I'll be a monkeys uncle, or, my uncle had a monkey

To be truthful it wasn't a monkey, it was a baboon; a baboon! I don't know how he got his hands on one or if it was even legal, but he owned a stinking baboon. As I think back on it, my uncle (my dads older brother) and his wife were the kind of people who would own a animal like that. Of all my aunts and uncles these were the strangest. But that is the stuff of another story. Let's just say they knew how to 'use' the system; the tax system, the welfare system such that it was back then, and generally take advantage of or simply outright cheat people. All this monkey stuff takes place about 1965, when I was 7 or 8 years old. I remember going over to their house, they would tie the baboon up, as a 'courtesy' so we kids would feel safe. They would tie it up right at the door, if we were inside and wanted to go out or outside and wanted to go in, we were out of luck. I don't think the thing would have attacked us, but we were taking no chances. They thought it was funny; we kids hated going over there. One incident that sticks out in my mind occurred at my grandparents, my dads parents, house. I don't remember where my siblings were at the time, and I think my mom and grandma were in the kitchen. My dad and grandpa were probably working outside. I was sitting alone in the living room watching Gilligan's Island, I remember that very clearly. I don't remember be aware of the arrival of my aunt and uncle but while I was watching TV, that baboon walked into the living room. I froze, not wanting to do anything that would startle or antagonize it. To my horror that baboon walked right over to the couch where I was sitting, climbed up on the couch, then got right up and sat on my lap. I didn't know what to do, I was in panic mode, I was afraid to call for my mom or try to get up and leave so I just sat there. Not moving, hardly breathing, I sat there for what seemed a long time. I forgot all about the skipper and Gilligan. Then, as suddenly as he came, he jumped down and left the room. I waited a couple of minutes then quietly went to look for my mom. I needed the relative safety of adult company.
My aunt and uncle had a blind spot where it came to their pet baboon, they treated it like one of their children, which maybe explains why their kids were so screwed up. That baboon had the run of their house and property and even had priority over their kids. At least on one occasion the baboon bit their oldest son, maybe it was provoked, I don't know. But their son was the one who got into trouble over it. My uncle also owned eight or so hunting dogs, dogs he spent money for. My dad also had a couple hunting dogs so I know they were not cheap. On occasion, that baboon would single out one of those dogs and attack it. The dogs were mostly kept in pens but once in a while some or all of them would be out running around the property, it was a real mess with dog crap everywhere. One fateful day the dogs were all out and the baboon also being out and probably thinking he was king of the yard, jumped one of them. When the dog let out a yelp all the others came running to the fight. They knew what was up and I guess they had finally had enough, they all joined the fight and within minutes the baboon was dead. I guess it was pretty ugly. In a fit of rage, my uncle grabbed his shotgun and one by one killed all the dogs. Just like that, baboon gone, dogs gone. In their grief, my aunt and uncle took up their fallen family member and went to a pet cemetery to have a little ceremony and burial. Of course my aunt and uncle being who they were, ultimately refused to pay for the burial. I heard some years later that the owner of the cemetery, not having been paid, dug up the casket and threw the baboon remains in the river. Seems like a pretty mean thing to do to a river.