Hot breath burns in the lungs

Temperature - Day (maximum):
approx. 30 degrees

Anna Plains Station – 05.05.2001

After feeding, we follow our camels into the training and leisure enclosure where they seem to prefer to spend their time. Today it’s Edgar’s turn with the Husch – Down exercise. It wasn’t easy to catch Jasper yesterday, but compared to Edgar it was a piece of cake. Again and again he pulls out and the rope through my hands. After half an hour we manage to get his neck rope back next to the post. I quickly wrap it around the post, as I have already practiced with Jasper. Edgar sees red at this moment and races around in circles like a madman. Because I’m right next to the iron pipe, I can avoid his movements without using too much force. He pulls like crazy on the post whose concrete anchoring is threatening to come loose. “My God, can he pull out the post?” Tanja shouts. “No, I don’t think so. It’s too deep in the ground for that,’ I reply excitedly and nervously. Bit by bit, I pull Edgar closer. Suddenly he races towards me and seems to want to attack me. I quickly pull my hands up and take a step towards him, causing him to break off his attack and immediately try to escape again. However, the strong rope prevents him from doing so. The post shakes in its foundations, which are now visibly beginning to crumble. To reduce the leverage of the extremely taut line, I push the knot further towards the ground. Edgar stops, foaming at the mouth, panting wildly and looks at me skeptically and fearfully. Suddenly he kicks out with his hind feet and conjures up two or three short, fast swings in the air that take my breath away. “Jasper was almost tame in comparison!” I exclaim excitedly. Finally Edgar is just two meters away from the post. Like Jasper, we give him the chance to calm down a bit and get used to being tied up. Then we repeat what we did so successfully on Jasper yesterday. As soon as the rope touches his front left foot, he kicks it into the air like a karate fighter without any warning. “That was close,” says Tanja dryly, as the blow went right past her. “Let me try,” I say and try to fish the rope loop with Tom’s stick. Edgar is apparently armed with all the tricks in the book. As soon as the rope is around his front foot, he shoots up into the air several times like an explosion and the rope falls to the ground. We start again from the beginning. It takes a small eternity until we have his foot in the sling and I throw the rope over his back. Before Tanja can grab it, Edgar races around the post like a rocket. At the last second, we both manage to get to safety and jump out of his kicking reach. “Phew, he’s really keeping us on our toes,” I say, panting heavily with exertion. Patience and composure are required here, even if it is difficult. Restrained and trembling with excitement, we start to throw the rope between his front feet again. It touches the hind legs, to which Edgar reacts with a whole volley of nasty kicks. Finally our perseverance is crowned with success and I can throw the rope to Tanja. She quickly picks it up to pull up his front foot. Edgar brutally rips it out of her hands without batting an eyelid. We repeat the game until Tanja can hold the rope in her hands and I manage to race to the other side to help her. Before he can snatch the rope from Tanja this time, we both hang on to it and pull his foot up. He takes several steps to the side, dragging us along like fallen fruit, but we stick to it like burrs. Our hot breath burns in our lungs, but we still manage to laugh. Because we have been able to assert ourselves up to this point. We are both aware that we have to win this dangerous dance, because if we give up today, it will be even more difficult tomorrow.

Edgar is now standing on three legs, grinding his teeth in displeasure and foaming at the mouth as if he had rabies. We have been standing there for 10 minutes now, holding his leg up without him showing the slightest sign of fatigue.

Suddenly Edgar dashes to the side and snatches the rope out of our hands. Powerless, we watch as he dances around the post and defeats us with a mean trick. His frenzy also entangles his hind legs in the long rope. Tanja and I think the same thing at that moment. We grab it in a flash, tug at it with all our strength and can hardly believe it when Edgar falls to his side. “Quick, get the lasso!” I shout. Then I throw it around his right front foot and tie it to the post as well. To show him that we are not killers, I touch his fur and stroke him, but Edgar also sees this as an attack. It only takes a fraction of a blink of an eye before he manages to get to his feet again for reasons I can’t explain. Tanja and I grab the rope lying on the ground, the loop of which is still wrapped around his left front foot, and are able to pull his foot up again. At the end of our strength, we hold his leg up in this way. Because Edgar’s right front foot is now also hanging from the precariously wobbly post, he no longer has much chance of hopping around on three legs. He is definitely trapped.

Meanwhile, I hold the taut rope over my back on my own to take some of the strain off Tanja. After 45 minutes, my muscles are burning as if someone had set them on fire. “I can’t hold out much longer! Try running against him with all your body weight to knock him over again. He absolutely has to get off, because my strength is gone,’ I shout. “Should I get help?” Tanja replies wisely to my ridiculous and ill-considered suggestion. “Yes, but hurry up,” I reply, still very tense. Tanja races off to get someone from the Jackeroos. It only takes minutes for Chris the gardener and Mark the mechanic to rush over, climb over the fence and be with me. “What should we do?” they ask excitedly. “Help pull on the rope and hold his leg up,” I explain. Then I let go of the rope, run around Edgar and try to use my body to push him to the side so that he finally loses his balance and sits down. It takes another 10 minutes before the animal, now trembling all over, gives in and sits down on the ground. Without hesitation, Tanja and I tie his front feet together to keep him on the bottom. Then we brush his fur. Edgar should realize that we don’t want anything bad from him when he has to leave. He roars like a dangerous predator and tries to bite us. We can look directly into its mouth and take a closer look at its tongue, teeth and throat. Rarely does a person have such a good view into the maw of a camel.

After Edgar calms down again, we open his leg ropes. He immediately jumps up. But this time we are faster than him and as soon as he stands I pull on the foot rope which is still wrapped around his ankle. I can bend his leg without much effort. This time it only takes minutes for him to sit down again. Then we release him. We think he’s had enough for today and, to be honest, we don’t feel much different. After six hours in the camel enclosures, we make our way back to our beautiful house, tired but satisfied that none of us is injured.