6 weeks ago I was packed into the back seat of a car amongst boxes, luggage, pillows and food to travel for 9 hours from Melbourne to Sydney with my grandparents. THEN! trauma and chaos descended in a confusing, monstrous, MESS!! I was packed into a space where I could easily and happily lie down, stand up, turn around but for 30 hours I was alone, hungry and I’m sure I smelt pretty bad. Actually, I know I smelt pretty bad because that’s all my parents and brother could say when they picked me up from the airport in my dreadlocked glory.

Dad drove us back home and as soon as I got there, I jumped out the car and my feet hit snow for the first time in my life. Holy shit, it’s pretty cold and I have bare feet. I’m not sure if this is normal. I want to get inside the house, but it smells really nice and fresh out here so I’m going to cruise around for a bit. Eventually we all go inside because mum is complaining that she can’t feel her fingers. All good. First night in the new house and it’s cosy and I have a bed and I just crash out.

The next morning dad gets it into his head that he wants to play in the snow. Mum and my brother think it’s hilarious watching me run up and down through the snow. My brother has his snow shoes on and tramps through the soft snow that’s covered the entire backyard. This is ace. A whole acre of yard.

What I don’t see at first are the pink flags sticking out of the ground. It’s about the fourth of fifth day that I find out what the pink flags are. Let this be a warning my friends, those pink flags = a jolt of electricity when you cross over the line. DO NOT cross the line. Listen for the beep and back away. This is an invisible fence to keep you within the boundaries of the property. Now, I’m meant to be smart, but it took me about 3 goes (and 3 bejesus shocks) before I realised that these flags were not to be messed with. There’s meant to be a warning beep but I literally have wool growing out my ears and don’t really hear much.

Below is a photo of me. I’m the one in front.

IMG_4272

The next week dad tries to teach me how to stay inside the boundaries. Man, that lesson sucked! Where’s my mum and why is she laughing? This is bullshit! One day I just brace and I run straight through the line, I get shocked again but I’m free! It’s raining but it’s pretty nice and the earth smells good and I’m just walking walking walking…towards one of the busiest roads in the area. I can hear my mum hollering for me and I can see she’s in two minds about whether to come after me or whether she trusts me to turn around and come back home. Sucked in mum! Your indecision means I’m going to keep walking. Screw the pink flags! I walk on to the main road and mum can see that the cars have slowed right down. It’s still raining and I’m feeling pretty indestructible after beating those pink flags. Now I’m going to take on peak hour traffic and beat that too.

Mum’s on the phone to dad, “The dog’s escaped! F**k!”

Someone makes a call to the local police that I’m on the loose and for about 3 hours I’m like uberfamous because I’m all over the Brookfield Police Dispatch.  Woo! After a while though I’m kinda tired and cold and I think I’ve done something to my left fore paw. I cross a few more busy roads before I see that there is a convoy of cars that mum’s neighbour has rounded up and they’re all trailing me trying to herd me in. Mum eventually gets me and then I try to bite the guy who did most of the herding. Sorry mate whoever you are and I hope you didn’t get fired from your job because you were late after trying to help my mum out.

For the next couple of weeks mum watches me like a hawk. She goes a bit OTT at the pet store and buys rope lines, retractable leads, tie outs, stuff!

Then mum brings me to the vet. I don’t like the vet clinic (it smells like stale disinfectant covering up dog mess), I don’t like the vet and I don’t like the vet assistant (get this irony – the vet assistant is a behavioural specialist. If I could have done this  download I would have). Anyway, mum gets conned into giving me a vaccination against Lyme disease just because the vet’s got a bunch of stories about how bad the ticks are yadda yadda yadda. What do you know? I develop frigging hives and I’m itching and scratching. It’s driving me crazy and I’m pretty sure I kept the whole house up all night with me scurrying around trying to reach that stupid place between my shoulder blades. Really. This is so shit. Mum brings me back to the vet the next day who gives me a couple of shots and before mum can throw one more death glare at the vet, we get out of there. If things can’t get any worse, mum puts one of her old tshirts on me and socks on my feet so that I can’t scratch anymore and that’s really annoying because all I want to do is get that itch, and she posts the photo on social media. Awesome.

IMG_0090

See she’s done it again here. She just can’t help herself.

Ahh, it’s a dog’s life.

Shout outs from mum to: #BrookfieldPolice, all-in-one butcher and baker and candlestick-maker Jackie #neighbourextraordinaire #DENsoycandles and friends at
#LagottoRomagnoloClubofAmerica 

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “What I would do

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s