I don’t do monkeys …

Posted by on Oct 3, 2011

I don’t do monkeys …

Look who Oliver the Beagle and I met on our walkies: a macaque! In the middle of a densely-populated residential estate, no less. He was pacing along the boundary wall of a house, but stopped to give us an impressive dental display as we were passing him!

Oliver (motto: “I’m a lover, not a fighter”) decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and pretended that he hadn’t heard the hissing …

Lord knows I love all animals, but Mr Fangs did give me a bit of a chill. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t been using Colgate on those impressive choppers, so the bacteria from a bite would have been rather unpleasant (necrotising fasciitis, anyone?).

Can’t help but feel a bit sorry for him, though. It’s not his fault that he found himself stuck in a built-up area, confronted with curious human and incurious dog – his type was living in Singapore a long time before any of our ancestors stepped off their respective boats/junks/sampans and started converting his jungle home into multi-storey apartment buildings.

To your average macaque, it’s us humans who are the newly-arrived ‘foreign talent’ barging into his territory, elbowing him out of his own residential turf, taking up all his recreational space, making life too crowded and uncomfortable for him. There isn’t room for him in his own country anymore. Bet he thinks life in Singapore would be a lot better without us around …