“Up Hill or Down, He’d Walk a Mile for His Camel”
by Louis Beach Marvin III
also known as Louie Moonfire
But Dali Llama did in the Dromedary anyway.
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| Salvador Dali Llama and the Louis Beach Marvin III. Photo by Julian Wasser. |
I want to clarify the circumstances surrounding an incident
that occurred a little more than a month ago [on January 22, 1977]. That was when my dromedary camel
fell 150 feet onto the hard pavement of Topanga Canyon Blvd. The mishap held up
traffic for two hours and imperiled an oncoming truck, for which I'm sorry.
The first question that needs clarifying, of course, is why
a camel was up on that precipice in the first place. Thereby hangs a
tail—sorry, tale.
The camel was named Bony Bananas. For seven years it lived with
high spirits and peaceful joy on top of my mountain in Topanga Canyon,
overlooking the Pacific. Once owned by Marion Davies, the mountain had been
given her by William Randolph Hearst. Miss Davies had intended to live there
but lack of electricity kept her from doing so. It was in 1957 that I bought
the property from a subsequent owner.
The mountain commands one of the most beautiful views in
North America. At the summit I’ve constructed a pavilion to house my many
animals. This structure, built with my own hands, has been featured in such
films as Andy Warhol’s “Tarzan," "Harper” with Paul Newman, and
Alistair Cooke's “America.”
Bony Bananas appeared in most of these films, along with my
African pygmy goats, sheep, chickens, peacocks, ducks and pigeons.
I also have an emu, yak and, last but certainly not least, a
very large white male llama that is occasionally quite vicious. (It was a gift
from a lady whose neighbors were complaining about its spitting habits.) Most
of my animals were rescued from slaughterhouses just before they were to be
auctioned off.
My prime objective in all this has been to give my animals
the greatest gift: life itself. I haven’t always succeeded, for some have been
killed by local predators—bobcats, hawks, dogs and rattlesnakes. Then came the
downfall, quite literally, of Bony Bananas. Truth to tell, my camel didn’t just
fall accidentally to its doom—no, it was done in by another one of my creatures.
Act One of this tragic drama began six months ago when
Salvador Dali Llama (pictured here with me) inflicted superficial wounds on my
camel with its inch-and-a-half-long front incisors. These fangs are lethal
enough to kill any animal, including you or me.
Once I realized the danger they posed, I thought about
making a dental appointment for Salvador but never followed through because of
renewed peace among my animals. However, after Bony’s fatal tumble, a Los
Angeles County animal officer examined the corpse and reported a knifelike neck
wound.
The next day I did some investigating of my own and made an
ominous discovery: I could find only camel and llama tracks at the edge of the
cliff—no dog or human tracks anywhere. Make your own deduction.
Yet I had no intention of getting rid of Salvador for he is
a beautiful creature who helps ward off predators. So I conceived my own
pacification program and purchased a black female llama, who I hope will soothe
Salvador with a few little llamas. Better that by far than further fatalities
among my brood.
Even though human beings should still beware if they ignore
the signs and trespass on my land, they can take some comfort from the
knowledge that llamas spit out a warning before striking, much as rattlesnakes rattle.
In this sense, both species are far more honorable than man, who gives no
warning whatever prior to slaughtering animals for food. Ultimately, of course,
man gets his just deserts, for the meat he devours is apt to ultimately kill
him, given all the cancer-causing petroleum derivatives he uses to nurture and
fatten his innocent prey. Man also suffers from heart attacks and cerebral
hemorrhages, which often come as a direct result of eating cholesterol-rich
fats.
It is because I feel such a deep, almost instinctive love
for all animals—most definitely including my two llamas—that I’ve vowed never
to afflict them with cruelty or pain, nor will I eat any flesh. I’m not saying
my hands are clean, since I probably should have taken precautions to keep Salvador
from shoving Bony onto Topanga Canyon Blvd. In my own defense, however, I do
think my negligence is less reprehensible than the arrogance of most human
creatures, who each day usurp the power to end life from that which had
divinely created it.
[1977-01-24 Los Angeles Times:]
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| Tender moment: Louie Marvin with Boney Bananas in 1973; the camel was apparently killed in fall. Times Photo. |
