proof that this all did actually happen just as I am telling you... (and PS- the photo above was taken in the two minutes of sunshine between rain showers, looking out from our cozy cushioned spot. It really did rain just about the whole time we were there.)

Rooting for goodies....

Getting some lovings from Than after his good deeds....
Our dinner guest, back for more love....