Carol’s Column

We've been harbouring a friendly alien

ALIENS from outer space are invading South Africa. I read this alarming news at breakfast while trying to digest a piece of designer fat-free boerewors especially for slimmers.

"Good Heavens," I said to my happy little family, "aliens have invaded South Africa."

As in families where there is excellent communication, they ignored me.

In a report written by Mike Milton appearing in a highly reputable journal, it appeared that not only had these aliens invaded South Africa, but that they had been branded illegal immigrants.

Further reading elicited that these aliens were in fact, not from outer space but from the planet Earth.

One had appeared in the form of a mongoose lemur smuggled in from the Comores and the other was fortuitously discovered when a vigilant post office employee called in the Natal Parks Board to investigate a suspicious-looking parcel labelled "computer parts". It was emitting hissing and scraping sounds.

The intrepid Natal Parks Board opened the parcel and revealed a most magnificent, metre-long, rare reticulated python which only occurs in India.

The mongoose lemur has acquired a loving owner who in turn has acquired the necessary permit to change its status from illegal immigrant to kosher citizen.

Unfortunately, the python eventually died of a kidney infection.

Meanwhile, to get back to aliens.

"We definitely have an alien in our midst," I said to my husband.

"I wouldn't call Jamie an alien," he replied, looking at our third son. "OK, so he looks different with his hair hanging to his waist and an earring through his nose, but an alien, those are strong words."

"I'm talking about Henry-the-Hog," I retorted sharply. "He's unique. Nowhere else in South Africa is there a dog such as The Hog. I'm sure he was smuggled in from Tibet or even the Amazon."

We looked at The Hog as he sat under the diningroom table scratching his tail. He was indeed extraordinary. With his huge ruff, bald rump, stumpy legs and rigid tail he resembled a warthog. Not to mention his bat-eared fox ears, teeth that protruded at right angles and his habit of flying.

Yes, he flies over 3-m walls in order to communicate intimately with our neighbour's French poodle. He flies on to the diningroom table to steal a leg of lamb or flies through the air to attack a Rottweiler who dared to lust after the French poodle.

There was no doubt, The Hog was an alien.

I took him to my vet who confirmed that in all his years of vetdom, he'd never seen such a creature and it was obvious — The Hog was an alien. "Of course, he's an illegal immigrant," he added, "he needs papers."

It was a matter of urgency, as Henry-the-Hog was about to become a father. So I took him to the Department of Home Affairs (before he could receive permanent residence status he had to be classified).

"He's not black, coloured or Indian," they said, "nor is he white." After much debate he was classified Mixed.

"Good heavens," said my daughter, "this means The Hog has to move from Parkwood because it's a white area."

In desperation I phoned Minister Pik Botha who was unable to see me as he was pretty tied up what with voting and Angola.

It was the Natal Parks Board who suggested I fly The Hog to Natal, where they would personally inspect his credentials and make representation to the appropriate authorities.

At present, The Hog and I are ensconced in a 5-star hotel in Durban. The media has been clamouring for interviews with The Hog but I have declined on his behalf.

This is a sensitive issue, you understand. Because, if he is classified Mixed, not only will he have to leave his loving home, not to mention his loving French poodle, but under the Group Areas Act, he will never again be able to lift his leg in a Boksburg park, nor will he be able to cool off in the paddling pool in the Carletonville recreation centre.

How unthinkable.

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