Here they are: day 25.
Twice a day I make oats porridge (called Uggi in Swahili) for the pups. Their first meal is at about 7.30 in the morning. The second is around 1pm.
Here Princess "helps" the pups eat while a pup drinks from her!
After their breakfast we noticed that all the pups were huddling in the doorway of the hut. So we decided they should continue with their morning sleep until the sun warms their enclosure.
Tummies full, the pups sleep in the hut for a couple of hours in the morning
I tend to forget that I have chores in the house. Instead I spend absolutely ages watching and photographing these cuties.
Aren't they just the sweetest ever?
Sleeping just like a big dog, Mama!
Princess isn't sleeping in the hut with the pups at night, which is working out well. Last week as soon as Michael opened the hut at 6.30am, Princess would hop inside and lie down for the pups to have a feed. Recently I've noticed that she's not going inside anymore. When we take the pups out for their uggi/oats porridge, she sits by and watches. Then they go back into the hut for their morning sleep.
Over the weekend, I saw that she lay down for them to suckle while outside. Every so often she'd take a pup's head gently in her mouth and pull it away from her body
Princess lies in the shade of a tree nearby still keeping an eye on her pups!
The pups spend their brief waking hours playing with each other
This is my pod - I found it!
Ha-ha, I took it from you!
Let's sniff these interesting things...
I'm coming to get you!
There is just no end to their cuteness, is there?
I left this bit of news till last: On Friday when I accompanied several other ladies and Omary (our interpreter) to the school, I felt terrible. In fact when I got into the car, Marita said: "Jo, you look awful! ". I sat through the presentation (which was late- Africa time!) and fortunately for me Omary did my whole talk.
We arrived home at lunch time but Marita said she'd take me to the hospital for tests at 2. I phoned Dr Leonard at 1.45 and he said he was on his way back to the hospital. Marita collected me and left me at the entrance while she went to fill her car with fuel. After greeting the ladies in reception and asking after their families, (the one is Baraka, the blind boy's grandmother) they handed me my file; I walked down the hospital corridor to Dr Leonard's rooms. The day before on the airstrip, he'd joked with me, saying I see the reporter is here.
That afternoon, I said to him, "Doctor, can you believe that I was right as rain yesterday; yet today I am in your surgery, ill?" So he said, yes, he can believe it because malaria and other tropical diseases have the nasty habit of attacking you without notice. He sent me for blood tests at the lab.
By now Marita had returned and came into the lab with me. (In Africa we all join in everything, even illness) We both greeted Yasini, the young lab technician, who had been on leave. So we politely asked where he went on his break and asked after his family. Finally Yasini took my arm and searched for a vein, and Marita, sitting opposite me had to turn her head away!
Yasini asked us to return in 45 minutes when the test results would be ready. Marita brought me home and said she'd pick me up at 3 again. I had time for a quick sandwich and cup of tea and then Marita arrived at my gate.
Because of the severity of the attack this time, he prescribed the anti-malarial injections - six - which are given over the course of five days. Marita, who'd never been in the hospital, walked to the women's ward with me and waited while the sister administered the first injection, which is a double dose.
On Saturday and Sunday afternoons, at 3.35 (you have to do this at the same time every day) Grant took me for my jabs.
So here I am, on the fourth day of injections and still feeling very weak and ill. In fact as I publish this post now, I am retiring to my bed with a hot-water bottle and my ubiquitous glass of iced water beside me.
Apologies for any typos; I just don't have the energy to edit my post!