Musang, not Musang King.

 Sat June 5, 2021.

At just past midnight last night I had to deal with a "musang", the pest, not "Musang King", the fruit. The fruit is always welcome. Not the musang.

For the past week Hanif had told us a strange-looking animal had "visited" our kitchen area at around midnight. Hanif is a night-owl himself, often staying very late, watching soccer on tv or pecking on his ipod. He couldn't say what it was. I guessed it was a musang. It was.

In fact there were three of them ! A few nights ago Hanif again alerted me about the visitors in the kitchen. I was about to turn in because it was almost 12, and I'm an early riser. We rushed to the kitchen, and there they were, behind the a/c compressor. In spite of all the commotion, the musangs took their leave, going  up the kitchen roof, unhurriedly. 

We decided the gap on the kitchen wall must be secured somehow. The next morning I got some plastic mesh and sealed off the offending hole. Or so I thought.

Because the next night, again around midnight, Hanif alerted me again about our visitors. I found two staying behind the mesh, but one large musang inside our dining area. How did it get in ? On inspection I saw no sign of break-in on the mesh, but Hanif pointed to the very small gap on the other side of the wall that could have  been used.

I'd got out my "parang panjang" and rushed back to find the musang inside still lingering, perhaps trying to find an exit. I thrust my long parang and it made contact, but the musang just spurted out into the surau in the front part of the house. I rushed in and closed the surau's door behind me, but the musang had disappeared. It must have clambered up the wall to the ceiling, where there is a gap left there when the room was added to the main area of the house.

I was determined that I should be prepared to take this pest out. That meant I had to use my .22 rifle. I've had this gun since 1995. I had shot at some monkeys and squirrels back in the kampong. Otherwise it was only the target practice when we had to renew our licences each year. I took the rifle out of its leather sling-bag, and made sure my 10 rounds of ammunition in its magazine are taken out of the rifle. This seemed like the safe thing to do. 

I had shot at a squirrel behind the house some years ago. I'm pretty handy with this rifle, plus it doesn't have a kick like a shotgun. My target-shooting is normally ok. Maybe that day I was overconfident, I missed the squirrel at 15 m. and instead hit the a/c ducting. A loud burst of the escaped a/c gas exploded, the squirrel disappeared, and I was left with a few hundred bucks of repairs!

Well, last night I got my chance.

I'd just laid down in bed  Dekna burst in, shouting "musang, musang!" I got out of the bed, and went straight to the kitchen area, and there was the large musang looking like it was trying to find a way out, after being discovered when the kitchen light was switched on. I rushed back to my room to get the rifle and ammunition. Rushing to pull the gun out of its sheath, then frantically slipping in the loaded magazine, several precious minutes must have been lost. But the musang was still there.

A gun is a dangerous thing. I must make sure no shot would cause unneccessary damage to anything. The position of the target is vital. But I was in luck. The musang was against the brick wall. A missed shot would only hit that wall. I was only about 3 m away, the rifle primed. But the musang was not still. I knew I could still miss. But I didn't.

There are 10 rounds in the Ruger .22. The first shot hit the musang in its midsection. It was the largest target area to aim at.  Blood sputtered on to the wall at its back.  But .22 is a tiny bullet. That's why I have some hollow-points with me, This would make a bigger kill, say, a wild boar, possible. So the musang didn't drop dead straightaway. It jumped into the air, It ran to my right, against the wall there. I fired again. And again, The musang didn't make any sound, but still twisted and turned. I emptied all 10 rounds. It was obviously dead now. Blood was everywhere, on the floor, on the wall.

By this time there were more spectators. My 3 grandchildren now were with their parents, who were there already. The wife also came to watch.

The kitchen was a mess. The musang had knocked down some glass jars, and the contents now covered the floor, mixing with the blood. I put the carcass into a large plastic bag, and put that into another plastic bag because the blood was smeared into the first one. I told Hanif to get rid of the musang, saying it's past midnight, and nobody will see you dumping it in the Sg. Paroi. I told Idah to sweep up the glass and the mess. I said I'll clean up the blood. Idah said she'll turn in now, leaving me to finish the work.

By the time I cleaned up and put on fresh clothes for bed, it was 2 a.m.  It's been two whole hours. But we know there are still two more musangs. And no Musang King.

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