Baboons back on my balcony

The baboons are back in Kommetjie. It's been a few years now since I was surprised in the kitchen by a banana munching monstrous male on the counter behind me and I can't say I've really missed that! But this time it's the women who are in town, and that is something unusual, as over the last 35 years it has always been the lone male who raids. The males are still around, as the two (possibly three) females who visited today were all pregnant, but it seems they stayed home to look after the rest of the troop while the girls recce'd for easy pickings.
I feed the birds on my balcony with bits of fruit, bread, suet balls and the odd seed ball and word spread fast that this was the place to dine this morning. They turned up early and without any warning from the neighbourhood dogs. In fact it was Cleo who was catching a kip on my pillow who saw the first arrival through the window and went berserk. Baboons are new to her and she doesn't yet know that they are strictly not for touching and definitely not for annoying with a yappy bark.
Jane (my name for females; males are Bobby) lost no time in sussing out a container of bird seed and deftly snapped the two clips open and tipped out 5kg of seed. Only the sunflower seeds appeared to be of interest and she feasted awhile before I decided enough was enough and whipped the sliding door open to tell her to move on. She glared and bared her teeth at me in a reciprocal show of aggression (we aren't supposed to show our teeth to them) and hers were not in the least impressive. Once a large male baboon has showed you his fangs, there are few others that will impress you, and I've seen quite a few in my time.
The story is that baboons are no longer frightened of women and are more likely to run away from a man, but the truth is that they have now learned to associate a gun with fear, as so many are being shot (culled and by frankly stupid people), so when my son appeared with a toy gun in his hand, Jane disappeared like greased lightning up on to the roof for half an hour before nervously shinning down a drainpipe and moving on.
It's a difficult situation for both baboon and human. They are enticed by an easy source of food, and we are unable to cope with their stealth, intelligence and, let's face it, similarity.