The Search for Panush

There used to be a tall tree in the southern forestlands of South Africa whose base had rotted, causing it to collapse. Nearby trees stopped its descent to the forest floor and it lay entangled in them, making a natural ramp for animals going in or out of the canopy for fruits and leaves. It was high in this tree, well under the shade of the canopy, that Whizzer found to his liking. It was here where he now spent most of his days, descending only to find water or to retire to his tree nest in the evening.

The whiskers around his mouth and face were gray. Habitually he pushed his tongue in and out of his mouth past the few teeth he had left, and mostly stared absentmindedly with the red, teary eyes of an old monkey. Often he would look upward through the opening in the leaves of the canopy to watch the large birds circle and sail high above him. He always smiled to see them, but now it was uncomfortable to watch for very long; at his age all movement was painful and done with much effort. This tree, with its easy slope to the canopy, made it unnecessary to leap from branch to branch in search for food. None of his family members were left; all of his friends were gone. He was quite alone.