Aunty Pam skyped me from Hillcrest, Kwa-Zulu Natal, South Africa. First she was skyping her grandson Troy. Troy saw my green light and said “That dude is on.”
“What dude?” asked Pam.
“That London dude.”
So Pam rang off and called me.
She told me that a crowned eagle got hold of her prize Yorkie bitch, which was pregnant but miscarried in the scuffle. Uncle Mike witnessed the event and roared at the eagle. It released the dog, and the dog lives. The eagle perhaps flew home empty-taloned to its nestling, by now receiving a good education in the Sucks department of being non-human.
Let’s examine this manifold tissue of events. Culture (human) vs nature is what anthrozoology is built on. Gods and government always knew that nature would be the last bad guy. And nature can take your eye out. And the peasant man knows that if you’re lost in the woods, don’t dance round the toadstools. Don’t sex with the weasel. Because you’ll get incorporated. “There’s piskies up to Dartmoor, and t’idden gude yu sez there b’aint!” — Cornish feudal servant ca 1600.
Incorporation and the corpus. The living dogs husbanded by Aunty Pam and the near-corpse of the snatched up bitch. Aunty Pam invests commercially in Yorkshire terriers. Each puppy sells for a whack of SA Rand. They go to breeders, families, retired folks who’d like to subsume another round of kids. Another stock opinion from the AZ lit : the animal is “petrified” – incorporated into human existence and sacrificing its dogness for a lap. It’s not complicit in the exchange – it just is.
The eagle in KZN preys largely on vervet monkeys. A heavily pregnant small companion animal may be an easier target. Eagles catching dogs and cats is stock urban legend where I grew up. This is the first genuine report I’ve heard. That these worlds are colliding without fission astonishes me. I need to know more. I haven’t heard about any disgruntled dog breeders poisoning crowned eagles, but you never know.