Saturday, June 23, 2007

Dog Day Afternoon

Hey, today was much like any other Saturday. It was cold this morning so I curled up amongst the pillows and pretended I was invisible until the usual gruff voice demanded I get up and attend to my ablutions. We hung around for an hour or so, drinking tea, smoking, blogging, just generally taking the morning slow. It was cold so all the heaters were on until the house was cosy. The washing was done, so we walked out to the line. Had a sniff around the bins, Keira, licked my right ear profusely which was a bit of a shock in the early morning frost and quite unexpected. Then the usual daily ritual began, cleaning, spraying, sweeping, swiping . . .all a bit tedious really so I decided to take some time out and do something different. I noticed the electric fence but since my collar wasn't on, it formed no impediment so after the second trip to the washing line and chasing the wood ducks off the swimming pool, I just went for a cursory sniff. I didn't mean to wonder but there was a stray soccer ball, a creek full of water, ducks and rabbits everywhere so while she wasn't looking I sort of accidentally on purpose shifted into 2nd and did a runner. It was fantastic. I traversed the next three blocks, about 500 metres in all. Had a swim in two of the ponds, chased at least 50 ducks. Barked at that bitch that has the same name as me but she can't do a damn thing about it because she's confined within the swimming pool fence - die biatch. Then through to the construction site at the end of the road. Ahh . . . paradise, builders. Boofy blokes in blue singlets and rather unflattering yellow hats but their food boxes . . . . little plastic tubs of ecstacy. First there are the Lebanese labourers who bring their olives, flatbread and lamby meaty things. Then there are the Aussies who eat all of the pie except the crusty bit at the end, then there's that really sweet Greek bunch who share their Souvlaki, not to mention the fetid mess of rubbish that's been stacked up all week waiting to be removed by the bin men. That incredible blend of plastic, rancid food and left over MacDonalds papers . . simply bliss. So once replete, it's time to have some fun. Down to the lake. The ducks have me sussed and have moved out to the island in the centre but those idiotic moore hens are nesting in the reeds, they're stupid. They look one way and run the other so there's at least a half our of confusing the shit out of the bird brains but ooooh . . . there's Brewster, been at least a week since we've sniffed buts. Fabulous, now I have a partner in crime. She won't mind that I've had a little jaunt, even if I have lost track of time. Won't be happy about the muddy bits but hey . . .I am having a ball! Oooh . . more building sites and a now charcoaled fire that smells . . . can't quite put my paw on it . . .rabbit . . .of course. The bastards think they're so cute. Simply ossu bucco on the run as far as I'm concerned and when i catch one . . .and don't think for a minute I won't . . . well maybe . . .but I'll keep trying. So now I have a beautifully charcoaled face from rummaging below the embers. Bastard rabbits got away again. They're worse than the viet cong with their tunnels and labyrinths.
Ok looks like Brewster's given up . . it's only been . . .holy shit. Seven hours. I'm in strife. I'm 5 kms from home . . .she who must be obeyed will be driving around in that crappy honda shouting "l-i-l-l-y" or something babyish and banal like "Here lilly pilly . . woo hoo" She can only whistle once with two fingers and every subsequent whistle is a mixture between a squeak and a raspberry. Just as well my hearing is acute. Ah, foik her. If I make her sweat I'll get a Pantene shower and a decent meal.
Roit. Off to the Edgewater Drive lake. Have to be careful here. Do-gooders pick me up and take me to the vet where I'm scanned and spoiled and then picked up by she who must be obeyed. That's not a good thing becaus it costs her paper chits and she gets the shits so dinner rarely follows these excursions.
Feeling a bit toired now. I'm miles from home but the trail's fresh. Some builder bastard has put up temporary cyclone fencing on my usual route so it takes a bit longer to get back to base. Well at least the mud has dried. I've been away so long now that she'll be beside herself, so pleased to see me. Christ I'm glad I haven't got that electric collar thingy on, running back up the drive won't be quite as traumatic. "Muuuuuuum . . . I'm home" Here she comes "Muuuuum". Ahem, right not quite the greeting I was expecting. Let briefly inside only to be ushered into the kennel out the back. Not a word . . . not a single word . . .I think she's mad. I think I'm in the shit and will probably be locked up all week. She won't even come to the door if I do the cute paw scrapey thing and mew like a newborn cat. Crikey, I've done it this time. Perhaps a 7 hour bender was pushing the envelope. Maybe I'll get a Pantene shower a little later when she's calmed down and be allowed back on the bed. Then again, it's clean sheet Saturday and I've been a skank. I don't like my dog bed . . . it's cold . . I'm hungry . . . it was just a jaunt for goodness sake . . .just a little tramp across the building sites . . . just some harmless socialising with men in blue singlets and a bit of slap and tickle with some bird life . . .can't a dog have a bit of fun now and then . . .

8 comments:

Baino said...

Absolutely not Lily. You are quarantined, pantened, blow dried and incacerated for a week. If the collar doesn't work next week, I'm going to make you lick a nine volt battery!

Dario Sanchez said...

Talking to oneself is the first sign of insanity.

Baino said...

I never laid any claim to being mentally sound and it seems I have to talk to myself because some certain other person who was supposed to talk to me won't!

Dario Sanchez said...

That was a kidney shot.

Baino said...

Sorry Chief. You had a good excuse after all. Thank goodness you have two . . kidneys that is.

Brianf said...

Cut Lilly a break. She was just doing what dogs do. Rather than giving her a bath, why not just hose her down outback?

Baino said...

What . . .wash out your mouth! No hose for my doggy wog. (Besides, we're not allowed to use them . . .water restrictions)

She gets a hot shower, Pantene condition and a blow dry thank you very much. She has her own towel too!

jen said...

I think being human is often over rated.
Maybe Lily has the right idea about the value of chasing ducks and jumping in ponds.


Are we not all talking to ourselves?