A Puppy Update

I've had a few people write and ask me for an update of the pups.  They are both doing well and quickly finding there own special places in the family and in my heart.

Athena and Demeter are the best of friends. Seeing the two dogs roaming around the back yard looks quite comical considering the size difference.  Athena lopes along at a normal St Bernard pace and Demeter scampers along at a very non normal Border Collie pup pace, but has not trouble keeping up.  She does seem to need more sleep than Athena though and I wonder whether it's not all because she is so much younger and her faster pace in life has something to do with it.

 Athena is very concerned about the size difference and is very careful not to hurt Demeter.  This has resulted in Demeter taking unfair advantage and we often have to rescue Athena from the tiny pup.  It seems Athena has very tasty ears and it has to be said, a temptingly large area of  them.  She is so patient with Demeter.  A few days ago I was in the kitchen watching them through the window as they played.  Demeter was trying to jump up to attack Athena's ears as usual.  She was getting frustrated with not being able to reach.  While I stood at the window and watched, Athena lowered her front end, in the classic downward dog yoga pose, to get down to Demeter's level so the game could continue.  It quickly turned into a wrestling match with Athena lying on her back while the little black and white ball of energy attacked various parts of her body.  At one stage Demeter attached herself to Athena's ear and Athena couldn't do anything to dislodge the pup. She tried moving her head from side to side, but Demeter hung on tightly.  Athena tried batting the pup off and despite the huge paw brushing at her gently, Demeter continued to hang on tightly. Of course there was lots Athena could do if she lost her temper or hurt Demeter but Athena never has so far.  I tapped on the kitchen window until Demeter realised she'd be in trouble if she didn't let go of Athena's ear.  I'm pretty sure she was hurting Athena, because when they got back to their game Athena wouldn't bend down to Demeter's height again, although she was happy to keep playing as long as her ears were a safe distance from sharp puppy teeth.  Still, the little episode didn't damage the friendship at all.

They are a force to be reckoned with in the back yard and are always extremely excited when I go outside.  I spend quite a while fending off bouncing puppies and leaning St Bernards before I can move a few feet away from the house. I am always escorted wherever I want to go outside.  If I manage to sneak out without them seeing me, there is a mad scramble to get to me as quickly as possible once they notice I'm outside.  It's nice to be loved.  

Both girls continue to steal boots and anything made of plastic including my gardening clogs.  Thankfully they have the three treasure trove spots in the garden and it's usually a matter of checking these out to find the missing items. Strangely, Graeme's work boots rate their own, fourth spot in the yard, well hidden among a little bushy area in the corner of the front garden. Boots they don't chew thankfully, just steal and drool on.   I've had one pair of gardening clogs ruined and the second pair (bought to replace the first) severely chewed.  We try to keep them up out of reach but old habits on our part die hard.  We are used to being able to leave our shoes on the bottom of the shoe rack and have them remain there unmolested.  This is no longer the case.  Plastic on the other hand is destroyed if we don't rescue it quickly enough.  The kitchen hand broom is the latest casualty.  Graeme used it outside on the porch when moving the back door for our kitchen renovations.  He turned around and couldn't find the hand broom anywhere.  I found it up near the chook pen.  Suffice to say I've put a new hand broom on the shopping list. 

Athena has taught Demeter the joys of swimming in the dam.  It's usually just a wade out until Athena's tummy gets wet, but that relatively shallow depth is a full on swim for Demeter to keep up with her much larger best friend.  Most mornings I am greeted by two thoroughly wet and happy pups.  Now remember what I said about how glad they are when I go outside?  Add that exuberance to the muddiness and sogginess of the pups in the early morning and you can see that mornings are fraught with problems.  Our toilet is in the laundry outside the back door so there's no avoiding the muddy paws first thing in the morning.  


Yesterday Athena and Demeter seemed to spend most of the day in dam.  It wasn't a particularly warm day and actually rained from time to time, so what the attraction was I can't tell you.  It seemed every time I saw the girls yesterday they were happy and soggy, wanting to share the wetness with me.  Demeter went one better than Athena at one stage.  It looks like they came out of the dam in a particularly silty area.  Athena's huge feet were coated in grey, slimy dam silt.  Demeter on the other hand was covered from the tips of her paws to the top of her tummy in the slimy, mucky stuff and she couldn't have been happier.  She had the hide to rush up to me, yucky tail wagging furiously, and throw herself down at my feet, exposing the disgustingly filthy tummy and requested a tummy rub. I told her there was no way that was happening despite her hopeful looks and furiously wagging tail.  Demeter couldn't believe that her cuteness didn't outweigh the yuckiness, but no amount of cuteness, and there was plenty of that, would have had me touch that tummy!
 
I'm going to have to try and get some photos to share with you all.  Photo taking is difficult to almost impossible because as soon as they see me they stop doing whatever it is I want to photograph and come over to bounce or lean all over me.  I don't seem to be able to sneak up on them.  They must be constantly on the watch for one of us to come out and play with them.  I will persevere though, so stand by for some less than pristine, but extremely happy pup photos in the future.

Introducing Demeter

I have been trying to convince Graeme we need a second dog ever since our lovely Dione succumbed to old age shortly after Christmas.  Graeme has of course resisted.  A few days ago he mentioned going away for a few days and I pointed out either Athena would have to come with us or she'd need a friend to keep her company.  After just a little thought Graeme opted for the Get Athena A Friend option.  I threw myself into action before he could change his mind and searched the agricultural newspaper for Border Collie pups.

I have wanted a working dog for myself when I help in the sheep yards.  With my back injury I'm severely limited in how much I can help, but with a four legged assistant I should find it a much easier and less painful job.

Yesterday I rang the dog owners from the first ad I found but all four male long haired Border Collies were sold. I looked in the Rural and found another lot of Border Collies - these ones smooth coated. They had two females and four males for sale and were in Wagga. Yesterday was the best day for the owners for us to go see them so we headed off straight after lunch.  After a short discussion before we left we decided there were more advantages to a female pup than a male pup.  Females, in our experience, tend to be a bit more sensible.


Choosing between the two cute female pups was difficult but eventually one pup seemed to show a bit more independence and interest in her surroundings.  The owner told us she also had the best voice (important when working sheep) so she was our choice.  I apologised to the other pup for slighting her and told her I hope she found a good home with someone else (earning a strange look from the owner).

We are now the proud owners of Demeter (Greek goddess of crops and harvest - very appropriate huh?). She and Athena made instant friends. Demeter was glad to see another dog and Athena has wanted a doggy friend ever since Dione died. Demeter has no problems with being followed around by a giant puppy and Athena is besotted and gob smacked that dogs come in such small packages. She met a whippet yesterday when the people came to buy a ram and thought that was on the small size for a dog, but Demeter is tiny!

Speaking of the whippet - the poor little girl got a grass seed in her side a while back. She's had five operations to remove it as it travelled under her skin. She now has to see a specialist vet at Charles Sturt University Veterinary School because the seed germinated inside her and she has multiple lumps and infections in her little body. She looks healthy and happy, but of course the germinated seed has to be located by ultrasound and removed. Her owner told me the total surgery bill (counting the previous operations) will come to over $2,000.00.

It's been 15 years since I've had a tiny pup and that was Dione and Juno who had their mum with them all through their growing years. It's ages since I've had to look after a sad little pup who misses its mother, but Athena is doing a good job in keeping Demeter company and making her happier to be here. Last night they curled up on Athena's rug together and slept the night away without so much as a whimper from Demeter.

Taking photos was an adventure in itself. Then getting the two dogs to smile at the camera at the same time took me back to my kindergarten teaching days. So photo quality isn't great. Anyway ... presenting Demeter Small aged nine weeks (that collar was the smallest size we could buy without insulting her by buying a cat collar).

Update On Athena

 Athena loves her new home.  She's settled in and established two treasure troves in the yard.  These are where she keeps things that are good to chew, like old ice cream containers, chew toys I've bought her and  and is where we go first to find out missing shoes.  One treasure trove includes and entire pelvis of one of our long dead sheep so it's clear Athena has big ambitions for her treasure troves.

I've tried to keep them a secret but Athena discovered one of our dams on Saturday. 


 
















Of course once you've had a good swim in the muddy dam water the
thing to do is roll in the dirt to seal the water in.

Such a happy face.

Introducing Athena

For weeks the back porch has been a place that made me sad.  Whenever I opened the kitchen door and there was no Billy to greet me I felt my loss of him all over again.  It took me  a while to get used to not seeing his gorgeous face around the place but slowly I got used to it.  I still miss him dreadfully, but I don't get a shock when I open the door and he's not there anymore.

Spring Rock has added a new member to the menagerie.  After Billy's death I wrote to a number of St Bernard breeders to ask if there was any possibility of purchasing a pup in my very limited price range.  I told them a little about Billy and my sadness in losing him in an effort to show them any pup who came to live here would have a good and loving home.  Most replies said I had no chance of obtaining a pup at my price.  Two replies from two lovely breeders said the same, but offered me older female dogs they'd kept to breed with when they were old enough at a very reduced price.  I responded to the first offer as soon as I convinced Graeme that what we needed was another St Bernard.  Graeme was quickly getting used to a one (very old) dog situation and I'm sure started to think of the future with no dogs at all.  Graeme didn't take much convincing when I told him the price difference between a pup and the nine month old dog offered to me.The fact that she was an eleven hour drive away from here and that we had only two days we could spare before 2013 to pick her up presented a challenge, but after a marathon drive to South Australia in one day and a second marathon returning home the next, complete with very reluctant dog in the back of the car, Spring Rock once again is home to a St Bernard.

 

Athena aged six weeks.  She was known as Paris then.  I didn't know here then but these baby photos are too cute not to share.

Athena, then known as Paris,  was less than enthusiastic about accompanying us home.  It took her two owners plus Graeme to get her into our four wheel drive with Athena protesting and resisting all the way.  Once in she cast accusing looks all round and adopted the mien of  a martyr, ignoring my assurances that it would be all right and she was going to be well and truly loved in her new home.  "Sure, sure, sure," I could almost hear her say, "I'm well and truly loved here so why should I sit in this strange car?"  She didn't know what was going to happen but she knew she wasn't going to like it.  Athena stuck to her guns for about half the trip.  She refused to associate with us and took a lot of persuading (in the form of being bodily lifted into the car by Graeme)  to return to the car after comfort stops.  She refused all offers of food and water while every fibre of her being expressed a desire to be returned home.  Then, as we neared Balranald everything changed.  Athena seemed to come to the realisation that we were all she had and if we were all she had then she'd better be our best friend.  Once this decision was made she threw herself into the role of best friend with gusto.  When we stopped for comfort breaks she greeted us at the tail gate with licks and a  wagging tail.  She drank all the water we offered and even tried to eat the treats we offered.  These were new foods to her and she couldn't quite bring herself to eat them, but she took them into her mouth and held on to the pig's trotter or Smackos with good will.  She even co-operated in getting back into the car although this process still required a lot of grunt work on Graeme's behalf.
   

Athena aged ten weeks.

Once home there was little more to do than inspect her new back yard, briefly meet a few members of the menagerie (there was much eye rolling among the established menagerie members at the site of another large drooly dog) and settle down for the night in the laundry.  I expected whining and howling or some other evidence of not wanting to be there but thankfully Athena spent a quiet night sleeping the hours away.

In the morning she threw herself into investigating the house yard anew.  No spot went unsniffed and no menagerie member went unsiffed either, with the exception of the galahs and chooks - they wouldn't present themselves at the cage wall for sniffing.  Athena and Dione, the ancient kelpie, were undecided about being friends at first.  They'd bump noses and both jump back like they'd had an electric shock, but both were happy to express good will towards the other.

Later that day her world started exploding with people.  We celebrated Christmas the weekend before the actual day this year and the family arrived on Friday afternoon and night.  First to arrive were Frances, Joshua and our four granddaughters who, after Hannah's experience with Billy and her gumboots had vowed to keep a close eye on said gumboots this time.  Athena at first wasn't too sure about all these new people, after all she was still getting to know the two tall people who pupnapped her.  The little people gave her the most trouble.  I don't know if she'd encountered children before but while all four granddaughters were prepared to be friends and love Athena, she scampered for the hills whenever they came near.  At one point, three year old Molly came around the corner of the house and nearly bumped into Athena.  Molly yelled in fright and took off to the north, Athena yelped and took off to the south.  After that little incident Athena looked to be permanently terrified of Molly.  Whenever Molly appeared Athena made herself scarce.

Rebecca, Grant and the three boys arrived after midnight when Athena was locked in the laundry, sleeping a peaceful sleep after her hectic first day at Spring Rock, so she didn't get to meet the new lot until Saturday morning.  With lots of reminding the grandchildren that even though Athena was on the huge side she was still a puppy so they had to be quiet and gentle around her and supplying Hannah and Erin with brushes to brush Athena's coat whenever they felt like it, firm friendships with the little people were made.  In the end Athena and Molly even made peace and became good friends.

Saturday night saw two more people arrive with Savannah and Justin arriving for our Christmas dinner.  By this time Athena must have thought that people would just keep arriving every day until the farm was full.  She made friends with the two new arrivals and settled down to trying to get to know 13 new people. She was still in the process of getting everyone sorted out and processed into friends when they started disappearing again.  Saturday night Savannah and Justin gave her a pat got into on of those evil, pupnapping cars, and disappeared.  Sunday morning, Frances, Joshua and the four girls did likewise.  Athena was not sure - no good could ever come of getting into a car.  She concentrated her friendly efforts on the boys only to have them get in the last car and disappear, despite her warnings about what would happen if they sat on those car seats.

Life then settled down to a quiet, regular lifestyle.  The ferrets were traumatised by meeting a St Bernard who didn't want to annihilate them.  Where was the fun in slinging insults at a large drooly dog who just smiled at you and wished you good  morning?  The Gang of Three are still hopeful war will break out between themselves and the large dog, but they aren't really expecting it to happen.

A few lessons needed to be learned.  Lessons such as shoes are not for chewing, neither are buckets or watering cans.  One lesson that Athena found very surprising was that food that is actually in Dione's mouth belongs to Dione.  At first she'd sidle up to Dione and simply pull on the end of the bone or whatever that was hanging out of Dione's mouth and voila!  it was hers now.  Dione would object, but not very strongly.  It was my reaction that brought home the new rule and Dione was then left to full ownership of whatever she had in her mouth.  Food on the ground at Dione's feet was another matter of course.  Their friendship is progressing slowly.  I gave Dione and Athena a marrow bone each one morning.  Dione sensibly took her bone under the apricot tree only to find Athena following her with her own bone.  Athena thought this would be a good time to have a picnic with her new best friend.  It then became a game of follow the leader as Dione tried to find a private and St Bernard free spot to gnaw her bone.  I ended up having to lock Athena and her bone in the laundry so Dione could enjoy her bone in peace.

That was a week ago.  Now Dione is happy to chew her bones in sight of Athena.  Athena has accepted the what's Dione's is Dione's rule and they are becoming good friends.  Athena is proving to a gentle, loving pup and is making inroads into forging a firm friendship with Graeme.  She helps him work on the car, looking over his shoulder and offering to pass him whatever tool can fit in her mouth.  She follows him around the farm and to and from the machinery shed, always happy to receive a pat or just enjoy each others company.  Graeme is adjusting to having a constant doggy companion. Yesterday she learned that the galahs have a very noisy prejudice about St Bernards. She's decided to keep away from them at the moment, but the chooks have no objection to a large brown dog plopping down and passing the time of day with them through the wire so she visits them from time to time.

So as you see,Athena is very happy in her new home, very loved and slightly spoiled - all the things a dog should be.

Athena as she looks today. 

Bees

I've circled some of the bees so you know they are really there.

A couple of months ago a found a bee in the sewing room.  I used a drinking glass and a piece of light cardboard to catch her (I read somewhere that all bees except drones are female) outside on a flower.  Soon after that I began finding bees in increasing numbers in the sewing room.  A little investigation on Graeme's and my part revealed that a hive of bees had moved into the sewing room chimney.  Graeme sealed up any possible exit hole he could find, without much success.  The bees kept appearing in the sewing room, making straight for the window where they buzzed in an annoyed fashion until I rescued the.  I spent my days checking on the bee population of the sewing room, rescuing bees and feeding sugar water to those that had worn themselves out trying to get through glass.

The sewing room used to be our lounge room until Graeme built an extension on the house to make a better one, and at the very end of this old lounge room lives a slow combustion fire set into the old fireplace.  I don't know when it was last used because the previous owners had a gas fire and we've used gas ever since we got here.  Anyway, back to the bees.  Graeme and I discussed options and my preferred option was to not kill them.  We decided that they had moved in because the area was rich in canola flowers at the time and pollen gathering required very little flying to find that pollen.  We thought that once the summer came and there were no flowers anywhere the bees would realise that this hive wasn't in the best of places and move on.  They didn't.

With all the family coming down for Christmas the sewing room is needed to be pressed into service as a spare bedroom for the grandchildren.  Graeme and I had a bee removal strategy meeting and decided to remove the chimney cap that had rusted out and let the bees in and then hose a little water into the chimney at regular intervals, thus making the location of the hive much too soggy for the bees to remain.  Graeme sealed up all a few more holes he could find and we put our devious plan into action.  The water went in the chimney and the bees came out the chimney.  Unfortunately they came out into the sewing room in droves!  We spent ages carting bees out of the room and Graeme plugged up more exit holes.  This went on for a few days until we stopped putting water into the chimney because it just wasn't working.  The bees kept visiting the sewing room regardless.  While catching one to help it outside, Graeme managed to get it caught in his hair.  I rushed to his aide and was promptly stung on my right hand middle finger.  The first sting we'd received after the rescue of countless bees over a month or more.  Two days later I was stung again on the foot. 

A few hours after the first sting I remembered something -  I'm allergic to bee stings.  The pain in my finger didn't lessen over the hours and I went to bed with an ice pack firmly placed on the aching digit.  When I woke up in the morning my hand had ballooned up and the pain was still present.  I spent the next two days rotating ice packs from the freezer and bemoaning the fact that I couldn't do any hand sewing or Christmas cake making (I couldn't stir the mixture because I couldn't hold a spoon).  Yesterday I went to the chemist and was given some antihistamine tablets and told me they'd make me drowsy.  Drowsy!?  I took one just before I lay down for my afternoon rest and ended up sleeping for four hours! I woke up to find that neither my toe or hand itched which was a good thing though.  The itch came back about an hour later, but I knew when I went to bed and took another tablet I'd get some relief.  Wonderful!

So the score at the moment is -  Bees - lots and lots.  Graeme and I - 0 plus two stings each so I think that actually puts us at -4.  We sort advice and everyone recommended pest control.  I've sadly admitted that I've run out of ideas to get the bees to move on peaceably and I definitely don't want my grandchildren stung.  Our pest controller can't come out here until the new year.

I've had to ring Rebecca to ask her to bring the camper van when they visit because we are closing off the sewing room until further notice.  I'm still hoping the queen bee decides that her present location isn't all she thought it was when she first moved in and she up stakes and seeks a better home for her family.  Until that time we are a room down here at Spring Rock.  The worst thing is it's my sewing room!  I have a feeling that I'll be sneaking in and estimating the chance of being stung and weigh that up against how much I want to sew.  I will also be wearing farm work books while I sew. 

Goodbye My Darling Billy

Billy (with me) showing just what a great show dog he could have been if he'd wanted to.

I'm so sad.  Billy died on Friday night.  He was 12 years old which I'm told is very old for such a large dog, but 10 years of sharing my life with this beautiful soul just wasn't enough.

Billy came to live with us when he was two years old.  He had been bred and raised to be a Champion St Bernard.  His breeder told me he had everything it took to make an Australian Champion and she thought she'd hit the jackpot when he grew into the beautiful fellow you see above.  Billy had other ideas.  He hated being taken to shows and refused to co-operate.  He wouldn't raise his head, kept his tail firmly down when it should have been up and wagging and refused to smile at the judges.  Consequently Billy never won a ribbon.  I can imagine the frustration of his former owner- here was a dog bred to win ribbons and all he did was mope around.  You see Billy was a people person.  He lived in a dog run along at the back of the yard along with all the other show dogs and didn't see much of people, apart from feeding and show preparation.  When I met him he was a sad dog who I thought lacked personality.  He jumped out of his owner's car and into ours without a backward glance. 

Once he arrived at Spring Rock and took in all the acres and other menagerie members he brightened up in a few days. At first he chewed his way through everything not nailed down, and some things that were.  It seemed that when Billy was upset or worried he chewed.  He didn't care what he chewed he just chewed.  The first morning after his arrival we got up in the morning to find an array of work boots, buckets and assorted unidentifiable paraphernalia chewed into small bits of rubble all over the porch floor.  Once he settled in and felt himself to be part of the family (it took all of a week or so thankfully for our farm  and garden equipment) he was always at the back door ready for a pat and a  bit of drool sharing.  Drool sharing and leaning on people were Billy's two favourite pastimes.  Within days of coming to stay at Spring Rock he had met and got up close and personal with most of its inhabitants.  We woke very early one morning to hear one of our ducks scolding away near our bedroom window.  When we went out to investigate we found Billy with said duck sticking out either side of his mouth.  Billy had a big grin on his face (what wasn't taken up with duck that is) and pranced around ignoring the dreadful language and dire threats coming from the soft, fluffy thing in his mouth.  We rescued the duck and build a safe house for him and his friend, but next morning the silly things had found a way out and Billy took no time in renewing his duck carrying experience.  After that the ducks were happy to stay in their safe house - it might be a lot smaller than the whole back yard, but at least it was St Bernard mouth free.  We found that while Billy was eager to please, he was also a bit of a rogue and would see what he could get away with no matter how much trouble he knew he might be in later.  He lived by the motto that the fun was worth the scolding.

It actually took him a couple of weeks to meet up with the ferrets.  Spring Rock was just so full of things to do and creatures to meet that he'd paid little attention to the big cage under the apricot tree.  When he meandered over there one day just to complete his getting to know his new environment, he was shocked to find that the tiny inhabitants of the cage had absolutely no respect for a big, drooly dog.  They were more than aware of the arrival of Billy and had their game plan ready to put into action.  They lined up at the front of the cage and hurled insults at the new big dog on the farm.  After that a life long war was declared between Billy and whatever ferrets were in residence in the cage at the time.  Each new generation of ferret was happy to take up the cudgels and threaten to take Billy on any time he liked.  Even in his last days Billy made sure he passed by the cage every morning as the ferret were put outside to exchange insults with them for a few minutes before going to find a quiet place to lie down for a good rest.

Despite his war with the ferrets, Billy was an easy going dog, with a live and let live attitude to all Spring Rock inhabitants including all the cats but one (he and Ambrosia never got on well together) and our ancient Marrema Apollo.  Apollo was is the winter of his life when Billy arrived, a young, brash pretender for dog of the yard.  They developed an uneasy truce and as long as Billy knew his place (well and truly down the pecking order from Apollo) all was well.  Shadow, our tiny ancient Silky at the same time just rolled her eyes at the displays of testosterone.  She knew she was the boss of the back yard, and what's more both male dogs knew it too.

Billy doted on Shadow.  Shadow wasn't thrilled about this at all.  Billy's demonstrations of affection usually exhibited themselves by his chewing on some part of Shadow's tiny anatomy.  One time I found Billy with Shadow's entire head in his mouth.  She was growling and cussing for all she was worth - if somewhat muffled in the interior of Billy's mouth, but Billy was just sitting there with the fluffy head in his mouth once again ignoring the bad things being said to him.  I rescued Shadow and she emerged soggy but with steam coming out her ears.  She baled Billy up against the porch wall and loudly told him a few facts of life about large, overgrown, dumb dogs who had no respect for their elders.  Billy promised to try harder to behave but it wasn't long before he was gently chewing on some other part of Shadow.  When Shadow died at a very old age Billy missed her dreadfully.  He spent days looking for her and feeling lost.

Billy loved to help me with the gardening.  I have a back injury and getting up and down to do the weeding or planting is a slow process  for me.  Billy saw the opportunity to channel his rescue ancestors and would lean up close to me so I could use him to get myself up.  This worked well except for the times Billy was a bit too eager in his leaning and would knock me flat on the ground.  He'd then stand over me with strings of drool hanging down asking when he could do to help.  He also took it on himself to stand still next to me as I mounted the back stairs.  He adopted the most angelic look on his face and waited patiently for me to lean on his strong back and get myself up the stairs.

Billy also liked to yodel.  I assume with his Swiss ancestry that that was what he was doing.  Some nights he'd sit on the back porch and make noises that in other dogs might be considered gentle howling or singing.  Billy would keep this up for ten minutes or so, consider he'd entertained us long enough with his yodelling prowess and settle down for a good night's sleep.

He had a mixed relationship with my grandchildren.  He loved every one of them but when they were little  he was such a big dog, and they saw him so rarely that they were inclined to be frightened of him.  This upset Billy and one dreadful day he managed to bale Hannah up on the porch where she felt trapped.  I rescued her and brought the crying child inside for comfort and reassurance that Billy would never hurt her.  Billy was very worried, and when Billy was worried he looked for something to chew.  He found a little pair of gumboots and sat down to chew and think about what went wrong with his attempts to love Hannah.  I convinced Hannah to go out and make friends with Billy.  When she walked out the back to forgive Billy for being so big, Hannah couldn't believe Billy's wickedness. She discovered that not content with monstering her, he had the perfidy to chew holes in her brand new gumboots while she was inside crying.  Billy sent her an abject apology and a new pair of gumboots in the mail, along with a photo of his sorry face.  After that they were firm friends.

Billy's Sorry Face

Unlike most dogs, he loved visiting the vet.  Everyone from the receptionist to the vets and other pet owners made a big fuss of him when he arrived and apart from trying to weigh him which he didn't like, everything else was just love and fussing over.  All of which Billy lapped up with a regal air.  Apart from the time when the vet tried to remove a grass seed with just a local aesthetic and me nowhere around to run interference.  No matter how many times she tried to hold his paw he just removed it from her grasp with a polite but firm look on his face.  In the end she had to put him under full sedation just so she could hold his paw.  Billy didn't like strangers getting fresh with him, even if it was a vet.

I could go on and on with wonderful memories of Billy.  He was a joy to own and a truly devoted friend.  Life without Billy her on Spring Rock will not be the same.  Each day I wake up and open the back door to a feeling of loss.  There is no big, furry face ready to greet me and have his morning pat and chat.  I don't have to worry about getting drool on me when I go out.  The back porch is very empty these days.

Good bye Billy.  I will miss you.  Thank you for sharing your beautiful life with me.

Love Is A Very Strange Thing At Spring Rock

The menagerie members of Spring Rock have long kept me wondering about their various, often one sided, love affairs.  The peculiar crushes that have come to life down through the years often defy description.  Christie my pinto pony loved Tiffany a comeback sheep almost from the day they met.  Tiffany loved Christie in return with her whole little sheepy heart. Then there was Bob the Tegals refugee duck I raised almost from an egg, who fell in love with a bantam filly hen and was convinced he was the father of her little brood of chicks.  Bob ignored Jemima the female mallard we’d imported just for company for him while he whispered sweet nothings to the frilly though the chook wire.  Billy my St Bernard fell in love with Shadow, my aged and cranky little silky terrier type despite the fact that Shadow had no use for overgrown, love struck, slobbery dogs.  Even though she scared Billy witless at times when the mood took her to tell him off, he continued to sidle as close as she’d allow and chew on various parts of Shadow’s furry anatomy while Shadow grumbled away and became increasingly soggy.  There have been other, mismatched love affairs at Spring Rock too numerous to mention but today I’m going to tell you about the latest one.  

Nefertiti, my half Siamese tortoiseshell puss has developed a relationship with a giraffe.  Now while it is quite within the bounds of possibility, if not probability, for a Spring Rock resident to fall in love with a real live giraffe, I’m relieved to put your minds at rest and tell you it is a little toy giraffe.  When and why this love affair began I don’t know.  I’ve had the giraffe for quite a while.  I was shopping one day and its huge eyes said, “Take me home,” so I did.  The giraffe then spent all its days sitting on top of my little embroidery thread cabinet in the lounge room minding its own business and moving only when I gave it an occasional dusting.  Thus it whiled away the time thinking toy giraffe thoughts and causing no one any trouble. That was until he began to disappear and turn up in strange places around the house.  I’d find him under the dining table, in the kitchen, even in our bedroom at the other end of the house.  There he’d be all by himself, abandoned by his kidnapper in strange positions – upside down, on his side, even on his head at times.  I’d pick him up, dust him off and return him to his perch on the thread cabinet with stern instructions to stay put.  No matter how hard I tried I never managed to catch the giraffe napping culprit.  Ambrosia the Bengal cat was the prime suspect, mainly because she’s been caught in the act of stealing any sewing tool she can get her teeth around.  Ambrosia denied all giraffe napping charges but I remained unconvinced.  I’d seen that innocent face denying all charges before.  Time came when I had to apologise to Ambrosia and exonerate her from all suspicion of evil intend towards toy giraffes.

Josh, Frances and our four granddaughters visited a few weeks back and I thought with all these extra eyes, not to mention enthusiastic detectives in the form of the granddaughters, we might be able to finally pin the rap on Ambrosia, so I set the girls the task of getting proof positive of the giraffe napper’s identity.  It was Josh who proved to be the best detective in the bunch though.  While we all sitting in the lounge room chatting away, Josh brought our conversation to an end to point out that Nefertiti was making off with the giraffe.  We turned to find a very guilty Nefertiti frozen in place with the incriminating evidence in her mouth.  There, for all to see, dangled the giraffe.  Irrefutable proof!  All four girls took off after the giraffe napper to retrieve the giraffe and lecture a non-repentant Nefertiti on the evils of giraffe stealing.  Nefertiti tried strong denial, but it was too late, she’d finally been caught in the act.  Ambrosia meanwhile assumed the innocent, hurt look only a cat guilty of multiple misdeeds, but for once exonerated of all blame can.  

Since then Nefertiti, realising the jig was up and her love for the little giraffe was out in the open, has become a lot more brazen about running off with her beloved toy.  How do I know it’s love and not jealousy or a desire to de-clutter my lounge room?  I’ve watched her pilfer the toy.  She walks up to the cabinet making little purring sounds, gently lifts the giraffe by the back of its neck and begins making noises not unlike a mother cat with her kittens – sort a  cross between a purr and a meow.  She then proceeds to carry the giraffe to some previously determined place in the house, purring/meowing all the way, where she gently lays it down on the floor (not necessarily in an upright position though) sits with it for a while purring/meowing to it and giving it little nudges with her now.  Obviously the talking to the giraffe is a new thing of I would have heard her when the thief's identity was unknown.  Stealth is no longer necessary so she can let herself go completely when pilfering her love.   She has even groomed it a couple of times while I’ve watched.  Nefertiti then seems to lose all interest in the love of her life and walks off without a so much as a backward glance.  

Her love for the giraffe seems to come in fits and starts.  She’s capable of ignoring the toy for days on end and if I put the giraffe close to her, Nefertiti will give me a totally unimpressed look as if she’d never met the creature before.  Once she drops the giraffe at its preferred (for the moment) destination and spent a small amount of quality time with it she then goes back to ignoring it for an undetermined period of time.  I’ve tried leaving it where she’s put it and so far she’s left it alone in its abandoned location for days on end.  I am the one who eventually puts it back on the cabinet.

Maybe she just disapproves of giraffes sitting on top  of embroidery thread cabinets?