Monthly Archives: January 2014

The Ferry Home

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We arrived at Fishbourne at 3.30pm and took our place in line for the ferry.  The sun was getting low in the sky, making it gloomy and chilly, so I was pleased when the ferry turned up and we rolled on to the ramp for the journey back to Portsmouth.  As the ferry turned around to face the right way, the gulls flew around the boat and the winter sun glistened on the water.  John decided he would go outside to snap a few pictures and I said I’d join him shortly.  But as I sat comfortably in the warm listening to the humming engines and the splashing of the water against the sides of the ferry, my head lolled sideways and my paws dangled over the edge of the soft seat and I was gone, snoring my furry little head off apparently.

When I came to, Natasha was admiring a rather splendid photo John had taken of the sunset.  I gave my face a quick lick to get the sleep from the eyes and looked around.  I could the Solent Sea Forts coming into view, telling me that we were almost there.  The four forts were built on sandbanks and shoals to defend Portsmouth Harbour from attack and also have the advantage of warning ships about the shallow places and sandy elevations that constitute a hazard to navigation.  The sea forts were the last thing I remembered when I woke up at home in my favourite bed next to the radiator, and I went back to sleep to dream that I was romping through the forests with the beautiful jaguars and the lovely tigers.

Geoffroy’s cat

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Geoffroy's cat by Stavros043
Geoffroy’s cat, a photo by Stavros043 on Flickr.

It was cloudy and windy but that didn’t stop me from going mad with the camera again at Colchester Zoo with John, Natasha and Jason. Most of the shots were at silly ISO and stupidly slow shutter speeds (photography nerds will know what I’m talking about). The rain came earlier than expected, but Colchester Zoo is 60 – 70% under cover so my fur didn’t get too wet!

I hope you like the picture of this lovely little cat who looks a lot like a domestic cat and is a similar size.  In fact, it is known as the Geoffroy’s cat and is native to the southern and central regions of South America.  Unfortunately its another one that is considered to be at ‘near threatened’ status by the IUCN (International Union for the Conservation of Nature) because of concern over land-use changes in the regions where it lives.

Shad does the Isle of Wight Zoo

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A huge roaring tiger was leaping off the roof towards us.  Of course it never actually reached us because it was made of plastic!  It’s the first thing I saw as we pulled up to the Isle of Wight Zoo on this sunny clear winter day.  I was chomping at the bit to go inside because, although the zoo has a variety of animals, it specialises in tigers and lemurs, both beautiful and intriguing creatures that a sassy cat like me can relate to.  It’s a family-run zoo built within the ruins of a Victorian Fort constructed to guard Sandown’s coast and its fundamental goals revolve around care, conservation and education.

We wandered in and caught sight of the black and white ruffed lemurs with their paws spread out and their bellies on display, laying on a rock in a sunny spot of their enclosure.  They lifted their heads lazily and watched me go by as if I was impudent for disturbing their sunbathing.  There were some lively ring-tailed lemurs, black lemurs and red ruffed lemurs, and the slightly more timid grey mouse lemur and white-fronted brown lemurs.  I had no idea there were so many types of lemur!  The mongoose lemur (named McLovin) was originally taken from the wild by illegal traders and sold as a pet to a Polish sailor.  I’m so glad he ended up here at the Isle of Wight Zoo where the keepers care deeply for this lost little soul and make every effort to encourage his natural behaviour and enrich his environment.

Like McLovin, many of the animals at this zoo have their stories.  Some have been rejected by their prides or family units, others rescued from circuses or animal performance groups, or liberated from lives of stress and misery.  Natasha has visited this zoo before and is friendly with the keepers, so she gave us the inside scoop on the histories of me of the big cats.  Rajiv the tiger (an Indian/Siberian cross) was bred by a circus organisation in the UK and sent to the USA to be a ‘celebrity animal’, posing with people and opening hotels.  I can only speculate as to what unkind means his owners used to keep him pacified during the times he was on show.  He was apparently kept in a concrete pen and suffered chemical burns to his elbows because his owners would hose-out the pen with him in it.  His life at the zoo is a thousand times better than the life he had before.

Zena the white tiger suffered with eye problems for many years due to the inbreeding history of these animals and had her right eye removed due to glaucoma in 2006, which is why breeding white tigers is not ethical practise.   When we saw her, she was parading up and down her enclosure with a muddy wet tummy, having splashed around in the puddles and got that fluffy white coat of hers all dirty!  She is amazingly 17 years old and enjoying her retirement with her sister Zia who you can see in the photograph flopped out on a rock.

Casper is the white lion you see in this iconic pose as he stands on top of the rocky hillock in his enclosure surveying the surrounding terrain.  Lions are under threat all over Africa as they lose habitat and compete with humans and Casper has played an active role in helping to raise awareness of their plight by taking part in a project for Lionaid.  What a star!  He had quite the entourage as we looked up at him in awe and he went all alpha-male on us, puffing out his chest, shaking his magnificent mane and grunting.  We were doing a bit of grunting ourselves after holding awkward positions for ages waiting to get some good shots of Casper so we decided to go to the café for some lunch.  As we sat comparing images, my cat instincts kicked in and I felt eyes on me.  I looked around to discover we weren’t alone in the café as a pen full of degus was checking me out.  I gave them a flick of the tail and a shimmy-wiggle as I trotted out of the door.  Well, you’ve gotta give ‘em something!!

My brazen swagger was nothing compared to the bold strides being taken by Tequila the jaguar.  This striking beast had black spots and rosette-shaped patterns across her coat, a muscular body, robust head and powerful jaw.  She arrived at the zoo in 1999 with some behavioural problems thanks to her less-than-happy experience with an animal entertainment troupe.  However, she now displays natural and healthy behaviour as a result of the care she receives at the zoo.  The jaguar is the third largest feline after the lion and tiger and populations are in rapid decline.  As their habitats decrease in size and richness of wildlife, these poor things are being forced to venture too close to human populations in their desperate search for food and are being killed by farmers and ranchers for attacking the livestock.  So much damage has been done through poaching and deforestation that the road ahead is a tough one and the future of these exceptional cats is bleak, but organisations such as the Wildlife Conservation Society are making efforts to protect jaguar populations and we can only hope that this help has come in time.

I liked this zoo’s ethos and their willingness to take on animals that other zoos may not want because of their age or history.  The keepers know the characteristics and requirements of each individual big cat in their care, down to disposition, sociability, allergy status, food preferences and even the noises they make.  You can read more about the animals on the website.  Meantime, one small domestic short-haired cat, two adult humans and one child made their weary way back to the car with exhausted smiles on their faces for the journey home.

http://www.isleofwightzoo.com/

Shad goes on the water for the first time

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My closest and most daring experience with water to date has always been my mad dash through the shower as John turns it on.  For some reason, I hear the shower door open and the motor start to run and I am overcome with an impulse to hurtle on to the shower floor and leap across it before the water hits.  But my encounters with water took a fresh turn on Sunday when John and I ventured across the seas with John’s daughter Natasha and her little boy.  When I say ‘the seas’, I mean the bit known as the Solent between coastal Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, which from my perspective was like an ocean.

We arrived in Portsmouth, first in the queue for the ferry, and I felt like Jack Sparrow in Pirates, all villainous and swash-buckling, ready to board the Black Pearl.  I got so excited I had to excuse myself for a moment and use the facilities.  The ferry arrived at port and it looked like a giant rusted metal rectangle floating on the shimmering surface of the water.  I looked resolute at John and he smiled reassuringly as he drove the car on to the boat and parked at the front.  I stayed in my travel basket until we found a seat upstairs and got our cameras out.  As we made our way to the outer deck, I could smell the salty sea air and hear the water swell as the Black Pearl parted the waves.

The Solent was calm and a murky turquoise green and the sky was blue with the odd puffy greyish-white cloud overhead.  An aircraft carrier rested motionless at the harbour, speed boats powered past us and huge cargo ships sat ominously in the distance, their boxy silhouettes a reminder of the other world that exists at sea.  The mainland got smaller and the Spinnaker Tower disappeared into the distance as we cruised towards the roughly diamond-shaped island that is known as an area of outstanding natural beauty.  We soon arrived at Fishbourne, disembarked and set off through the narrow pot-holed country lanes and rural landscape towards the dramatic chalky coastline on the other side of the island at Sandown, where I caught sight of our destination.

http://www.wightlink.co.uk/

Shad contemplates his career

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These pictures are of one of my pretty domestic feline cousins.  She absolutely insisted that I share it with you.  Vain, yes I think so!!  But she’s cute so she gets away with it.  Her name is Muffin and being a sleek black cat like me, she is a little tricky to capture on film.  The facial features and subtle colour changes of black cats (just like white cats) can be difficult to see on camera because there is no contrasting colour for the auto focus to lock onto.  With practice, such photography becomes easier and I was pleased with the pictures John and I took of Muffin that day.  So was she, as you can tell from the self-satisfied expression on that adorable little face!!

John and I have been amateur photographers for many years and decided to go professional in early 2013.  It’s been an exciting year given that I am passionate about camerawork and had the opportunity to shoot different people and animals in a wide range of places and contexts.  I’ve learned so much and seen an improvement in my work and I’ve gained a name for myself as a photographer who listens to his clients and creates images that leave a lasting impression.  We’ve also had so much fun and I think it’s important to laugh and enjoy your vocation and help people relax.  But it has also been the most challenging time.  There are so many photographers charging too much without delivering on their promises, or charging too little, reflecting their bargain-basement attitude.  It’s a competitive industry.

Making a success of the business sometimes feels like an arduous task and no matter how honourable and capable I am, there’s always someone out there waiting to get one over on you!  But John and I make a good team.  With John’s skilful use of the lens and his technical expertise, and my impeccable charm and eye for composition, we’re determined to rise to the challenge.  By the way, in case you’re curious, Muffin has a personality as endearing as her petite velvety nose, and we’re just good friends!

Shadow

Shad does the franco-english Marwell tour

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Have you seen a ‘hippopotame pygmée’ or a ‘singe’ recently?  You would have, if you’d been with John and I at Marwell Wildlife Park this weekend.  Two of John’s friends were visiting from across the Channel and we decided to give them a guided tour of the wonders of the natural world at Marwell.  They came from Marseille which is the second largest city in France after Paris.  Marseille is an urban area with a large population and a rugged rocky coastal landscape, a far cry from the wooded hills and rolling countryside of Winchester where Marwell is situated.  There were 5 of us altogether, including 2 people who spoke both English and French and were able to translate, and one person who spoke French only.  John speaks a little German but that didn’t really help, and I speak cat which I consider a universal language, but that didn’t help much either!!

Have you worked out those French words yet?  The first one is pygmy hippopotamus, and we were lucky enough to get a clear view of a mother with her little female calf who was born on 13th December 2013.  The baby is part of the European Endangered Breeding Programme and is called Gloria, a name chosen by patrons of the zoo and members of the public following an online vote.  ‘Singe’ (pronounced ‘sairnge’) is French for monkey, and there was plenty of monkeying around as we watched the Colobus monkeys strike a pose for the camera and swing across the branches with their long arms and tails.

There was much guffawing at the giraffe area because these tall elegant creatures with big beautiful eyes looked so demure, but when they munched on their dinners, the prolonged chewing action combined with large elf-like ears made an amusing sight.  I held my tail high as a friendly greeting and made chirrup noises to communicate my appreciation of their awesomeness, but I’m small compared to them and I don’t think they saw me.

Unlike the big cats, which spotted me instantly, may be because they smelt me coming.  Not that I have some sort of body odour problem I hasten to add, but more due to the feline ability to convey identity and mood through scent.  Marwell has taken in a new male Amur tiger called Bagai who is 17 months old and is settling into his new environment before being introduced to Milla, a female Amur tiger.  It is hoped that they will produce offspring to help save this highly endangered species which is on the brink of extinction.  Shockingly, the evil poachers continue to trap and kill these magnificent beasts along with many other animals who now struggle to survive in their native environments.  My thanks go to the conservationists across the world and animal welfare groups such as PETA, IFAW and the WSPCA for their efforts in promoting the wellbeing of animals and giving them a voice.

2013 was a busy year for the keepers at Marwell who also welcomed a giant anteater baby born in November.  Little Rojo seemed content and was fully occupied when we saw him in his enclosure with his mum,  digging at a branch with his long fore-claws, looking for insects.  These curious looking creatures are listed as ‘vulnerable’ in the wild and have thick necks and a tubular snout which ends in a tiny mouth opening and nostrils.  They apparently have poor eyesight but a sense of smell 40 times more sensitive than that of humans.

John’s French friends were visibly impressed at how well the animals were cared for and how keen the Brits are to keep animals as happy and healthy as possible.  They went home with lots of photos and good memories from their trip to the zoo, and I improved my language skills and did my bit for anglo-french relations.  So au revoir, c’est la vie and bon voyage!

Shad sees the New Year in

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Rookesbury Park is a former stately home situated at the end of a sweeping drive in the secluded Hampshire countryside.  This Grade II listed building with its majestic lawns was the location for a special New Years Eve shindig with the Saga Louts, a mellow crew of rock ‘n’ rollers who know how to swing the night away with their rock style.

John and I arrived at the venue around 7.30pm (way past my usual bed-time!) to find the band warming up.  I figured if I was going to be at home listening to the noisy bangs of fireworks, I may as well go out with John and listen to the loud booms of a live band and have some fun.  As the evening went on, I made friends with a great little doggy who was obviously used to being around cats.  I amused myself watching his ears flap around when he got excited.  The party-goers were in good spirits and the drums beat their rhythm with energy.  The guitars were jammin’ and John’s brother Colin on lead vocals was kickin’ it Rod Stewart style.  Do I sound like a hippy groupie?  I could well be their first and only cat fan!

Anyway, apart from the great music, the Saga Louts are also good at getting their audience to relax and participate, thanks to their natural ability to laugh and joke around, encouraging people to join in.  Their vintage classic covers resulted in spontaneous singing and dancing from the crowd and they knocked out 60 songs including Rolling Stones, Yard Birds, Eric Clapton, Chuck Berry and Black Sabbath.  I sat on one of the tables and got lots of attention, especially from the ladies who were cooing over me and giving me titbits of turkey from the buffet.  I could see Colin watching me, trying to copy my moves, but only Shad has the silky swagger Romeo!!

Shad gets Jiggy with the Saga Louts