Dudu
For a little while, I got to wake up every morning and call myself a genet cat mum.
The little box
I had already seen photos and videos of Dudu before arriving at Solio.
A tiny genet cat with an impossibly cute face.
I couldn't wait to meet him.
On my first morning back, I walked into the office excited to see everyone. I hadn't even noticed the little box sitting there, but after a while I heard something.
The cutest little voice.
I kept looking around, trying to figure out where it was coming from.
And then someone said probably the best sentence they could have said to me:
I couldn't have been happier.
Taking care of animals is something I have always wanted to do. And suddenly, completely unexpectedly, I was going to have this tiny creature living with me at night.
Another little dream coming true at Solio.
Meeting Dudu
During the day, Dudu stayed at the Orphanage in a beautiful, large enclosure.
That's where I properly met him for the first time.
I approached him carefully.
Slowly.
I wanted to give him time to get used to me and make sure I didn't scare him.
Dudu apparently had other plans.
He jumped straight at me and started playing.
So much for the careful introduction.
It was love at first sight.
Wherever I walked, Dudu was there.
Climbing all over me.
Jumping onto my head.
That evening, Dudu was delivered to my home.
And that was the moment I realised something.
I actually had no idea what I was doing.
So I asked lots of questions, got my instructions and was given everything he needed for the night: his milk and some insects to eat.
I carefully warmed his milk to the right temperature. Locked every door. Checked every window. And let him out.
He was completely crazy.
In the best possible way.
He was tiny and unbelievably cute, but you could already feel how wild he was.
We played for hours.
I made little tunnels for him with a big blanket and pillows, which he loved.
And I quickly learned that if Dudu was sitting on top of my head and suddenly became very quiet, I should be worried.
Because I knew what was coming.
I have absolutely no idea why, but Dudu loved attacking my nose.
Tiny claws.
Surprisingly painful.
And somehow still impossible to be angry with him.
I prepared a cosy place for him to sleep if he wanted to, but otherwise he was free to move around safely during the night.
There was only one problem.
Getting myself into my bedroom.
Dudu followed me everywhere.
And he was fast.
Every time I tried to go into my room alone, there he was, running after me.
Getting through the door without Dudu following was almost impossible.
Eventually I managed.
Then came the crying.
For a little while, I could hear him outside my room.
That part was heartbreaking.
Every part of me wanted to open the door again.
But eventually things became quiet.
And the next morning, I woke up as a genet cat mum.
Find Dudu.
Prepare his milk.
Feed him.
Play.
Then attempt the considerably more difficult task of getting him back into his box. Dudu did not share my enthusiasm for this part of the morning.
Hide and seek
Eventually, I'd succeed, carry his box back to the office and take him to the Orphanage for the day.
I loved the work I was doing during those days.
But I have to admit, I was always waiting for the moment Dudu would come home again.
And the longer we spent together, the more we learned about each other.
Including our games.
One evening, I started hiding behind a corner.
Dudu would come looking for me.
As soon as he found me, he'd jump at me.
So I'd hide again.
He'd find me again.
Jump.
Repeat.
Until one day…
Dudu disappeared.
I looked everywhere.
Normally he followed me constantly, so when I couldn't find him, I started worrying.
Had he somehow got out?
Was there somewhere I hadn't checked?
I kept looking.
Nothing.
And then I found him.
Behind an open door.
Completely quiet.
Waiting on his two back legs.
I spotted him.
And he jumped at me.
I couldn't stop laughing.
He had learned the game.
The other side of him
Eventually, even Dudu ran out of energy.
Between all the madness, there was another side to him.
He loved to cuddle.
He would lie on my chest and purr like a cat, and sometimes we would both fall asleep like that.
Tiny Dudu curled up against me.
Quiet for once.
Until his energy returned.
And then, inevitably, the chaos started again.
Insects.
Blanket tunnels.
Hide and seek.
Cuddles.
Nose attacks.
And very little personal space.
We spent more than a week like this. During the day, I would visit him at the Orphanage. At night, he came home with me.
It became our routine.
The night I didn't take him home
Dudu was ready to spend his first night at the Orphanage.
I knew it was a good thing.
He was growing.
He was becoming more independent.
But I still worried.
I made sure he had the blankets he knew and loved.
And I remember wondering how his first night would be.
Would he wonder why nobody had come to take him home?
Would he think we'd forgotten him?
The carers were there and would keep an eye on him.
And, of course, Dudu was completely fine.
I was probably the one who needed reassuring more than he did.
A month later, I came back.
Would he remember me?
By then, that tiny little creature had grown into a healthy genet.
He was free to go, although Dudu being Dudu, he still enjoyed the comfort and company of the people he knew.
I went to see him.
And he did.
I don't know what Dudu understood about the weeks we'd spent together, and I don't need to.
I just know how special it felt to see him again.
This tiny wild animal had unexpectedly become such a big part of my time at Solio.
For someone who has always wanted to care for animals, I don't think I could have asked for much more.
He scratched me.
He attacked my nose far too many times.
He slept on my chest.
He followed me everywhere.
