The Three Musketeers of Thorn Tree Bush Camp
At Thorn Tree Bush Camp, nestled deep inside Dinokeng Game Reserve, guests often arrive in search of the quintessential bushveld experience—wide open skies, starlit evenings, crackling fires, the call of jackals in the distance, and the comfort of rustic yet thoughtful accommodation. They come for the private campsites, self-catering safari tents, and the feeling of being wrapped in the quiet rhythm of the wild.
But many leave with a memory that lingers longer than the scent of woodsmoke or the roar of lions on the wind: the unmistakable charm of our resident companions—Tinkerbell, Chewy, and Shiloh. Known fondly as The Three Musketeers, they weren’t just dogs. They were a part of the camp, its soul stitched into every path, its heartbeat in every footstep that padded through the dust.
And of the three, Shiloh was the wise matriarch, the heartbeat.
Shiloh: The Timekeeper of Camp Life
Shiloh had an extraordinary sense of time. Without fail, she would begin her ritual at exactly 5 PM—standing firmly in the middle of the living room, barking with deliberate insistence until dinner was served. Chewy and Tinkerbell, of course, followed her lead, but it was Shiloh who set the clock ticking.
Whether it was time to pick Nicholis up from school, time for a walk, or time for a treat, Shiloh knew. There was never a watch on her paw, but her internal clock rivalled the most punctual of Swiss mechanisms.
She was more than a dog—she was a constant. A presence that grounded our days, measured our routines, and reminded us to pause for the simple joys.
Shiloh and her beloved Baba — partners in play, laughter, and endless adventures.
From Kiwi Shores to Bushveld Dust
Shiloh’s journey began in New Zealand. As a puppy, she was our baba—our little girl with soulful eyes and a spirit too big for her small frame. No fence could keep her in. If we ever left her with friends, she would immediately identify the baby in the household and adopt it as her own, lying near, guarding gently.
She loved long walks on the beach, chasing birds she had no chance of catching, and riding in the car to collect Nicholis from school—head out the window, tail wagging with the purest joy. If Rodney was even five minutes late for her daily 5km walk, Shiloh would let him know it. She’d bark, pace, and eventually sit squarely in front of him, staring until the leash appeared.
When we made the big move back to South Africa, she adjusted seamlessly. Where others might have felt the loss of the sea or the chill of Kiwi winters, Shilo embraced the sun-warmed earth of the bushveld, and took to camp life like she’d always belonged here.
The 5 km Daily Adventure: Exploring New Zealand, One Step at a Time
The Ponytail Princess
There was something almost regal about her. Shiloh wore a distinct ponytail on her head—two, actually—delicately tied to keep the long hair from her eyes. Guests would stop mid-sentence when she walked by, utterly charmed by this tiny creature with twin tufts and a confident strut.
Elzabé would bathe her with care, followed by a blow-dry (a process Shiloh tolerated, except when the warm air blew near her face—then the indignant squirming began). Afterward, Shiloh would perch calmly on Elzabé’s lap while her hair was combed and her ponytails retied. It was their time—one of shared quiet, unspoken love, and gentle ritual.
At times, Shiloh would even climb up and nestle herself across Elzabé’s shoulders, as if she were a parrot and not a Shih Tzu. Perched high and proud, she surveyed her world from above, quite content to ride along wherever her humans led.
Shiloh perched across Elzabé’s shoulders like a parrot—her favorite spot for snuggles and TV time nap.
Chewy: A Promise in Fur
Chewy’s story was born of a promise. When young Nicholis visited his grandmother in New Zealand, he fell in love with her black pugs. She made him a vow: when he returned to South Africa, one of his own would be waiting.
Five years later, Chewy became that promise fulfilled.
Full of energy, curiosity, and cheer, Chewy brought bounce and brightness wherever she went. Her tongue often lolled out to the side, her eyes sparkled with mischief, and her love for her humans was limitless. She especially loved joining the evening patrol with her sisters, tail wagging, ears alert.
In time, Chewy began to face her own physical challenges. A spinal condition made movement more difficult. Eventually, she lost her sight. But Chewy never lost her determination or her spirit. She still insisted on her spot in the post-dinner treat line, found her way to the firelight at sunset, and curled up near familiar feet.
She was a little warrior—soft-hearted yet fiercely brave—even daring enough to stand her ground and challenge the great elephant bull at the fence.
Evening Patrol: The Camp Tradition
It became a tradition at Thorn Tree: as the shadows lengthened and the fires flickered to life, the Three Musketeers would begin their rounds.
They visited every campsite—paws crunching quietly along gravel and grass—checking in on guests as if fulfilling a sacred duty. Tinkerbell in the lead, with her keen nose; Chewy close behind, bumping gently into chairs or tents as her blindness grew; and Shiloh, as always, dignified and calm, her ponytails bouncing with each step.
They sniffed at braais, greeted children, accepted belly rubs, and—despite their little jackets that read “Please do not feed me”—often scored bits of boerewors, wors, or chicken.
Eventually, we had to end their evening rounds. Too many treats, too many admirers. Our little guardians were growing too round to be nimble. But even when retired from patrol, they remained ever present—watching, waiting, and always ready to comfort a homesick guest or share in a family’s laughter.
Tinkerbell: The Fawn-Coloured Hoover
Tinkerbell, our retired breeder, came to us last. Fawn in color, full of personality, and utterly impossible to ignore, she was the comic relief of the trio.
With a finely tuned sniffer and the fastest tongue in the bushveld, she could clean a floor faster than any broom. She had an uncanny ability to know exactly when someone was about to drop a crumb—and be right there to collect it.
Even now, she still patrols the camp. Her step is slower, her muzzle grey, but her eyes are as bright as ever. She’ll quietly pass a campsite, glance over her shoulder, and perhaps, just for a moment, wait—half-expecting her lifelong companions to catch up.
Saying Goodbye to Two Legends
This past week, we said goodbye to both Chewy and Shiloh.
Age caught up with them. Chewy, frail but loving to the last, began to fade. Shilo, once our timekeeper and fearless little general, had become blind, deaf, and anxious. We believe cancer had taken root quietly, stealing her spark in small, unkind ways.
We knew it was time.
Together, they crossed that final threshold, as they had lived—side by side, at peace, surrounded by those who loved them.
They now rest beneath a shady tree at Thorn Tree Bush Camp, in a quiet spot where birdsong dances on the wind and the scent of braai smoke drifts gently over the grass. Their grave is not just a resting place; it’s a monument to love, loyalty, and the simple, unbreakable bond between human and dog.
More Than a Memory: A Legacy
Guests still ask about them.
They remember the ponytails, the soft barks, the quiet loyalty. And we remember them too—in every walk, every campfire, every moment of stillness at dusk.
At Thorn Tree, not all legends roar through the night or trumpet across the plains. Some legends wear ponytails. Some stumble bravely through the dark.
Some hoover up boerewors scraps with unmatched precision.
Come Sit With Us
So next time you visit Thorn Tree Bush Camp—whether you're arriving with your bush trailer, setting up a tent, or staying in a safari cabin—pause at dusk.
You might feel the brush of a tail, or catch the echo of a bark in the wind. That’s not your imagination.
It’s just Shiloh and Chewy, doing their rounds.
In Loving Memory of Shiloh & Chewy
Forever woven into our life’s journey—Thorn Tree Bush Camp, our stories, and the deepest corners of our hearts. 🐾