Killing vervet monkeys is against the law and, while I fully agree with that law, nature’s supply of monkey food hasn’t kept pace with the burgeoning need. Naturally, this means hungry monkeys invade urban, suburban, and rural neighborhoods and act as if gardens and orchards are monkey snack bars. Their habit of taking one bite of a purloined fruit and vegetable before tossing it annoys those of us dedicated to growing plant life.
In past years, my mother’s dogs kept neighborhood monkeys confined to fences on the garden’s periphery. Occasionally, a monkey made a fast sortie to an outlying bird feeder, but most stayed beyond the range of excited dogs.
Nowadays, emboldened monkeys pour over our fences to raid the avocado tree and veggie garden, even brazenly raiding a second bird feeder that’s located close to the house.
Just yesterday, two monkeys sitting on a fence spotted a bowl of fruit I’d placed near a picture window. They were attempting to breach the burglar guards when I interrupted. I moved the fruit bowl then consulted Google for advice on how to cope.
The advice that resonated? Place rubber snakes in areas monkeys travel. It’s a face nature with nature method that appeals to me. The caveat? Monkeys notice if snakes remain stationary in one spot. Google advises regularly relocating the snakes.
I asked a friend about this deterrent. She has her own monkey troubles and already knew this strategy. She offered additional insight. “Monkeys are only scared of red snakes…they laugh at and totally ignore green snakes.” While I can’t think of a single South African snake in the wild that is red, I don’t think like a vervet monkey. I’ll take any advice that allows woman to meet monkey on a level-enough playing field. Plus, I like the image of snakes laughing at humans’ paltry efforts to con using green snakes. I plan to buy rubber snakes and, if they don’t come red, I’ll paint them.
Game on. May the best primate win.