Brutus learns the real meaning of Christmas

Posted on December 18, 2016 by Samantha Rose

Brutus

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Brutus and Rocky were in the living room discussing Christmas and their shopping list. Gordon had just done an Exorcist style vomit over the dining room and had gone back to his food bowl to ‘replenish what had been lost’ much to Rocky’s disgust and Brutus’s admiration.

‘So what do you want for Christmas Brutus?’ Rocky asked him.

Brutus looked thoughtful ‘I don’t want much really, I would like a honking pig as Mum killed mine in the garden, I would like some more flappy toys, a spare gingerbread man, maybe a squeaky Santa and another snake, I would like a new collar and ID tag – not one of those crappy collars, perhaps a doggy stocking, a new camp bed for my bedroom and a new stuffed rabbit’ he finished looking absurdly proud of himself for being what he thought was ‘restrained’.

Brutus with last years gift that ‘exploded’ all by itself in the garden

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Rocky gasped ‘Not much? That is a huge amount Brutus and most dogs don’t get that much and some dogs don’t get anything at all’.

Gordon said nothing but stopped eating to listen to the boys talking. Inwardly he was shocked though as Brutus had lots of toys, admittedly some had ‘exploded’ all by themselves in the garden but he never went without that’s for sure.

‘What about you Rocky?’ Brutus asked him. Stretching out on the sofa, Brutus snuggled his head down on the red pillow and waited for Rocky to tell him his Christmas list for Santa Paws. Brutus loves Christmas and every year in the three Christmas’s we have had him, he makes me tell him bedtime stories about how Santa Paws visits all the dogs and leaves them food and bones that their owners have bought them and given to Santa for storage.

Rocky shrugged his shoulders ‘Well last year I wished for my hips to be not so painful and a bit better, but I have already got that present now because Mum bought me special powder to go in my food and they are so much better although I still can’t walk as far as normal kelpies’.

Rocky is a simple kelpie dog with simple needs

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘But I would like some new tennis balls to replenish my collection, I would like a generous slice of turkey if Dad can spare it, I would love to be able to get on the sofa with Mum and Dad and maybe even play with my fluffy penguin after lunch.

‘Of course we usually get a collar each year and I love the Rogz collars and always have a red or a blue one and an ID tag is nice as we usually get one every year as well.

But my best gift is when Mum does her Skype call to the UK and gets to talk to her family and I get to talk to her Daddy – AKA John Stocken because I have met him, I think he could be referred to the doggy version of our Grandad if such a thing exists’, Rocky said knowingly. A wise kelpie beyond his years, Rocky just knows ‘stuff’ and is an oracle of information.

‘You know John Stocken? How?’ Brutus demanded, feeling more than a little jealous of this as he only ever hears my Dad over the phone when he calls me.

‘I have met him’ Rocky said smugly, ‘He came to Perth once and threw my tennis ball and rubber chicken for ages, we had fun, we had cuddles and everything and I slept outside his room for 3 days after he flew back because I missed him so much’.

Rocky, Dad (AKA – John Stocken/Daddy Stocken, and the rubber chicken – Rocky on the left looking camouflaged!

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

The two dogs fell silent for a bit and all you could hear was the sound of Gordon occasionally crunching his cat biscuit.

‘But Rocky, I don’t understand – most of your presents are not sold in the shops so where would you buy them? How would you get them?’ Brutus asked looking puzzled.

‘That’s just it Brutus, Christmas isn’t about how much money is spent on things or how many toys and bones your owners buy for you, it is about the stuff that money can’t buy.

‘Time with those that love you, video calls to friends and family, nice food, cuddles, turkey dinner, the stuff you can only do or speak about with people you love. You can’t buy any of that in the shops.’

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Rocky creating his own memories on one of our road trips

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Sure having toys and stuff is great but those memories last a whole heap longer than any toy that explodes in the garden’. Rocky finished.

‘But what about my toys, I love opening my toys?’ Brutus frowned.

‘You know out of all the stuff on your list Brutus, the one that is the most important above everything else?’ Rocky asked him.

Brutus shrugged because he didn’t know.

‘The collar and ID tag that Mum gets us and pays to have engraved to say we have a home and family of our own. The rest doesn’t matter’ Rocky said.

Brutus quietly walked off to his bedroom and stared at his bed which contained one of his fluffy blankets, his beloved Tony Abbott doll, his stuffed rabbit, his penguin, his honking hedgehog, his bear, baby teething ring and his deer antler.

It wasn’t a too shabby collection of toys, next to it was a bowl of fresh water and a food bowl, his camp bed and behind that a cupboard containing some more freshly washed blankets in case he shit the bed (don’t ask!) and needed his bum washed and fresh bedding.

He walked back into the kitchen and stared at Rockys bed which had been hand made by Cuzz Bro’s Creations, covered in a red blanket, a Julie Gillard doll, another Tony Abbott doll and a gingerbread man which Brutus thinks is his but it really belongs to Rocky, plus a deer antler, bowl of water and food bowl.

Walking into the dining room Brutus noticed a selection of leashes, head collars, a collar, Rocky’s muzzle and Brutus’s camo harness. Brutus also took in the toy box in the garden packed to the top with toys and his recent birthday present of Fat Cat (flappy cat) and his snake he got from Dee Cole at the Funky Dog Company, as well as shit loads of tennis balls scattered around the garden.

Nothing more was said that afternoon about presents from either of the dogs. Gordon never asks for anything anyway and still has toys from when he was a kitten, even his plastic bed belonged to our cat before him – Bruno and is about 20 years old and Gordon loves it. Gordon likes simple things like bird feathers or being allowed to chew my bras (bastard).

Gordon – almost 15 years old and an all round naughty boy and member of the ginger club

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

So today I had to go and do my Christmas shopping and I hate shopping, like really hate it unless I am in a pet shop and then I love it.

‘What would you like for Christmas boys?’ I smiled at them as I was about to leave.

‘Tennis balls would be good and a new ID tag’ Rocky smiled at me.

I shall have a tennis ball please Mum and lots of cuddles and turkey

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘But if we can go to the farm area on Christmas Day so I can catch up with the sheep that would be good as well’ Rocky added.

‘How about you Brutus?’ I asked him.

Brutus stared at me, his red/brown eyes bore into mine, expecting a long list I got ready for his demands of toys/bones etc.

‘If you can see fit to buying me a new honking pig to replace the one you squished in your car that would be nice, and a new ID tag because I have scraped the writing off mine on the wall when I rub myself against the bricks every morning’ Brutus growled.

‘Is that all? Are you sure?’ I asked him, this was news to me – Brutus is the King of Christmas lists and has even resorted to writing his lists on an entire roll of toilet paper to fit in what he wants which involves half of City Farmers.

‘Some turkey dinner would be nice and if I can be with Rocky when you Skype Daddy John Stocken and everyone else that would be brilliant’ Brutus barked at me.

Shrugging my shoulders I smiled at them and went off to do my shopping while secretly wondered if someone had swapped my dog with a newer angelic version.

Brutus the Good Boy

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

After I had gone shopping

‘Did you mean that?’ Rocky asked Brutus, he could barely believe what he had just heard.

‘I’ve got loads of toys, I’ve got pretty much everything really and as you say, the rest of the stuff can’t be bought’ Brutus said firmly.

Rocky looked at his brother in admiration, nudging Brutus affectionately with his snout, Rocky grinned ‘Except for the honking pig – they are $11.00 in the supermarket because I have checked on Mum’s computer’.

Brutus laughed and wagged his tail ‘Yes, let’s not forget the honking pig’.

Driving

Going in the car to look at the sheep – cost? Priceless

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Gordon sat washing his anus from the other chair, at almost 15 years old he had seen many Christmases as you can imagine and he had realised long ago that the best Christmas is one that creates memories and not shopping lists, like the time he ate tinsel off the tree and had to shat it out with my help pulling it from his bum (now THAT is a memory!).

You thought I was joking about the anus!

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Three hours later I returned with very little in my bag as shopping had been a total nightmare, we don’t have children so not much to buy anyway really. But what there was in my bag; was a packet of tennis balls and a honking pig.

And in the post winging its way to me is an envelope with two bone shaped ID tags for the boys all engraved with the best present a dog could want – their owners details and enough phone numbers on there to show the world we love them.

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The most important things – the famous honking pig, collar, ID tag and a bone. These were Brutus’s first things bought for him when he came out of hospital after being critically ill.

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Merry Christmas everyone, thank you for the lovely comments and support so many of you have given this page over the years.

Samantha, Gordon, Rocky and Brutus

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright December 2016

Chinese (Crested) Whispers and your dog

Posted on January 10, 2015 by Samantha Rose

Pippin was sat at his desk wearing his half rimmed spectacles whilst attempting to do his spreadsheets on the laptop and yes, dogs can and do wear spectacles, even if they have no glass in them in a bid to look more intelligent and what is more, they can use computers as well but you should all know that by now, especially if you have dogs yourself.

Pippin Pringle at his computer

(Photograph by Denise Pringle)

(sounds of Pippin’s phone ringing) ‘Hello, Pippin Pringle here’ Pippin said in his clipped posh voice that sounds a bit like ‘BBC English’ in the way they announce a war.

Pippin – speaks in a ‘BBC English’ accent you know, just imagine him with spectacles on the end of his nose

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Yes it’s Amex here, we have it on good authority that Toppa will be coming to QLD to show Mum the ropes about showing, can you pass on the news that he must have his bags packed ASAP and tell him whatever he does, he must not bring budgie smugglers’. Amex said full of his own importance at such wonderful news that would send the Iggies from all over Australia and Puerto Rico, completely into meltdown.

Amex in QLD – giving Pip the good news!

(Photograph by Fran Forbes)

‘What? Are you sure?’ Pippin gasped causing Bronte to put down her edition of ‘Lure Coursing and the modern day Bitch’ and look up at him for answers. ‘Toppa is going to QLD to hang out with Amex and the gang’ Pippin mouthed to Bronte while covering the phone with his paw.

‘OMG, do you think I could come? I have always wanted to travel’ Bronte said excitedly as she had mental visions of her lazing on Surfers Paradise in a skimpy bikini purchased from a trendy surf shop, wearing over sized sunnies while sipping cold water and watching the hot-dogs go by.

Bronte (left) pleads to be able to come to QLD

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘No, the invite isn’t for you, it’s for Toppa and we had better get the word out ASAP so he can prepare himself for the QLD show ring’ Pippin said firmly, and then added ‘OK Amex, I’ll spread the word and will speak to you later’.

Within ten minutes, Pippin had circulated the news round the entire Iggy group, well with the assistance of Bronte who was ‘snap chatting’ on her phone and had even passed it on to the Texas Iggy Group who had promised faithfully to tell the Iggies in the rest of the USA.

‘I must tell Brutus’ Bronte said fretfully, she had run out of dogs to tell and still had a burning desire to tell someone – anyone, so she would tell Brutus as he had a tendency to hang off her every word purely because she was a girl and she was pretty.

Before Pippin could tell Bronte that Brutus is not a proper Iggy, only a pretend one, Bronte was on the phone to him.

‘Hi Bronte, how are you doing?’ Brutus said putting on his posh voice but really he sounded like Mick Dundee from Crocodile Dundee – in fact, that is actually Brutus, well it could be if Brutus were human.

Brutus – AKA ‘Forrest Gump or Mick Dundee’

(Photograph by Francesca Perino)

‘I am fine thanks, I’ve got some news for you’ Bronte said quickly, ‘Toppa is going to QLD to teach Amex’s Mum about the show-ring and they will be all sunbathing on Surfers Paradise with the hot-dogs’.

Now I have explained in my blogs/stories before that when dogs get news or one dog on the street barks at invisible intruders and garbage men, that ‘Canine Chinese Whispers’ always follows and what starts off as one conversation will end up in another entirely.

Hamish the Chinese Crested dog and is in charge of all doggy newspaper releases for the CCW

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Canine Chinese Whispers or CCW are always started by Chinese Crested dogs – they are the best at it you see and even if you don’t have a Chinese Crested dog on your estate or suburb, you can bet your bottom dollar that one will have started the rumour from somewhere and spread it around for other dogs to feed on and enjoy.

Because really, what fun are the garbage men if they are just garbage men, when in fact if you ask a Chinese Crested, they can be garbage men with super bones in their pockets, out to eat your family and rip your toys up and shit on your lawn?

Chinese Crested dogs are such majestic and marvellous dogs, they can make any story worth listening to and everything so much more exciting in the ordinary world of a dog that may spend time on his own in the garden.

A Chinese Crested – preparing for Canine Chinese Whispers

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Anyway, Brutus being Brutus totally got the wrong end of the stick and carried the ‘CCW stick’ and run with it like the Olympic Torch, because he really thought that both he and Vader were invited as Brutus only hears what he wants to hear.

Brutus – he has selective hearing with those satellite ears

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘What? QLD? OMG, I think I might shit myself!’ Brutus yelled and then promptly farted before hanging up leaving Bronte open mouthed in shock at such a response.

‘Shitting oneself for Toppa going to QLD is a bit much don’t you think?’ Bronte said to Pippin and then shrugged her shoulders and wondered who else she could tell.

Bronte – who else could she tell?

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Brutus grabbed his mobile and ignoring the surprised looks from Rocky, called Vader to tell him the news.

Rocky is surprised by Brutus’s announcement

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Vader, it’s Brutus – we have been invited to QLD to be life guard dogs on Surfers Paradise and we have to wear board shorts which we can stuff with socks to make our genitals look bigger!’ Brutus said happily.

‘Oh my god!’ Vader barked and then choked on his tongue and had to sick it up again so that he could continue the conversation. ‘I must tell Tess!’

Vader – am I really going to America?

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Tess, Brutus and I are going to America to see some Iggies from QLD so we can be film stars in a Bond movie and we get to wear a Tuxedo and budgie smugglers and hang out with Tony Abbott’ Vader said importantly while quietly farting in excitement causing the cats to cover their noses and say stuff like ‘Jesus Christ that stinks’.

Brutus and Vader think they are going to be Bond Dogs

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Tess looked thoughtful and being rather different as a Powderpuff girl and having pink paws, she had never been one for Canine Chinese Whispers and thought she should do the sensible thing and call Bronte to get the truth.

Tess – a Powderpuff but not into whispers

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Hi Bronte, it’s Tess – what’s this about the boys going to America to be Bond stars?’ Tess asked Bronte.

‘Oh dear, no it’s Toppa going to QLD to show Amex’s Mum about dog shows and stuff, Brutus and Vader are not invited’ Bronte said firmly.

‘Not invited?’ Tess gasped and then looked at Vader who was pretending that his tongue was a red Hollywood style carpet and trying to persuade the cats to walk on it.

Vader using his tongue as a red carpet

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Nope, this is Toppa’s adventure, good God, can you imagine Brutus and Vader on a plane?’ Bronte giggled.

At Toppa’s House

By now the news had got back to Toppa that he was going to QLD and he was busy packing his Iggy suitcase which consisted of some clothes, a selection of collars, his favourite toy, some dog magazines and a bone.

‘I-am-going-to QLD!’ Toppa grinned as he poked his reflection in the mirror.

Toppa – going to QLD but will he pick up a QLD accent?

(Photograph by Jeni Sach)

He wondered if he would learn to speak in a QLD accent, perhaps he should start practising now in the hope that nobody would know any different when he got there.

He briefly toyed with the idea of being nervous of flying but then remembered how Brutus told him that he has flown around the lure coursing grounds before and he was OK, so quickly squashed those nerves on the head.

So Toppa is going to QLD to hang out with Amex and the gang, will he come back with a QLD accent? Will he start wearing Steve Irwin style shirts and shorts and will he develop a love for surfing and hot bitches on the beach?

Who knows, not me that’s for sure – I make it up as I go along so quite frankly, anything could happen.

To be continued.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright January 2015

All photographs remain copyright of the photographers, please do not use them or reproduce them without their consent.

Lure Coursing, breaking barriers and greyhound dramatics

Posted on September 28, 2014 by Samantha Rose

The poster that we all love to love and look forward to

(West Coast Dog Sports)

The day they had all been waiting for had arrived – yes you got it, it was lure coursing day at Kings Meadow Polo Grounds, Guildford.

As the last event had been cancelled, the dogs were more than ready for this and all you could hear was barking, yelping and sounds of boxer dogs flicking their snot everywhere and cries of ‘Vader has your tongue grown?’.

Because at this event there were more boxers than ever before and to be quite honest – the boxers stole the show.

Vader the boxer (and his tongue)

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

Brutus was upset that his Pharaoh hound boyfriend ‘Benny’ wasn’t there and even more so that Mouse wasn’t. They all get attached to each other you see and the slightest change in their routine can have them getting into more states than Australia.

‘Hi Mac, Hi Bailey’ Brutus said confidently as he rocked up to where they were crated.

‘Piss off’ Bailey snapped and put his head down – he was in a bad mood as Dee had foiled his plans to pull of a sausage heist and had made sure that whatever would blow over, it would not be their crates to enable their bid for freedom and food.

Brutus and Vader had turned up wearing their finest clothes – Vader was dressed as Superman and Brutus was dressed as a life guard which was laughable really as Brutus has all the buoyancy of a house brick and the only thing he could save is food and even that is questionable.

Brutus the life saver (in his dreams)

(photo by Dee Cole)

Brutus ‘the brick’ (in reality)

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

‘Vader! Over here!’ three boxers belonging to Vicki Clements were all dressed up in their costumes. Yelling at Vader to get his attentions; Vader looked round they all flashed their bums at him and started farting, boxers are like that you see – they have farting contests and can generally emit foul smells to order, usually in a car with the windows closed on Tonkin Highway (ask Lexie).

‘Vader – let’s have a turd competition!’ Dibbley the boxer shouted to Vader who grinned back at him just as Lexie said that no, there would be no ‘turd competition’ and to stop being so disgustingly juvenile.

Vader as ‘Superdog’

(photo by Dee Cole)

You know that all boxer dogs speak in the same kind of slow voice, as though their tongues don’t fit in their mouth? (which of course they don’t), well imagine when a group of boxers meet and all of them talking in the same ‘full tongued’ kind of voice, all sounding slow and very special in a boxer kind of way and you will just about get the idea.

Vader’s special magic ever-growing tongue

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

I will say that in their favour; Boxers try ever so hard to be good but most of the time it just doesn’t happen – you can ask Dozer the boxer as he ate his way out of his soft crate and escaped to the sounds of the other boxers cheering and clapping and Vader yelling ‘Go on my son!’ and wriggling their bums as Dozer ran around the polo grounds shouting ‘Boxers rule the world!’.

Dozer the boxer (and crate breaker)

(Photography by Studio Joy)

But as you know, at every single lure coursing meet at least one dog has to escape and if at all possible, roll in horse shit for good measure – it’s The Law and today there was going to be more than one escapee and I shan’t tell you who it is as yet, you will have to be patient and wait.

No such thing as a mature/sensible boxer!

(Photo by Dee Cole)

The Iggy Stand (hub of activity and generally where it all happens)

Rocco was sitting in his crate and swearing as usual, each dog that dared to go past him was duly told to ‘Piss off’ and insulted and even when no dogs walked by Rocco, he decided to swear at the invisible ones instead.

Rocco (fights with his invisible friends)

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

All dogs have invisible dogs to swear at and blame for things so just in case you see your dog barking at fresh air, it is probably an invisible dog that has wound them up or something.

‘You know if I wasn’t in this crate I would eat you and rip your legs off limb by limb!’ Rocco shouted at an invisible American Staffie who just looked back at him and said ‘Yeah, really? and I could pull your legs apart like a wishbone’

‘Your mother is nothing but a street mongrel from Battersea Dogs Home!’ Rocco yelled before Madam Gigi had to gently remind him that Battersea Dogs Home was in London and that invisible dog friends had no parents.

‘Do you like my dress?’ Bronte asked Fletch who blushed before checking to see if Pippin was watching – he wasn’t so Fletch took an admiring glance up Bronte’s dress and nodded in approval.

‘Very nice, SpoiledBratz?’ Fletch asked knowingly – he is SO ‘up’ on his fashion is Fletch and what he doesn’t know about Prada or Gucci is not worth knowing.

Fletch can often be seen in his home with a tape measure around his neck and holding pins in his mouth as he measures the other Iggies for outfits – a bit like a doggy version of that guy Gok Wan the fashion expert.

‘Of course, where else?’ Bronte grinned and then immediately spotted Brutus in the distance and very quickly decided to turn her attentions to him as she had developed quite a crush on the big fella.

‘Brutus! Over here!’ Bronte shouted in her high pitched Iggy voice. Putting her slim paws in her ears; Madam Gigi shook her head and muttered something about ‘there is no need to shout’.

Madam Gigi (not impressed with the shouting)

(Photography by Gwynneth Cavilla)

Ignoring Madam Gigi’s look of disgust, Bronte galloped across the grass to see Brutus so that he too could take a peek up her dress, after all with a bottom as cute as hers, who wouldn’t want to have a look?

‘Really she is such a flirt’ Fletch said with his lips pursed into a disapproving shape – a bit like a cats bum.

A disapproving Fletch (look at that cute little Iggy bum!)

(Photography by Denise Pringle)

‘I think it is time for me to faint’ Nica said and then looked around for her team to assist her by holding her ears back. Apollo was even trained to carry bone flavoured smelling salts to bring Nica round, providing a suitable audience was there of course as Iggies love dramatics and a good audience is essential.

Nica (can faint and vomit with the best of them)

(Photography by Francesca Perino)

But soon all thoughts of fainting went clean out of Nica’s head when she sighted Enzo in the car playing Pavarotti and pretending to be Italian.

Standing there with his tiny Iggy chest puffed out, he waived his arms about and sang in his best opera ‘Pavarotti’ voice while playing ‘Nessun Dorma’ on the car stereo.

The other Iggies clapped and cheered and some of the girls even threw their panties at him and those that were not wearing panties threw their collars instead.

Enzo (talks Italian and likes Pavarotti)

(Photography by Gabrielle Gill)

‘Enzo darling – how are you?’ Nica shouted as Enzo grinned back and kissed her on both cheeks in a very European way. ‘Looking fabulous as always my beautiful girl, let’s talk opera’ Enzo said in his fake accent.

‘Yes let’s’ Nica said and then clicked her paws to a random whippet and shouted ‘Can someone get us some dog-o-cinnos please’.

By the way, please don’t be surprised at Enzo’s love of opera, all Iggies love opera and singing and can do it beautifully.

Pippin happens to run the Iggy choir where they all gather once a week to practice their singing and in a gang of pointy snouts, they sing their souls out whilst wearing tiny starched white ruffles around their necks like the choir boys at Christmas.

One time Brutus was invited to the Iggy choir at Pippin’s house but only once as it didn’t turn out very well when Brutus ruined the whole event with his ultra deep voice.

By the time the song had finished, there was just Brutus left singing ‘All things bright and beautiful’ with such enthusiasm that he hadn’t noticed that the other Iggies were standing there looking on in horror at him singing in his deep voice with enough volume to fill St Pauls Cathedral.

‘Could you hear that OK?’ Brutus grinned proudly afterwards.

Brutus singing choir songs (better suited to the ridgeback choir – according to Pippin)

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

Poor old Pippin had stuffed toilet roll in his ears and gave Brutus a pained smile and replied ‘Yes Brutus, we heard it’ and then gently advised him that whilst he isn’t suitable for the Iggy choir, he could probably join the ridgeback one.

Rocco had no such tact and told him that he sounded like an elephant being castrated and as Brutus is still at the sensitive stage, he didn’t take it very well at all.

But that – as I often say, is another story entirely and as usual, I am digressing (so much to write you see and so many characters banging in my imagination to get out).

*Back to the race day*

Bronte had taken a momentary break from flashing her bum and was standing with a whippet looking at a catalogue for new clothes. She was hoping that her Mum Denise would go on the next SpoiledBratz auction to get her some more cool stuff.

Actually Bronte would have rather liked some clothes from London and had seen a very nice dress with the Crown Jewels on it amongst other trendy clothes; but she hadn’t worked out a way to get Denise to buy them for her – yet.

‘This is all highly naughty, disorganised and irregular’ Pippin said fretfully as he tried to get the Iggies to behave and have some respect which was hard when Nica was flirting with Enzo and Bronte was still looking at the catalogue for new clothes while Brutus was admiring her ‘lady-garden’ under her dress.

Really when did they get so naughty and perverted? Talking of perverted, we won’t discuss Pippin’s penchant for humping male dogs in any which way he and because that would embarrass Pippin and I wouldn’t want to do that but I have actually seen it for myself.

‘Excuse me everyone, let us have a ‘pre race’ meeting so we can get organised. Let’s stop all this nonsense and line up’ Pippin said using his ‘Don’t mess with me’ voice.

‘Rocco, what on earth do you think you are doing?’ Pippin demanded as he saw Rocco rolling around in his crate snarling like something rabid and angry.

‘Bashing the crap out of this invisible dog’ Rocco shouted ‘He is trying to kill me, but don’t worry, I got this covered’

Shaking his head in disbelief, Pippin picked up his mobile phone and resigned himself to a game of Candy Crush while he sat at Denise’s feet as she rubbed his ears.

Rocco fighting with his invisible friends

(Photography by Jeni Sach)

Brutus – (high school jock and a letterman sweater)

It was to be Brutus’s first time doing the full course and whilst I would like to tell you that he took those corners like a gazelle and ran like a professional, that would be lying. Because I very quickly learned that not only does Brutus not ‘do’ corners; but he doesn’t appear to have a ‘stop button’ either.

Brutus (finger clicking flirter)

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

He has also developed this rather embarrassing habit that I am almost too ashamed to admit to you but hey, you guys are like my family so here goes nothing.

Brutus is reaching sexual maturity and has just discovered that young hot bitches like him despite the fact that he has no testicles.

He is a very handsome dog and he incites giggles and flirtatious behaviour from the lady dogs wherever he goes. (Some have even thrown their dog collars at him to get his attention).

Brutus (taking names and taking numbers)

(Photography by Studio Joy)

Well when he did his solo race, he galloped by the side of the barrier and was clicking his fingers like one of the ‘High School Jocks’ in the movie ‘Grease’ – you know the ones on the sports pitch that wear Letterman sweaters.

‘Hey ladies, how are you doing, lunch tonight – my place?’ Much to the amusement of the group of female dogs at the side.

A Scottie dog called Penny pursed her lips to a ‘cat bum’ shape and said ‘Ohh, he is a bit forward isn’t he?’ in her Scottish accent and then immediately blushed when Brutus clicked his fingers, pointed at her and said ‘Loving your beard Ms Scotland!’

‘Oh you cheeky wee thing’ Penny the Scottie dog giggled and then remembered her breeding and that ‘nice dogs’ didn’t flirt back, at least not on the first date and they certainly never removed their collars for a boy.

Now I have no idea who has been teaching Brutus this but he is like a walking ‘chat-up’ machine as he runs along, winking, waiving and collecting phone numbers, panties and pink collars.

On one occasion a pretty female dog even threw her dog collar with address tag at him and said ‘Hey, call me!’ Someone told me that it was Rocco that taught him this trick, but others have said it was Vader which I don’t believe as Vader couldn’t possibly make clicking noises without his tongue falling out and slapping him violently.

So my money is on Rocco as I heard Pippin reprimanding him for teaching Brutus how to say ‘Show us your teats’.

Anyway, the second run for Brutus was with his beloved friend Vader and is always good for a laugh. It was their first time running together on the full proper course and Brutus was showing off doing star jumps and press ups to make himself ‘match fit’ while Vader allowed his tongue to fall out and then lift it back in while insisting that it surely constituted as a warm up?

Dee Cole released Brutus and Lexie released Vader and I just stood there nervously with the camcorder so I could video the whole ‘event’, or should I say ‘scene’ as that is a far more suitable word.

Brutus and Vader – ready to race!

‘Ready Brutus?’ Dee asked the big clumsy brown dog.

‘Yep, bring it on – I am going to ‘do the Mouse’ and set the field alight (Mouse Norris taught him to say that).

‘Ready Vader?’ Lexie asked Vader who was trying to organise his tongue in his mouth so he didn’t trip over it.

‘Yeth’ Vader replied – ‘Yeth’ is said with your fat tongue between your teeth and if you say it now, you will know how Vader talks.

Suddenly the lure started and the boys were released! My heart was bursting with pride, praying that Brutus would not social butterfly with the other dogs and do his embarrassing winking thing.

‘Ohhh, it’s Brutus!’ Penny the Scottie dog said in an excited voice while some whippets giggled near by and clapped.

Penny the Scottie dog (a ‘Tartan’ breed of dog according to Vader)

(Photography by Studio Joy)

Now if you imagine a Scottish person saying ‘Brutus’, it would be said rolling the ‘r’s and sound something like ‘Brootus’. If you have trouble saying it in a Scottish voice, just ask a nice Scottish person to say it for maximum effect.

It all started off well, my heart was bursting with pride but then suddenly Brutus shouted ‘Oh shit, it’s a corner, what do I do?’

Vader and Brutus (a promising start – where did it all go wrong?)

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘You turn it Turd Legs’ Mac shouted from the distance while Bailey spat his water all over the puppies while laughing.

‘Did he just ask what to do with a corner? Are you sure he is half ridgeback?’ Mac asked Bailey who replied ‘Yes he did ask, yes he is half ridgeback but you have got to admit the lad is funny’ Mac nodded his head and agreed.

Mac and Bailey (they love Brutus really)

(Photography by Dee Cole)

‘How do you do a turn Vader?’ Brutus asked but Vader was long gone and had taken to the course like a natural and had secured his tongue in his head and ran his heart out to the cheers of Vickie Clements boxers who were shouting their support in very slow but loud voices as boxer-snot was flung everywhere.

‘Someone help me, I can’t stop!’ Brutus cried and then ran straight under the barrier to the amusement of everyone watching while Penny the Scottie dog covered her eyes and said ‘Oh dear, Oh dear – poor Brootus!’ (Brutus)

The Samoyed who is a regular fixture on the lure coursing circuit and is the self appointed ‘Town Crier’ was now shouting ‘stampede, loose dog!’ and barking her head off to everyone telling them to get to the shelters to save their own lives and that of their puppies.

Brutus – unable to take a corner and unable to stop

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘Does anyone know where I am?’ Brutus yelled as his legs carried him outside the containment fence. Galloping along resembling a wonky donkey, people were laughing and cheering him on. ‘Vader, where am I?’ Brutus shouted, pretending not to be embarrassed, as though it were all part of the ‘big plan’ but secretly he was farting himself with nerves as his legs wouldn’t stop running and he found himself chasing the lure from the wrong side of the fence.

Brutus (where am I?)

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘Yeah! go on my son!’ A large Saluki shouted from the sidelines as a gang of terriers barked insults at various invisible dogs, but don’t mind them, they were just having a ‘short dog syndrome’ episode.

Several of the Iggies had gathered round to watch Brutus joining the ranks of the ‘break free’ club which was started by the black Afghan that my husband compares to a black silken cloth floating down the race track. Now when that dog escaped it was quite spectacular – especially when it rolled in horse shit, my husband still laughs about that.

The famous Afghan hound – AKA ‘the silken cloth dog’

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘Brutus has broken out!’ Fletch shouted excitedly as Pippin looked up from what he was doing and tried to keep a straight face. This was the one thing that every single dog aspired to do and that was to break out from the containment fence and have a good old run round a polo field and if they can find horse shit to roll in then that is a bonus.

‘Good job!’ Pippin grinned and then remembered his position of sensibility in society and that he had a reputation to uphold.

(sounds of Italian greyhounds giggling)

‘Oh my god our very own Brutus has broken out’ Rocco roared and at that point was so proud that he forgot to argue with his invisible friend and started to bark with excitement.

‘Brutus where are you?’ Vader shouted while looking round for his friend.

At that moment the girls opened the barrier for Brutus to run back in to and rejoin Vader. As he went back in everyone clapped and cheered him while Brutus muttered ‘Thank God for that, I thought I would never find you!’

‘Let’s play!’ Vader grinned and then flicked his tongue on Brutus’s back leaving a trail of mucous and snot that could easily stick up wallpaper.

‘Yee ha! Did I win? – this has to be worthy of the Good Boy Award!’ Brutus shouted happily as he and Vader ran around each other joyously oblivious to everyone else.

‘That was so much fun, can we go again?’ Vader replied and then tried to pick his tongue back up as it fell out of his mouth on to the grass.

Vader and Brutus playing on the race track – check out the snot on Brutus

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘Now that, was priceless!’ Bailey said to Mac who was laughing so hard that he actually pissed himself.

‘Who is due to escape next?’ Bailey asked Mac who was cleaning himself up.

‘Oh that’s easy – It’s Melissa’s Staffords’ Mac nodded, ‘Can’t wait for that one’

Bailey laughed and took a drink of water from his bowl before spluttering it out through his nostrils as he was still laughing about Brutus.

Penny the Scottie dog (the pelmet on wheels with a fine set of ‘furnishings’)

Penny the Scottie dog who has been mentioned before was turning out to be quite a character on the race circuit.

With what can only be described as an ‘angry’ beard and a ‘furious’ set of eyebrows, the solid little black terrier stood proud in her white collar with red trim and black Scottie dogs printed down the side, finishing the look with a black and pink harness on her back.

Whilst our little lure coursing club is very multi cultural in terms of doggy nationalities, very few of the other dogs had heard a Scottish accent before and when Penny started to talk, they all stopped to listen.

(Imagine the following being spoken in a soft Scottish Highlander accent)

‘Well it is all very nice here isn’t it, what are we meant to do – chase that plastic bag?’ Penny asked and then started to rifle around in her handbag and offer some Scottish treats around to the other dogs.

‘Would you like a sweetie?’ Penny asked the other dogs who were looking back in amusement.

What on earth is a ‘sweetie’? – they were all wondering but if it went in your mouth then it couldn’t be that bad, unless it was a heart-worm table and then you had to be pretty desperate to enjoy one of those (OK, Brutus enjoys them but don’t tell him I told you that).

Before Penny had the chance to hand out any more ‘sweeties’ as she called them, she was led up to the starting point to start her race.

‘Excuse me young man, could you not look at my bottom!’ Penny said in a firm no-nonsense Scottish accent at a young ridgeback that had never seen such a furry anus in all his life.

‘OK, how hard can this be, hold on a minute, could somebody please tidy up the course, there is a plastic bag left lying around’ Penny demanded to nobody in particular.

‘The plastic bag is meant to be there, that is what you chase!’ shouted one of the greyhounds while the others laughed.

‘Well if you don’t mind, it is all very untidy and I like to keep a clean house’ Penny replied.

Penny actually reminds me of my Scottish friend Sandra and trust me on this, there is nothing quite like Sandra when she is on a cleaning mission and once the cleaning mission has ended, she is on an ironing mission and even irons underpants, in fact she would iron visitors if they stood still long enough and nobody had facial creases in her house.

You simply do not mess with a Scottish person on a cleaning mission because there is nothing quite like being told off by someone with a Scottish accent.

Before she knew it Penny’s owners had released her to chase the lure and all thoughts of handing out ‘sweeties’ and tidying up the grass had gone out of her head and she ran as fast as her stumpy legs would carry her.

‘Oh dear, oh dear, where did the plastic bag go?’ Penny squeaked in a high pitched voice as she glided down the track looking like like she was on wheels where her legs were hidden by the ‘Scottie dog’ traditional ‘furnishings’.

‘That looks like a curtain pelmet on wheels’ Rogue the staffie said looking highly confused.

‘You leave her furnishings alone!’ said a miniature schnauzer looking somewhat insulted as he had some pretty fine ones himself.

Rogue looked at Millie who was staring at Penny in awe and whispered ‘Pelmet on wheels’ and then added ‘But super cute all the same’.

‘Penny – the pelmet on wheels’

(Photography by Studio Joy)

And for her first time at lure coursing, she did very well indeed and by the time she had finished her run, quite a gang of dogs had gathered round the barrier to cheer her on.

‘Well that was very nice thank you’ Penny gasped as she was led off the track looking somewhat dishevelled, and then added ‘Can I do it again?’

‘What breed of dog is that?’Millie the border collie asked Vader.

Vader who was trying hard to impress Millie, replied confidently ‘A tartan one’. Looking more than a little puzzled, Millie mouthed the word ‘Tartan?’ and wondered whether or not to question Vader but decided not to.

After all Vader was a dog of the world and had been in Star Wars movies and even Superman movies, that is what he told her and if he said it was true, then it had to be.

Astro the greyhound (AKA – the ‘pole breaker’)

Astro the greyhound is as serious about lure coursing as Abigail who won the ‘Fastest Dog in Australia’ contest.

Nothing stops Astro and when I say nothing, I mean it literally as Astro is a true sportsman as most greyhounds are.

I was standing by the fence and actually saw this happen and it was almost in slow motion for me as I prayed that this dog would not hurt himself and how he didn’t is nothing short of a miracle.

Astro ran with such passion and all the other greyhounds were cheering him on as they always did when quite suddenly he hit one of the plastic poles that had a wooden stick inserted through it that was stuck in the ground.

‘Oh shit!’ Astro shouted and before he could say anything else, he jumped high into the air as the stick snapped in half through the tubing and part of it came out.

‘I can’t look, is he OK?’ Brutus asked Vader nervously. Vader didn’t reply as he had covered his own eyes while little Millie the border collie was nervously looking around wondering whether or not to go down and help but as her Mum had just bought a bacon roll, Millie thought it safer to remain where she was and ‘assist’ her Mum in eating it.

Astro – the pole breaker!

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘It’s OK everyone, it’s OK!’ Astro shouted as he quickly regained composure, looked at the broken fence post as though it had assaulted him before continuing the course like a ‘boss’ as the other dogs clapped and cheered in support.

‘Impressive, highly impressive’ said Mac as Bailey nodded in agreement.

‘It’s turning out to be quite good today I reckon’ Amira the ridgeback thought to herself before leaning around to wash her arse in a most un-ladylike fashion.

‘Nice one Astro, nice one!’ Brutus and Vader congratulated the greyhound as he was led off the course after finishing his run.

‘Phew! that was close – nearly made myself into a spit-roast’ Astro laughed nervously as his long legs were literally shaking from shock as his owner took him away to get a drink and thank his lucky stars he was OK.

‘Did someone say food?’ A chunky Labrador that had heard the words ‘spit-roast’; asked after being momentarily roused from his slumber as all good Labradors have to be on the lookout for food in whatever form it takes.

Abigail – (it’s only a flesh wound)

Abigail as you may remember, won the Fastest Dog in Australia competition. A senior greyhound with a passion for lure coursing, food and cuddles from her Mum.

Abigail – ‘Fastest Dog in Australia’ title holder

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘Are we good to go, can I go yet?’ Abigail said in a manic voice as the other greyhounds had formed a crowd by the fence to support their friend.

When greyhounds do lure coursing, there is always a crowd at the side and it is usually a flurry of pointy snouts nodding sharply to the point they could almost be weapons of ‘snout destruction’.

‘Remember, if in doubt – chase it, if it doesnt stop chase it and if in doubt chase it again and if not, piss on it’ One greyhound said confidently while the others agreed passionately.

‘Good luck Abigail!’ Pippin shouted and gave the black greyhound the ‘thumbs up’ sign.

‘There goes our pride and joy of WA’ Pippin said proudly and suddenly wished that Mouse Norris was here to add her support.

Actually Abigail is a joy to watch on the track and really does enjoy the whole lure coursing experience. She and Mouse Norris have been known to meet up after dark and discuss racing tactics and ways of improving themselves.

When Mouse did her entry for Fastest Dog in Australia, Abigail broke free from her owner and gatecrashed Mouse’s session as she ran and while Mouse tried to ignore her, Abigail wasn’t having a bar of it and and thoroughly enjoyed herself running up and down trying to get the lure while Mouse told her to ‘piss off’ and pretend she wasn’t there.

Abigail with her trophy – age is no barrier for this girl

(Photography by Hannah Ruth Ogden)

Abigail was released for her turn and as the lure went past with Abigail in hot pursuit; I had the pleasure of watching her gallop with ease across the track whilst shouting ‘Catch me if you can losers!’

At first I didn’t realise what she had done but I saw her suddenly limp with her front left leg and then with her right hind leg.

‘I am OK, I am OK!’ Abigail cried as she lifted each leg in turn to try and carry on while shouting ‘Shit that hurts, I am OK! let me at that lure!’

It didn’t take a genius to see that she had really hurt herself but the adrenaline had kicked in and Abigail wanted to complete her race. Thankfully she was caught and reluctantly forced off the course, I say reluctantly – she was swearing her head off and using worse language than Rocco fighting a team of invisible dogs.

‘Oh no, she has hurt herself!’ One of the greyhounds gasped and then beckoned Pippin over to take control of the situation.

Grabbing his mobile phones and a tiny Iggy sized first aid kit containing nothing but a bandaid as that was all he could carry, Pippin ran down to the track just in time to see Abigail being carried off by her owner to the car to be driven to the emergency vet.

‘It’s OK, it’s just a flesh wound – I will be fine, who needs toes anyway, they are overrated!’ Abigail ranted loudly.

The Samoyed (AKA ‘The Town Crier’) was already on the case and had invented her own version of events and was shouting ‘The greyhound has lost all of her legs but don’t worry, she can still win the greyhound Derby!’

The Samoyed – ‘Town Crier’

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘What – all of her legs, really?’ Monty the Brussels Griffon gasped.

The Samoyed nodded and replied firmly ‘Yes Abigail has lost at least 6 of her legs in that race’.

Monty ran up to his brother Dozer the boxer ‘Dozer, do dogs have 6 legs?’ Dozer couldn’t think of a reply so he choked on his tongue as he tried not to laugh as that was a question that made even a boxer sound intelligent.

Monty – a dog of many legs

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘Lure coursing newsflash – greyhound injured, call the medics!’ the Samoyed shouted to a puzzled audience of Italian greyhounds and of course all the dramatics were enough to make Nica faint in a ‘pile of Iggy’ and Enzo bring her round with his handsomeness.

Things were somewhat more subdued after Abigail was carried off, even the Samoyed had stopped announcing stuff and couldn’t think of anything to talk about and that my friends is saying something.

The Great Iggy Run

Every lure coursing meet the Iggies have their own race ‘The Great Iggy Run’ which usually has a few humans in it for good measure. It is the highlight of the day watching these tiny fragile dogs run at various speeds down the track and when their humans compete, it totally ‘makes’ it.

Humans are welcome in the Great Iggy Run

(Photography by Diana Andersen – Animal Images Photography)

Brutus being their staunchest supporter, is always by the fence cheering them with his loud booming voice yelling as they run past.

It is always good to watch – especially Rocco who is known to shout ‘Bollocks, you are all fat and you are all ugly’ as he runs past the dogs watching at the side.

Bronte has been known to flash her ‘lady-garden’ and Pippin having won the Fastest Iggy in Australia, gets the cheers for doing the Iggy group proud. So it is good to watch and the little dogs look so comical as they run along, Fletch always waves to everyone as he goes by and the other Iggies just squeal with delight as this is THEIR time to shine.

If you ever get the chance to go to see them run, you will hear them squeaking in their high pitched voices – a bit like the little people in ‘Wizard of Oz’ where they sound as though they have breathed in large volumes of helium, really it is quite fabulous.

‘Your arse is grass’ Bronte said to Pippin, vowing to steal his title of fastest dog.

‘Who on earth taught you that profanity?’ Pippin demanded as he stretched ready to be released for the race. ‘Or don’t I need to ask that?’

‘Don’t look at me, why are you looking at me, I always get the blame!’ Rocco shouted in a voice that screamed ‘Guilty as sin’ and then shouted ‘Anal gland face!’ while Bronte giggled as it was indeed Rocco that taught her to say that and much more that Pippin didn’t know about yet.

The great Iggy race – highlight of the day

(Photography by Studio Joy)

Bronte actually beat Pippin in this run and did very well indeed. Pippin cried ‘foul’ because Bronte wore such a short dress that it was suggested that the boys were led into temptation.

Madam Gigi and Nica were on Bronte’s side but Enzo and the rest of the boys were on Pippin’s but they have all insisted that there is no need for Bronte to stop wearing such short dresses as they are all entitled to a nice ‘view’.

Bronte in her dress

(Photography by Studio Joy)Pippin doing his race (the little dog with a big heart)

(Photography by Studio Joy)

After the Great Iggy Run, all the Iggies all went back to the Iggy tent to regroup and Pippin was to be awarded his certificate for the Fastest Italian Greyhound in Australia and had to walk up to accept the certificate which made him blush as he was a humble dog that did not like ‘bigging’ himself up so to speak.

‘Speech! Speech!’ Rocco shouted while Fletch slammed his water bowl on the floor and replied ‘Here here!’ ‘Come on Pippin, give us few words!’

Madam Gigi smiled at the little Iggy that ran his group with a paw of iron but also looked on them as his family and he would do anything for them.

Bronte sat proudly in the corner wiping tears from her pointy face and tried hard not to openly cry.

Such displays of restraint did not go unnoticed by Nica who loved a bit of dramatics and decided to dig out a white silken handkerchief and cry as well.

‘You are not going to vomit are you?’ Bronte asked Nica, really there was no place for vomit at lure coursing because there was always another dog to eat the offerings and that ruined the dramatics of it all.

I mean what is the point in vomiting if some scabby dog is going to snarf it down straight afterwards so nobody sees it?

‘I would like to thank my servant (Mum) who buys me nice clothes from Spoiled Bratz and loves me. I would like to thank my sister Bronte and everyone in the Iggy group and their owners that love me as much as I love them’.

Pippin looked round at the ‘Pointy snout brigade’ as he fondly referred to them – greyhounds, whippets and Iggies all standing there to see him get his certificate and he was so proud he felt sure that his chest would burst.

‘Who wins the ‘Good Boy Award’? Bronte asked.

‘The same dog that always wins it as he is the only one that he can win!’ Rocco said while laughing.

‘Don’t be horrible Rocco, it’s his award and he loves winning it!’ Madam Gigi replied, Nica and Fletch nodded in support.

Pippin smiled and said in a voice loud enough for Brutus to hear ‘And the Good Boy Award for this month, goes to Brutus!’

Brutus who was washing his bottom, suddenly lifted his head up and said ‘Did someone say my name? Have I won the Good Boy Award, that is awesome!’

The Good Boy Award is something that has been invented just for Brutus as he doesn’t win any other awards and as he is so naughty to the point of cute, he qualifies for the Good Boy Award.

This gentle giant of a dog that doesnt have a bad bone in his body, he is scared of his own shadow and especially scared of the Iggies and although this dog has made my garden resemble a desert and eaten my plants, he is my ‘Good Boy’ and deserves this fictitious award.

‘To Brutus the Good Boy!’ Bronte shouted to Brutus as the other dogs all clapped for him.

My favourite ‘Good Boy’ photo of Brutus

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

Although the other dogs had to endure this pretend award at each race meet, not one of them really begrudged Brutus because it was worth it to see his face each and every time he received it because never has a dog been so grateful for recognition and acceptance as Brutus.

Pippin checks out Brutus on the computer for the Good Boy Award

(Photography by Denise Pringle)

Pippin was about to finish up his speech but then remembered something important he had to say.

‘But one thing before before we all go home, please can we spare a thought to Abigail who has been rushed to the veterinary hospital with her injury that she got doing what she loves best and the reason why we are all here – lure coursing’.

One by one the greyhounds, the whippets, and the Iggies all started to clap and shout out ‘To Abigail!’. What started off as a smallish gathering started to spread as other dogs gathered round and they too started shouting ‘To Abigail’ until every dog on the track was saying it and it became so loud that any human would have had to be deaf and daft not to have heard and more to the point, understood what the those dogs were saying.

‘To Abigail!’ Brutus and Vader said to each other while Millie the border collie wiped the tomato sauce off her face from robbing her Mum’s burger, so that she could also pay her respects to the senior greyhound that injured herself that day.

And that was how the lure coursing day ended.

Abigail Update

Abigail was taken to the vet and given pain relief and X-rays which revealed two badly dislocated toes on her left hind and one minor dislocated toe on her front left foot. She was sent home with her injuries strapped up and the injuries would be monitored.

Abigail (strapped up after her injury)

(Photography by Hannah Ruth Ogden)

Sadly for Abigail; a couple of her toes did not heal as well as was hoped and on the 25th September, she had to have her two middle toes amputated in order to give her the best chance of mobility and a normal life.

Abigails initial X-Rays

(X-Rays – Malibu Veterinary Hospital Radiology)

Like any finely tuned athlete, Abigail was somewhat pissed off with this, especially when Mouse Norris, Barbie and Bender offered to make her some callipers to assist her. This was made worse by Brutus offering to push her around in a wheelchair with a tartan blanket around her legs while Rocco could stand next to her with a tin demanding money for ‘dogs for the disabled’.

Bentley had gone one better and was suggesting that the Iggies tell everyone that Abigail lost her toes in the war but that idea was quickly quashed by Pippin.

Abigail after her anaesthetic (has anyone seen my tongue?)

(Photography by Hannah Ruth Ogden)

‘How on earth will I manage without my toes?’ Abigail sobbed when some of the dogs came to visit her after her surgery.

Mouse was busy throwing dog biscuits at Rocco to incite a reaction so that she could tempt him into arguing with his invisible friend for a laugh while Bender was asking Bronte to pull his paw so that he could fart a selection of nasty smelling guffs.

Really though; it was no good trying to console Abigail about her missing toes, she was still drowsy and in pain and could not yet understand that the surgery had been done for the best.

‘Will you all still be my friend when I have my toes chopped off?’ Abigail asked Barbie. ‘Of course I will, don’t be daft – I don’t mind being friends with an amputee’ Barbie said firmly – she had actually decided that it would be quite trendy doing her bit for the disabled.

‘I can’t do lure coursing any more’ Abigail muttered drowsily to Pippin.

‘You might not be able to do it but you can still come and be the team mascot’ Pippin said thoughtfully.

‘That’s not a bad idea actually’ Rocco grinned, ‘We can put her high on a stretcher decorated in gold and carry her around’.

‘We can buy her a buggy and make it look like the Pope Mobile!’ Vader shouted, forgetting that he had put his tongue away for the night as it fell out and hit his chest.

‘Would you do that for me?’ Abigail said in a weak and tired voice, really her friends were just the best.

The dogs all looked at one another and smiled as Pippin said ‘Of course we would, you are our friend, why would we not help?’

‘You can sit at the Iggy stand and be like the Queen’ Bronte said excitedly.

‘And I can teach you how to vomit for effect’ Nica added.

‘Nica – no!’ Fletch and Apollo shouted out together just as Rocco rubbed his paws in glee at the thought of all those hungry dogs that could benefit.

And that was that, it was decided that one way or another Abigail would still go lure coursing and her friends would always be there to support her – just as it should be.

Thanks and acknowledgements

I would like to thank each and every dog owner and their dogs for coming to the lure coursing event and inspiring me to write about them. I do try to include as many dogs as I can in different stories.

Thank you to West Coast Dog Sports for organising this wonderful sport and giving our dogs the chance to take part and for the owners to socialise and make such good friends.

Thank you to the Italian greyhound community as this breed of dog gets to my imagination more than any other breed. Little dogs with huge characters and yes, Rocco really does argue with himself and Pippin is the organiser of them all.

Thanks to everyone that has supplied me with their photographs because they truly make the story come to life when you can put a face to a name.

Amy Joy – Studio Joy Photography

Amy Joy is one of the regular photographers at West Coast Dog Sports and works tirelessly to get the incredible and unique shots of our beautiful dogs.

Amy kindly allows me to use her watermarked photographs for my blog and for that I am grateful as she captures the moments that I describe just perfectly – for example, what happened to Astro the greyhound and Brutus when he escaped, not to mention Penny the Scotty dog floating down the track like a curtain pelmet.

Amy is a student at Curtin University studying Digital Design and Illustration and Photography Design. Not only is she building up her portfolio for her coursework but she is also now offering a professional service as a pet photographer.

This talented young photographer has made so many people happy with the outstanding photographs of their dogs, that owners are requesting personal shoots for their pets.

I have the pleasure of watching Amy work at lure coursing events and get to see the quality of the photographs that she takes and I would not hesitate to recommend her services.

If you live in Perth and are interested in booking a photo shoot for your pet, Amy’s details are as follows:

Amy Joy

M: 0430 549 346

E: amyjoy2213@gmail.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PhotographyStudioJoy

Charges are: $100 for a 30 minute – 1 hour session which includes a disc with all the edited images on there. Amy will go to a location that suits the clients i.e. a park, beach, etc.

Help for Abigail and her Owner – Hannah Ruth Ogden

Abigail – any help appreciated

(Photography by Studio Joy)

Abigail’s veterinary bills as you can imagine; are very high – the amputated toes alone cost in the region of $1,000 and that is not including the initial emergency visit to the vets, strapping and follow up visits, pain relief, dressing changes and antibiotics etc.

Although Abigail’s owner has not asked for any financial help, I do happen to know that Hannah is struggling to find the money to cover the bills and when you don’t have a lot of money for whatever reason, this amount is a huge expense.

I also happen to know that Hannah loves her dog to distraction and if there is one thing that I will never forget and that is seeing Hannah’s face when she realised how badly Abigail was injured and watching her struggle as she carried her precious greyhound to the car.

Greyhounds are so easily discarded in the racing industry and Abigail is one of the lucky ones to have a good loving home with Hannah who obviously treasures this senior greyhound and the bond between them is clear for all to see.

Anyway, if you would like to help towards Abigail’s veterinary bills, any donations would gratefully be received. Hannah’s bank account details are as follows:

Bank: Bankwest

BSB: 306 097

Account No: 0377985

As I have said, Hannah has not asked for anything; this is purely my idea. I just know that things are hard for her at the moment and I also know what it is like to struggle. It doesn’t mean we don’t love our pets any less, it doesn’t mean we are neglectful, it just means our situation has changed and we could use a little help.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright Sept 2014

All photographs remain the copyright of the photographers – please do not use, print or reproduce any of them without the consent of the photographer concerned.

Lure Coursing and a day of mourning (according to Barney)

Posted on September 20, 2014 by Samantha Rose

Hi everyone – sorry it has been ages since I did any stories on lure coursing which as you know is a huge part of my life (not sure if that is sad or not but either way I love the sport and it’s my highlight of the month).

You may remember that I have been working on a story from the last lure coursing meet which is the second instalment from the last story. Due to some personal stuff and health issues, it has been taking me ages to write but I will try and finish it in the next week or so. It is annoying as I normally get them written up straight after lure coursing but this one has been a challenge.

Now a lure coursing meet was planned for this Sunday 21st September but bad weather has been predicted for Perth and yesterday it was declared cancelled due to safety reasons.

You all know the dogs in my story and how badly they would have taken this news and as soon as we heard last night, I had to write the story up immediately as the dogs were threatening a canine uprising.

It’s funny how when I try and plan a story in the organised methodical way that other writers do, I get lost and I struggle with it (especially when illness is a factor). But give me a last minute bit of news that I find inspiring and I can bang out 3,500 words in 3 hours no worries and write the story as thoughts come into my head. But hey ho, we are all different in our own ‘special’ way.

Anyway, as you can imagine the dogs were not happy and I have been inspired to write about it from their point of view and I can only go on what they have told me.

*This story contains adult content and is NOT suitable for children*

It was a typical Friday night before lure coursing. The dogs were in their respective homes planning strategies, clothes, fashion, who would steal sausages, who would make their bid for freedom, who would go all ‘rock n’ roll’ and trash their crate and try and beat Dozer the boxers efforts at the last meet.

At the Iggy Head Quarters – Pippin’s House

Pippin was busy reading a magazine and doing a crossword. Wearing his half rimmed spectacles, he was highlighting areas with an orange pen that may be of interest – stuff like obedience and the modern day Iggy and designer collars.

Pippin – ‘the organiser’

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

Bronte was on the phone to Nica, they were planning the next Iggy play date and having girly gossip about the latest in SpoiledBratz fashion labels and ‘Diva Pantz’.

At the House of Mouse

Mouse Norris was chewing on Benders leg who had his nose on Barbie’s bum, the cat was just watching in disgust at how 3 large dogs could be quite so revolting.

‘I am so going to set the grass alight when I run, it’s been far too long’ Mouse said confidently to Bender. Admiring her long slim white legs, Mouse didn’t need to try and impress anyone because she did so effortlessly.

‘Mouse, you are SO big headed’ Bender said sounding a bit jealous of his nimble sister.

‘Yep, I know but you love me all the same’ Mouse replied confidently.

‘Ouch!, do you mind!’ Mouse squeaked as Bender nipped her on the arse.

‘Yes Mouse, I love you’ Bender grinned and then farted for payback and then added ‘But you are such a big head’.

‘Someone’s shit themselves’ Barbie shouted dramatically as Bender and Mouse snorted with laughter at the sheer vulgarity of it all.

Brutus’s House

Brutus – dreams of lure coursing

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

Brutus and Rocky had just enjoyed a meal of dog chow, raw kangaroo, beef and lamb and were lying on their beds digesting their meal.

‘Try not to crash through the barrier this time’ Rocky said to Brutus.

Brutus the fence breaker

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘Oh that, it was all part of my trick’ Brutus replied, blushing because he was lying. He had crashed through that barrier twice now, the first time he actually tore it.

‘Shame Vader can’t come lure coursing’ Brutus said fretfully and started to wash his genitals in such noisy fashion that Gordon the cat had to check he wasn’t having a second meal.

Dee’s House

Mac and Bailey were on the Internet checking their Facebook – and yes they do have Facebook as do all dogs.

‘Have you seen this message from Melissa?’ Mac whispered to Bailey who was admiring himself in between farting.

‘What’s up?’ Bailey replied without even looking up.

‘This is awful, this is truly awful – I cannot believe it, it must be wrong, I shall call Melissa’s Stafford’s’ Mac said sounding very distressed and trust me it takes a lot to distress Mac.

‘Oh come on lad, it can’t be that bad – don’t be such a drama queen’ Bailey snapped and then had a look at the computer himself. Gasping loudly Bailey could barely find the words but when he did, they were not polite ones.

‘Bloody hell, that’s a shitter!’ Bailey said and then looked around to the puppies and wondered how the hell he was going to break the news to them and also Amy’s ridgebacks as well – in fact, all the ridgebacks in the group, Amira would be devastated and as for Patricia Gleeson’s ridgies – he was sure that they would declare war on the situation.

Melissa’s House

Melissa’s Stafford’s had already been told the news and in their protest; had locked themselves in their kennels and were now unreachable. Their little Staffie mobile phones were ringing frantically, their emails in overload but to no avail. These dogs were officially in mourning and nothing and I mean nothing would cheer them up.

At Various Other Dogs Houses

Benny and Isis the Pharaoh Hounds were playing strip poker and whoever lost had to remove their collar. Benny loved this game as he always beat Isis and he so loved seeing her without her collar.

‘Can’t wait to see Brutus on Sunday, it’s going to be fab!’ Benny said happily as he smoothed his ears down. The Pharaoh hound had a huge soft spot for the clumsy young dog.

Both he and Brutus had become firm friends right from day one and they thoroughly enjoyed one another’s company while discussing anal glands and bones.

Brutus and Benny the Pharaoh Hound – best mates

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

Willow the French Bulldog was so overexcited that she wanted to piss herself, she loved lure coursing and truly believed that she had wings under her little legs and if you could see her running then you would see what I mean. Willow was ‘match fit’ and had been seen doing squat jumps and press ups in a bid to warm up for Sunday.

Ex Cop Dog, Belgian Millinois ‘Z’ loved her lure coursing so much that she had to be bribed to get off the course with a padded arm like the cops use.

‘ZZ’ the ex cop dog – (she knows Rumble the WA police dog I bet)

(Photography by Studio Joy)

You can always spot her shouting obscenities like ‘I will eat you – you bastard’ and she gets so hyped up after chasing the lure that she has been known to hang on to the padded arm and get carried off the course while shouting ‘Let me at that lure, you are going in the slammer’.

‘I can’t wait for Sunday’ ‘Z’ thought to herself and then tried to savage a pillow and arrest it afterwards for ‘resisting arrest’.

Millie’s House

Millie the Border collie was lying on her bed playing a game of strategies. This is a home made game that Millie invented for herself about various ways she can increase her speeds, she was proud of her invention and did very well in the Fastest Dog in Australia competition which she put down to this game.

Millie the border collie plans her strategy

(Photography by Belinda)

‘I can’t wait to run, I can’t wait to see Brutus and Chewy and I can’t wait to share Mum’s burger’ Millie thought to herself.

Basically it was every dogs right to enjoy a bit of their owners burgers/sausage and stuff the diet, as what happens at lure coursing, stays in lure coursing – according to Brutus who was told that by Dee’s ridgebacks.

And if a dog goes home with gastro and shits in the laundry room, then they just blame the invisible German Shepherd dogs that go around the world making dog beds explode and other such naughty things.

Pippin’s House

‘Pippin, your phone is ringing’ Bronte yelled to Pippin who was doing a Skype call with Rocco, Bentley, Amex, Toppa, Madam Gigi, Rambow and Dash – the topic being that Dash had lost his testicles and was forced to wear the cone of shame.

Dash – wearing his cone of shame

(Photography by Kylie Elaine Woodward)

Rocco had laughed heartily about this and had convinced poor young Dash that his testicles had in fact been sold to Cash Converters, and Pippin was trying to undo the mental damaged caused by Rocco but that is another story.

‘I’m coming!’ Pippin shouted and then said to the camera where all of his friends were on a conference call; ‘Back in a sec, I won’t disconnect you’

‘So Nica, have you vomited lately?’ Bronte asked Nica who had vomiting for attention down to a fine art.

‘Not in 3 days but I am working on teaching Zara the puppy to do it’ Nica sighed happily. Really it was quite a skill because the key was not to actually vomit up your hard earned food but just make it as though you are and it was awesome the attention it got you.

‘What did you say?’ Pippin gasped loudly enough to stop Bronte chatting to Nica and all the dogs on the conference video call to stop discussing Dash’s non-existent testicles.

‘Are you OK Pippin?’ Bronte asked her brother. Pippin looked visibly shaken and grabbed his iPhone and quickly started checking diary dates and reorganizing things.

‘Everyone, I have an announcement to make’ Pippin said in a firm voice.

(Ten minutes later)

‘That is awful’ Bronte sobbed to Nica who was shaking her pointy snout in grief.

‘I can’t believe it, does Mouse Norris know yet, and the others?’ Rocco said in a panicked voice.

‘Not yet, I have to tell the big fella first’ Pippin said sadly.

‘Oh my goodness, yes, we have to tell Brutus’ Bronte cried and then looked at Madam Gigi down the camera for support.

‘Bronte, is this an appropriate time to vomit now?’ Nica said in a high-pitched voice of an Iggy who is about to make a scene.

‘Yes, Nica – I think it is’ Said Bronte.

‘Thank you’ Nica replied simply and then without warning puked up an entire bowl of dog chow all over the floor while Zara shouted ‘Eughhh, that is disgusting – can I eat it?’

At Brutus’s House

Brutus was so excited that he was beside himself, he wouldn’t sleep for excitement and may even fart if it got too much. He is always like this before lure coursing and gets up stupidly early to jog around the garden while singing ‘You can’t touch this’.

His velvet smooth brown jowls, his huge brown eyes, shiny black leather-like nose and pointy ears, he could give Scooby Doo a run for his money he was sure of that.

At 22 months old, Brutus is still a puppy with lots of baby behaviors, still prone to throwing himself on the ground, still crying if you take his puppy blanket away and knows each and every toy that is on his bed and god help you if you remove one.

A dog of routine, he has to have 3 carrots a day, enjoys washing his kelpie brothers mouth and Gordon the cats ears – my big brown gentle giant of a dog Brutus.

He is not a brave dog and I had better not say too much about Rocco and Bentley plus a few others ganging up on him last week barking at him and calling him a ‘big girls blouse’, so don’t tell him I told you that.

Pippin puts Brutus in his place

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

‘Brutus, Pippin is on the phone for you, I think it is about Sunday’ Rocky shouted to Brutus who was busy chewing Tony Abbotts genitals (his Tony Abbott doll silly!)

‘I am a champion and I am going to win the Good Boy Award’ The Good Boy Award is something that I have invented; that I award to Brutus to make him feel special, I taught him that months ago and he has never forgotten it either.

He gets that award every month, sometimes twice a month and all I can say is it is a good job there is no trophy attached to it, as my house would be full of them.

‘Brutus, are you listening – Pippin is on the phone for you!’ Rocky said sharply and dropped the phone on Brutus’s bed and walked off to his own bed to finish his carrot.

‘Hi Pippin, are you excited? I am excited, god I am so excited I might have gastro’ Brutus said happily.

‘Brutus, I am really sorry lad but I have some bad news for you’ Pippin said quietly.

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

Brutus sat quietly clutching the phone and his happy smiling face just fell and his jowls sagged and his bottom lip hung down like the bottom of a wash hand basin.

‘But that’s not fair’ Brutus stuttered to Pippin down the phone.

‘I know lad, I know but we can’t control the weather’ Pippin tried to reason with the heartbroken young dog who simply could not and would not understand why his most favourite event next to washing Vader’s genitals had been cancelled.

‘Brutus, are you OK?’ Pippin said after a few minutes.

A distraught Brutus takes to his bed

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

But there was no answer because Brutus had dropped the phone on the floor, gone back to his bed and had curled up clutching his Tony Abbott doll and a crumpled photo of him with his friends at the polo grounds at the last lure coursing meet.

And quite suddenly the big brown dog looked very small, very sad and actually quite vulnerable.

Rocky went over to Brutus to check on him, he was going to call him a ‘girly arsed bastard’ for taking it so bad but when he saw Brutus’s normally happy face look so resigned, he thought better of it and went back to his own bed.

At the House of Mouse

Mouse Norris – checking out UK greyhound Derby winners

(Photography by Jet Ska)

Mouse was lying on her bed while looking at pictures of greyhound derby winners of the UK. Pretending that the news didn’t bother her, she faked a non-committal smile as Barbie kept stuffing her snout up Benders bum.

‘You OK Mouse?’ Bender asked his sister who was staring vacantly at the wall.

(no answer)

‘I think she is upset’ Barbie nodded to Bender.

‘I think you are right although it’s only lure coursing, god knows why she loves it so much’ Bender sighed.

And if looks could turn a dog to turd, Bender would be diarrhea with the look that Mouse gave him.

At QLD Headquarters – Barney’s House

‘Yes Pippin, I will pass on the news. Devastating my friend, we all know how the dogs look forward to their lure coursing and one can never turn down a piece of sausage either’ Kath said on the phone to Pippin.

‘What was that all about?’ Ruby the kelpie asked as Kath the greyhound got off the phone.

‘Lure coursing has been cancelled in Perth due to bad weather predicted for Sunday’ Kath said in a sad voice.

Barney, who was lying on his back doing silent farts, suddenly sat upright and said ‘That is tragic, we should declare it a National Disaster’.

And for once, Kath and Ruby agreed with him.

Barney declares it a National Disaster

(Photography by Sandra Burrows)

Somewhere in the Northern Territory where the crocs are big, the kangaroos have attitude and the dingoes do roam

A couple of dingoes were having a beer and a joint around the campfire; several kangaroos were hanging around as well. It is like that in the outback you see – all the animals socialize together and don’t have the hang-ups about differences that we humans have.

‘Have you heard that the lure coursing has been cancelled for Perth?’ One large red kangaroo said in between swigging his beer and inhaling on his joint.

The dingoes looked up in shock ‘Really, are you serious – now that is a disaster’ One of the dingoes replied.

The kangaroos nodded in agreement while one muttered ‘Poor bastards’

And with that sentiment, they all took a mouthful of beer and shook their heads in sympathy.

Pippin’s House

A huge video conference call on the same scale as the Fastest Dog in Australia Finals was taking place in Pippin’s house. Wide screen computers, laptops – Skype calls on mobiles, you name it – Pippin’s house was the hub of activity.

‘But Pippin, what are we going to do on Sunday now we are not lure coursing?’ Poppy the Chinese Crested demanded to know.

Poppy the Chinese Crested pup

(Photography by Tanya Bennett)

Shimmer the poodle was smoking a French cigarette in one of those glamorous plastic holders, her husky voice from too much brandy and smoke filled the air and for effect she put on a French accent to gain attention.

‘We must have something to do on Sunday’ Shimmer said in a loud voice sounding like a mix of Gerard Depardieu and Manu from ‘My Kitchen Rules’.

Shimmer the poodle (with a French accent0

(Photography by Jeni Sach)

Penny the Scottie dog appeared oblivious to the whole drama and was now handing out Tunnocks Tea Cakes and shortbread which have been known to solve all problems in the world, just as any Scottish person the power of a Tunnocks Tea Cake and shortbread.

‘Would you like a tea cake?’ Penny asked Rocco in her soft Scottish accent that made one think of the old program ‘Take the High Road’.

‘What’s a tea cake?’ Rocco asked and before Penny could answer, grabbed one and swallowed it whole so that his slender neck had a sort of round shape halfway down – just like in a cartoon.

Penny the Scotty dog

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘That’s it, I am going to shit the bed’ Rogue the Staffie threatened.

Brutus who had decided to join the conference call grinned at that point and offered to give Rogue tips; after all he was king of ‘shit the bed’ and could do it to order.

‘Well I for one am furious and demand to see my lawyer’ Chewy shouted as Millie the Border collie barked in agreement.

Chewy threatens lawyers

(Photography by Studio Joy)

Dee’s ridgebacks were too lazy to join the conference call but were yelling suggestions in the background much to Pippin’s horror. You all know Pippin, he likes things organized and everyone has their turn and there is a turn for everyone.

‘Mouse, any suggestions for Sunday?’ Pippin asked Mouse who was staring at her painted toenails and admiring them.

Shrugging her shoulders Mouse replied that no, she had no suggestions unless anyone had a cork to put up Benders arse to stop him farting.

‘Rocco – do you have anything to say?’ Pippin asked the angry Italian greyhound who was having an ‘angry-contest’ with Bentley who I may add gives Rocco a run for his money with Tourette’s as he has been known to run around the park insulting much bigger dogs and shouting things like ‘turd head’ at them.

Bentley the Italian Greyhound, he is prone to swearing and outbursts like Rocco

(Photography by Denise Pringle)

Ignoring Pippin, Rocco carried on talking to Bentley about an article they had read; called ’20 ways to insult a Labrador’.

Pippin clapped his paws together and said ‘OK then, if there is nothing more to be said, then we shall all plan for the next meeting in October and insist on double helpings of burgers as compensation for Sunday’s meet being cancelled.

‘Oh yes, and it has been decided by myself as head of the Iggy Group and general organizer of nothing in particular, that Brutus should win the Good Boy Award for this month’ Pippin added smiling at Brutus who was busy chewing his feet.

‘What again? He is the only one that wins that award’ Rocco snorted with laughter.

‘Shhhh, don’t upset him, he is still a baby and you know he throws himself on the floor and makes himself sick. Let him have his pretend award’ Nica hissed to Rocco as quietly as she could without Brutus overhearing.

Madam Gigi shook her head in disapproval, really Rocco was getting quite raucous and since he had made friends with Bentley, he had started wearing leather jackets and tight white T shirts and both boys had called themselves the ‘T Birds’ just like in the movie Grease and would chew gum in an insolent manner and smooth their ears back with hair gel.

Brutus reminds me of a racing greyhound I saw on TV in the UK once. This dog was the slowest dog ever so his trainer decided to run him on his own, complete with a crowd cheering and then praised him for being a winner and he even had his own trophy. Although the dog didn’t actually win any race as such, he was so pleased to hear the crowd cheering and get his trophy, he didn’t care that he was actually the slowest dog in the world.

That is how Brutus is you see, each time he gets the Good Boy Award, he is so proud and really believes it is real and of course in my eyes – it is.

All dogs deserve the Good Boy Award at some point in their lives and the more often you recognize them as ‘Good Boys’ (or girls), the better.

Brutus prays for his Good Boy Award

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

‘Did I really win that award?’ Brutus looked confused, staring at his friends on the conference calls, they all had enough compassion to agree that yes, he had won the Good Boy Award.

Brutus wagged his tail so hard and grinned at Benny the Pharaoh hound on video call and whispered ‘You see, I am a good boy’.

‘Right, if nobody has anything to say, then I declare this crisis meeting over’ Pippin smiled and then put his notepad down and 3 of his 6 mobile phones.

‘I have something I would like to say’ Rocco shouted loudly.

Sighing, Pippin responded ‘Yes Rocco’.

Rocco has the last word

(Photography by Samantha Rose)

‘Bollocks, great big fat hairy bollocks – to the lot of ya’ Rocco yelled and then flashed his bum to the camera.

And with that every dog in every house that was connected to that call, burst out laughing and clapped in appreciation of Rocco’s sense of humour and personality.

And that my friends; is how the meeting ended – on a good note which is how it always ends with these dogs.

They love their lure coursing; they love the socialization, the treats, the fuss, and the attention – catching up with their friends.

It’s not just a sport, it is a date for our social diaries both humans and dogs alike where after each meet, we all regroup on Facebook and dissect the day and discuss the funny moments and what our dogs got up to.

At each meeting you can guarantee that at least one dog will escape and make its bid for freedom. You can be assured that at least one dog will steal a sausage to the cheers and approval of their mates.

You can bet your life that Dee’s famous chocolate cake will be gone in seconds and everyone will enjoy the sausages/burgers as diets will be forgotten – because what happens at lure coursing stays at lure coursing (especially calories).

So now our dogs have sorted out their social calendar and have quickly moved on, it is over to you guys.

What shall we do this Sunday?

Have a lovely weekend.

Thank you to Amy from Studio Joy for kindly allowing me to use her beautiful photographs. Amy works tirelessly at West Coast Dog Sports spending hours taking photographs of our dogs and it is much appreciated by everyone.

If you are Perth based and are looking for an animal photographer, you can contact Amy via her Facebook page:

https://www.facebook.com/PhotographyStudioJoy?fref=ts

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright September 2014

All photographs are copyright, please do not reproduce or copy without the consent of the individual photographer.

The Night Before Lure Coursing August 2014

Posted on August 16, 2014 by Samantha Rose

It was the night before lure coursing and every dog in Perth had nervously gathered round their computers checking the weather on Facebook while praying that the rain would hold off so that their day of fun, hot dog consumption and ‘social butterflying’ could take place.

Bearing in mind that the last event was cancelled due to bad weather, the dogs still hadn’t gotten over that little episode as the whole thing was rather dramatic, especially when the ridgebacks crates were blown over and Dee’s ridgies escaped and were found in the kitchen along with a few substantially sized sausages but that is another story entirely.

At the House of Mouse

Mouse, Barbie and Bender had just come back from their extended holiday in kennels and having stuffed their faces and been rather lazy, it was decided that Mouse would not be competing in the lure coursing as she was out of condition.

Mouse Norris – threatening a hunger strike

(Photography by Jet Ska)

‘But I want to enter, they cannot possibly run the course if I am not there’ The little white greyhound sobbed dramatically and threw herself on the floor and pretended to faint while Barbie fanned her with a bit of paper and muttered ‘Now see what you have done!.

The mere thought of NOT lure coursing on Sunday was too much for Mouse to contemplate, perhaps they could erect a life size cut out in her absence or maybe she could be placed in a buggy and paraded up and down so people could cheer her on? She would ask Brutus and get his opinion.

It took a whole heap of comforting from her owner in order to calm her down and even the promise of another exploding bed could not placate her, she wanted to go to lure coursing and that was that and Mouse had already decided to go on a hunger strike for 2 hours to make a few ribs stick out – that would teach them!

Pippin’s House

Pippin was on his computer checking the weather page for updates. As the last meeting was cancelled, every dog known to man had gone in to a serious decline as it had been so long since their last lure coursing meet up, would they even remember each other?

‘Well, it says it will be OK in the morning but in the late afternoon there could be showers, but nothing is carved in stone as they say!’ Pippin said firmly and then took a delicate sip of water followed by a wiping of his pointy snout on his fleecy blanket.

‘I heard at the last meet, that all the dogs were blown away and that Vader and Brutus were actually blown along with Melissa’s Stafford’s down the Nullabor’ Bronte said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Pippin rolled his eyes and replied ‘Don’t exaggerate Bronte, everyone knows that Melissa’s Stafford’s floated away across the field on a bench and that Dee’s ridgebacks ended up in QLD’.

Bronte sighed and peered over Pippin’s shoulders to check out the weather for herself, after all – if this event ends up getting cancelled, she might be forced to do ‘whizzies’ round the garden, but then again, she does that anyway so perhaps not.

(sounds of Pippin’s phone ringing)

‘Hello? Mouse, good to hear from you, how was the holiday – all ready for Sunday?’ Pippin said in a super efficient which he reserved as a ‘special phone voice’ to impress people.

‘What do you mean? That isn’t possible – out of condition?, you have to come, even the lure won’t run without you!’ Pippin squeaked, his normal ‘cool’ reduced to flustered. Pippin hated it when his routine was messed up, he was ‘Mr Organized’ personified and if Mouse wasn’t going to lure coursing then he would have to re-organize everyone’s diaries.

Placing his fountain pen behind his ears, Pippin pursed his lips and started checking his iPhone to see just what he could do to make things ‘fit’. Actually Pippin didn’t need to make anything ‘fit’ as the day would run wonderfully – providing there was no rain, but you all know Pippin, he is a super organized ‘Personal Assistant of Life’ and would have God himself organized if he could, actually I believe he does have God organised as God told me he did.

But that was OK, Pippin still had Brutus and Vaders diaries to re-arrange not to mention keeping the other Italian greyhounds in order – especially Rocco who has dreadful Tourettes and can be seen on the lure coursing grounds swearing and barking at any dog that cares to listen and any dog that doesn’t and his favourite word is ‘bollocks’.

Pippin was secretly very excited about lure coursing because there is nothing quite like a gang of Iggies trying to run down the track, well we can’t count Fletch in this as Fletch makes it his mission to go as slow as possible.

It will also be Pippin’s first race since the ‘Fastest Dog in Australia’ competition and the other Iggies have planned to cheer him on when it comes to his turn to run so as you see, it is all going to kick off on Sunday at lure coursing – providing of course, it does not rain.

Pippin – in charge of everything really!

‘Pippin?’ Bronte asked her little brother.

‘Yes Bronte?’ Pippin replied.

‘Do you think it will rain?’ Bronte sighed, her little face so pointy that you could have dipped her snout in ink and written the word ‘Iggy’ with it.

‘Don’t know Bronte, I just don’t know’ Pippin sighed and crossed his little paws so tightly and secretly prayed that the rain would limit to falling on Tony Abbott’s head.

At Vader’s house

Vader and Brutus were having a play date which normally involves pulling down the underwear on Vader’s toys (yes toys wear undies), running round the garden, humping one another, arguing over a cows hoof and urinating over each other.

Caught with its pants down and yes, the dogs did it!

‘I don’t know what I will do if it rains, is there any way we can stop it?’ Brutus asked Vader before pissing on his head. Brutus was feeling quite fretful and totally devastated at the thought of not seeing his friends, let alone trying out the full course which involved corners/turns.

Vader lifted his head and stared at his new invisible boxer friend that he called ‘Frugal McGuff’.

Yes, I am afraid that Vader has an invisible friend that he often barked with, played with and argued with and his name was Frugal and I can testify that as I often hear Vader barking at fresh air in his garden and have come to accept the fact that dogs have invisible friends too.

And please don’t laugh at this, I bet you all had invisible friends as a child – I know I did, mine was called ‘Mr Manager’ who lived in Switzerland which was actually a camp that my Dad built out of sticks in the lane. I used to ride invisible horses around the estate with my best friend Nicola and we had the rising-trot down to an art form as well as slapping our thighs with a stick, but let’s not go there please as it is quite frankly embarrassing.

‘Vader do you love Frugal McGuff more than me?’ Brutus asked Vader. That was a hard one as Vader really did seem to enjoy arguing with his invisible friend and could be heard from over the fence barking and growling at him or with him and this made Brutus feel very insecure indeed. Brutus doesn’t have an invisible friend as such, but he does have a strange relationship with his toys and can be heard growling at them so I guess it is the same really.

Vader looked at Frugal and then at Brutus, he couldn’t quite make his mind up as Brutus was not with him 24/7 but Frugal McGuff could be wherever he imagined him to be. Frugal never judged him for making his beds explode and Frugal even took the blame for Vader’s naughtiness and Frugal never took the piss out of Vader’s exceedingly long tongue that was comparable to a slice of Christmas ham – as to quote Denise Pringle.

Vader – tongue like a Christmas ham!

However, Brutus was his best friend and nobody pissed on his head quite like Brutus did so that had to be something to consider surely?

‘I love Frugal’ Vader said with his huge fat tongue getting in the way. Brutus’s face crumpled; did he love him (Brutus) as well?

‘But I love you more and we will be best friends forever and ever!’ Vader grinned and then washed Brutus’s jowls which made Brutus so happy that he had no choice other than to piss down his own legs with excitement.

Best friends forever and ever!

‘Vader?’ Brutus asked the little boxer.

‘Yes Brutus?’ Vader replied while trying to reorganize his tongue and make it fit in his mouth.

‘Do you think it will rain on Sunday?’ Brutus asked again, thinking if he asked the question often enough, it would emphasize just how important it was for it to NOT rain on Sunday.

Vader looked thoughtfully at Brutus before picking up one of his toys, ‘Nope, I don’t think so’

‘But how can you tell?’ Brutus demanded impatiently.

‘Because it’s lure coursing day!’ Vader replied simply.

And nothing more was said on the subject as both boys decided to sniff the same spot of dirt to find out if anything exciting had left its mark since they last sniffed it five minutes ago.

Dee Cole’s House

Dee was busy making some of her famous cakes which she knew would go down well as they always did. There are absolutely zero calories in her cakes, once you cut the cake the calories fall out and that has been scientifically proven by some expert so I hear.

Dee’s ridgebacks were pretending to be good dogs but secretly Mac was planning how he could do ‘the great escape’ again and was trying to orchestrate an enormous large gust of wind to tip the crates over.

This was proving a problem as gusts of wind are not that easy to come by and it is not as though you can buy them in ‘Big W’ either. Then it was suggested that Brutus be fed some Savoy cabbage and baked beans so that he could create a suitable gust of wind. But as Brutus is known to follow a fart by explosive diarrhoea, Bailey quickly corrected Mac and the idea was canned. It was no good, they would have to find their way to the kitchen by other means.

‘I am so excited I might be sick’ Mac muttered under his breath so that the puppies couldn’t hear it.

‘I hope we have nice weather’ Bailey replied.

And with that both dogs said nothing, they just sat there staring at Dee as she baked cakes, while making secret plans for a mass crate escape and a hostile takeover of the kitchen area and BBQ and taking all the sausages hostage.

At Sandra Burrow’s House – QLD

Kath the greyhound, Barney the big brindle horse/dog mix and Ruby the kelpie were having a chilled night in round Sandra’s house while playing the ‘Guess who?’ game.

All the dogs had a piece of paper stuck to their forehead while the other dogs had to give hints as to what or who was drawn on the paper, it is actually a very popular game amongst the dogs you know.

‘It’s white, woolly, makes a baahahahah noise and it gets its feet nipped’ Ruby the kelpie yelled in excitement to Barney.

‘A tampon on a string!’ Barney shouted with such excitement that he let out a huge fart which embarrassed him so much that he started noisily cleaning his genitals so Kath couldn’t see him blushing.

‘Barney you are SO disgusting!’ Kath said and wrinkled her long slender nose in disgust. Greyhounds simply do not fart, they let out ‘puffs’ of air that smell of Sunday dinner farts, or if you don’t have Sunday dinner, then compare it to pumpkin farts as they too can be quite vile to inhale.

‘No it’s a sheep silly, not a tampon!’ Ruby sighed impatiently and then ran around the living room to herd up the cushions to show Barney how it was done.

‘You lot are SO childish!’ Kath said, shaking her head in disapproval before jumping off the sofa totally forgetting that she had a white sticker on her head with ‘Celine Dion’ written on it.

‘Don’t you want to know who you are meant to be?’ Barney shouted to Kath who was now in the garden behind her favourite bush squatting down to take a piss.

Barney and Ruby were patiently waiting for Kath to finish her toileting so they could get on with their favourite game.

Kath sighed ‘If you must, give me a clue’, then proceeded to dig up the grass with her hind legs and scatter soil everywhere.

‘Horse face Titanic Canadian’ Ruby the kelpie giggled as she said the clue to Kath.

Looking confused Kath replied ‘What the heck are you on about Ruby?’

‘Horse face Titanic Canadian’ Ruby repeated.

‘I know, I know! Black Caviar the racehorse!’ Barney shouted. Not being the brightest dog on the block and a little bit ‘Brutus’ in the way of ‘gentle giant but not so smart’ title, Barney was so excited that he could even put out a clue, despite him not grasping the game that it wasn’t his turn to guess.

‘I give up, let’s go inside – ‘Better Homes and Gardens’ is on shortly and I want to watch Dr Harry’ Kath said firmly and walked inside with her sticker still on her head.

Ruby looked momentarily boot-faced but then agreed that they should go in as it would soon be tea time and she too liked watching Better Homes and Gardens especially when sheep and naughty dogs were involved.

The three dogs took their places on their favourite chairs, Kath had put her spectacles on so she could watch TV, Barney was lying on his back while flashing his genitals and periodically farting in between washing his anus and Ruby the kelpie was cuddled up to her toy sheep and occasionally nipping it to ‘keep it in its place’.

‘You know what day it is tomorrow?’ Ruby asked Kath.

‘Sunday’ Kath replied without looking up and then said ‘Why?’.

‘It’s West Coast Dog Sports lure coursing day in Western Australia, remember the last day Noah had to get his arc out as the day was a washout and dog were blown away and were seen floating down the Swan River on wooden crates, that is what I was told’ Ruby replied.

Barney stopped washing his bum and looked up ‘Oh yes, I heard they were meeting up, I had forgotten about that’.

Kath nodded approvingly and said ‘Well I hope they have a good day, it is a total tragedy when these events get cancelled and dogs can go into full depression when their lure coursing days don’t happen’.

‘Well I hear that it is going to be a beautiful day in Perth that day, wish I could come and meet all those Perth dogs, don’t you Kath?’ Ruby sighed and then went back to chewing on her toy.

‘Right everyone, quiet now – Dr Harry is on and I want to see the segment on stopping dogs digging the garden’ Kath said firmly and then spread her hind legs out like butter and her front legs to the skies like Superman as she stretched out in true greyhound fashion.

(Sandra Burrows walks in the door)

‘Hi dogs, I hope you have been good – who has been farting in here, is that you Barney?’ Sandra greeted the dogs that she had so lovingly trusted to have a ‘doggy night’ on their own.

‘I’ve got it, I’ve got it!’ Barney shouted at the top of his brindle voice.

‘What have you got – fleas?’ Kath said impatiently.

‘Titanic Horse Face Canadian – Celine Dion’ Barney snorted with laughter and carried on snorting despite Ruby nipping his feet to make him shut up.

‘That is SO not funny, I hate Celine Dion’ Kath said sounding totally fed up, her pointy snout appearing more sharp with ‘pissed-off-ness’, pulling the note off her head with her front paws, Kath looked the epitome of a dog with all the wounded pride of being called ‘Celine Dion’.

‘I know, I know, Barney shut up, that is SO not funny’ Ruby said to Barney while trying not to laugh.

‘Yes it is’ Barney snorted with laughter and ran inside before Ruby could nip him again.

Suddenly Kath received a text message on her mobile, this was most unusual for so late this evening but it must be urgent. Glancing down at her phone she saw the message ‘It’s me Pippin, I need to speak to you urgently!’

Kath who had Pippin’s number on speed dial, called the Italian greyhound to find out what the problem was.

‘Hi Pippin everything OK?’ Kath said in a concerned voice and then yelled ‘Barney will you stop it, I am trying to have a serious discussion with Pippin’ Kath said in her best superior voice. She was looking over the top of her spectacles now which always heralded that she was cross.

‘Kath, I have just had some bad news – thought you should know….’ Pippin said trying very hard to be strong.

Barney and Ruby could see Kaths face change from her normal greyhound expression to one of great sadness and it was a look that each and every dog knew and understood and nothing more needed to be said.

‘Oh Pippin, I am so very sorry – give my regards to the group’ Kath said now looking visibly upset.

‘We have only just found out ourselves this evening Kath so it is a shock for all of us but I will keep you posted how it goes tomorrow, it is going to be quite a sad day and even the humans don’t know about our plans as they have been so last minute but suffice to say that tomorrow we will be officially racing for a reason’. Pippin replied.

‘Well it is lovely what the West Coast dogs are planning, but I don’t envy you on keeping it together, I know I couldn’t’ Kath said quietly.

‘I am sure you could Kath, I am sure you could – anyway, speak soon’ Pippin nodded trying not to show any emotion but we all know Pippin, the harder Pippin tries to be, the more we know that he is hurting.

‘Oh, Pippin, just one more thing before you go!’ Kath shouted at the computer.

‘Yes Kath?’ Said Pippin.

‘Good luck mate – with everything and do it for all of us in QLD!’ Kath nodded and just for once, Ruby and Barney sat quietly behind her and said nothing.

‘You OK Kath?’ Ruby asked Kath.

‘Yep, just got something in my eyes, that is all – I think it is a bit of grass or something, damn grass gets everywhere’ Kath said quietly and shuffled off to her bed.

Ruby and Barney nodded in sympathy because if you looked at them; they also had ‘something’ in their eyes and they too, needed a quiet moment to reflect, remember and wish with all their hearts that they could be in Perth on Sunday to join their friends in what was going to be a remarkable act of canine solidarity and support.

At Vader’s House

Vader sat subdued by his bed – nothing interested him, not even his toys. He didn’t know what to say so he said nothing and even saying nothing, even doing nothing – hurt him.

Vader

At Brutus’s House

Brutus and Rocky had also heard the news that had filtered via Pippin that evening and unable to process it, both dogs had gone to their respective beds to make sense of it all.

Brutus and Rocky discuss the news

Brutus was hugging his Tony Abbott doll and Rocky was curled up with his gingerbread man, both boys were uncharacteristically quiet.

When only his Tony Abbott toy will comfort Brutus

‘Rocky?’ Brutus whispered quietly.

‘Yes Brutus’ Rocky replied.

‘Will I be a brave boy tomorrow?’ Brutus asked.

Rocky took a deep breath before he replied ‘Yes Brutus, I am sure you will, and Vader will as well’

‘I don’t want to cry, what happens if I cry?’ Brutus asked Rocky.

You could just make out the shadows of Rocky’s huge kelpie ears as he sat up, the moon shone brightly into the living room making ‘kelpie shadows’ by Rocky’s bed.

‘All dogs cry and providing you cry when it counts, it makes you a brave dog so please don’t worry about it’ Rocky said to reassure Brutus.

‘I don’t care about the race, I just hope I am a brave boy tomorrow – that is all’ Brutus sighed.

‘I am sure you will be’ Said Rocky.

‘Goodnight Rocky’ Brutus sniffed a few minutes later.

‘Goodnight lad and do us proud tomorrow’ Rocky replied.

But Brutus never heard that bit as he was fast asleep while clutching his Tony Abbott doll and dreaming about lure coursing, how painful life can be and absent friends.

Winston

This story is dedicated to Winston who crossed over to Rainbow Bridge far sooner than he should have done.

I would like to thank Winston’s owner Vanessa, for kindly allowing me to pay this tribute to Winston whom I had the pleasure to see at the recent Lure Coursers Anonymous lure coursing event at the Naval Base near Rockingham.

Winston had such fun with his lure coursing and was a joy to watch and even won a trophy on the day.

Winston proudly displaying his trophy.

(Photography by Vanessa Pusey)

Racing for a reason

So tomorrow we shall go to our lure coursing event, we shall have fun, we shall catch up with friends. Our dogs will have fun and enjoy themselves and no doubt have a blast as they chase the lure.

But when they do it, my guess is that if I know the characters that frequent my stories and I think I do, they will not only run for themselves – but they will sure as hell do it for Winston and they will ‘race for a reason’.

Next instalment to follow.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright August 2014

All photography is copyright by myself, Jet Ska and Vanessa Pusey.

The Secret World of Dogs – and Lure Coursing

Posted on June 10, 2014 by Samantha Rose

As you all know, the ‘Fastest Dog in Australia’ heats are happening Australia wide – held by different clubs in each state. One Western Australian group – Lure Coursers Anonymous have held their heats already and West Coast Dog Sports are holding theirs at the Polo grounds in Guildford this weekend. And as usual with the dogs, the excitement is building up to fever pitch.

Now before any lure coursing event, there are always doggy meetings and gatherings held by various breeds of dog to discuss race tactics, who is going to wear what and general doggy discussions take place talking about all highly important stuff and these meetings are looked forward to by every dog and are a highlight on the canine social calendar.

At Gidget’s House – The Meeting of the Italian Greyhounds (or Iggy’s as they are known)

The Italian greyhounds were holding their regular board meeting to discuss ‘stuff’ and by ‘stuff’ that could mean a multitude of things aside from racing because this breed of dog rarely stay on one subject for long.

Pippin always chairs the meeting and religiously has two mobile phones and has an admirable ability to be able to talk on both of them at the same time. Pippin is the ‘Mouse’ of the Iggy world and has his pointy snout into everyone’s business.

Pippin the Italian greyhound – and chairman of all meetings!

Gidget was there, and although a typical nosy Italian greyhound, was more of a fashionista and absolutely refused to go outside unless everything matched and was totally designer.

‘Gidget – will you please concentrate!’ Snapped Pippin looking annoyed at the tiny little dog who had been admiring her own reflection for over an hour, blowing steam into her tiny hand mirror and wiping it in hope of a clearer view of her beautifully chiseled pointy features.

Gidget – the fashionista of the group

‘I will not be racing, I am far too delicate – I have legs that snap like carrots and cannot possibly risk myself’ Gidget replied sounding mortally wounded at the suggestion that she should concentrate on anyone other than herself.

Pippin rolled his eyes and said ‘I know you are not racing but at the moment we are discussing the cat situation in the suburbs and how the ferals keep threatening us with intent, only last week two Iggys were threatened by a feral tabby and they are still being treated for shock’.

Nica another fashionista and somewhat model of the dog world, promptly started to sob at Pippin’s announcement of the feral cat situation. Being rather dramatic, she was prone to crying in public and had started to carry some decorated gift bags from the David Jones store in Perth in her designer purse so that she could hyperventilate with style.

Nica – another fashionista and all round delicate soul

‘We might need to call an ambulance’ Gidget shouted as she put her skinny paw around Nica who was checking from the corner of her eyes to see who was watching and moaning something about smelling salts.

‘Don’t let the cats get me, don’t let them – save me from the litter tray!’ Nica sobbed, she was playing the part now.

‘You don’t need an ambulance and the cats can’t come in here so stop being so silly!’ Pippin said firmly. Really this lot were so hard to control, they could be so very naughty.

Rocco – a smooth talking Italian greyhound, was looking somewhat bored as Pippin tried to quieten the others down. Rocco is quite a character that has taken to speaking in a fake Italian accent and ordering ‘Pup-o-cinos’ and Panini plus listening to Pavarotti in a bid to look more Italian. He even carries an Italian dictionary in his pocket for emergencies.

Rocco also claims to know Pavarotti personally despite being advised that Pavarotti died in 2007, Rocco strongly maintains that he is in fact his 25th cousin, the other dogs are too scared to shatter his illusions and let him continue to believe it.

Rocco – (Pavarotti’s 25th cousin)

‘Let’s play with the toy rabbit!’ Rocco said in a high pitched shrill voice and then frantically started shaking a bed sock that he had found on the floor whilst growling at it to make sure it was ‘dead’.

‘That is not a rabbit that is my Mums bed sock’ Gidget yelled and then tried to snatch it back resulting in a tug of war between the two dogs.

‘Right, next on the agenda – are you lot listening?’ Pippin yelled and then blew his whistle loudly to get attention.

It was no good, all the other Iggys were now thoroughly over excited and all talking over one another in true Iggy fashion, each one not letting the other finish a sentence, each one with their own story to tell and every one of them totally full of gossip. Some of them were now joining in playing tug of war with the sock and Nica was periodically pretending to faint and demanding someone mop her forehead to alleviate shock.

Basically this was a typical Italian greyhound board meeting and Pippin was run ragged trying to organise them all and control them. Don’t be fooled by the Iggys you see, they are tougher than they look and have even been known to have food fights and flick dog meat at one another.

‘OK, that is the end of this meeting’ Pippin shouted at the top of his little voice, clutching his clip board he fretfully ticked stuff off the list that had been achieved (or not) and then added ‘Anything to talk about next week?’

The Iggys were all shouting and yelling, Nica was back to checking her reflection and smoothing down her ears, Gidget was checking her appearance and holding her stomach in and asking if ‘her bum looked big in black’ and Rocco was back to talking in his fake Italian accent to gain attention.

Italian greyhounds – gossips of the dog world

‘Winter jackets’ Gidget replied firmly ‘I would like to talk about winter jackets and are Gucci doing anything for this season?’

Pippin rolled his eyes – ‘Surely there is more to life than clothes? What about lure coursing?’ he said sounding frustrated.

‘Lure coursing – could be fun I guess’ Rocco said absent-mindedly.

The Iggys stared at one another, some cocked their heads in interest at the mention of lure coursing, but the fashionistas of the group – Gidget and Nica to name but two, rolled their eyes to the heavens and said at the same time ‘Let’s talk about Gucci’.

‘OK, Gucci it is then but don’t forget to all of you that are racing at the weekend to make sure that you meet Mouse Norris and myself under the Terrace where we can discuss pre-race tactics’ Pippin announced.

The dogs all started to talk over one another again – some discussed the race, others discussed clothes and one or two even discussed diets because they had a fixation of their weight and would often hold their bellies in and pinch skin on their ribs as they were paranoid about their weight.

‘See you at the weekend!’ Pippin shouted over the excited Iggys all trying to talk at once as their tails wagged frantically and as nobody had listened to him, he declared the meeting closed and instructed Gidget to type up the minutes, except Gidget was now outside discussing Prada with Nica.

At Dee Coles House

Dee’s ridgebacks were all lounging about on the bed, which they frequently took over leaving Dee with nowhere to sleep.

Your bed is our bed – so Dee’s ridgebacks believe

Mac, Bailey, Princess and Jazz were spread out as far as their bodies would allow. Mac was reading a book about lure coursing to try and get tips for the race at the weekend while Bailey tried to watch TV while lying upside down.

Jazz and Princess were being typical naughty pups and vying for attention from the boys who took the lure-coursing thing very seriously. Jazz kept nipping Bailey on the tail while Princess tried to be a good girl but failed miserably because she didn’t like the grown up dogs ignoring her.

‘Mirror mirror on the wall, am I the fastest dog of them all?’ Princess said aloud to herself.

‘Don’t know about that, Mouse is the fastest I should imagine’ Jazz replied.

‘Will you two be quiet, we are trying to study for the run!’ Mac said impatiently.

But trying to keep two young ridgie puppies calm and quiet was like trying to keep Brutus from eating a steak and simply cannot be done.

‘Bailey?’ Princess asked.

‘Yes Princess’ Bailey replied without lifting his head up.

‘I am so excited that I don’t think I can sleep’ Said Princess in a high-pitched voice.

Bailey looked at the young ridgie and smiled ‘Yes, but don’t get too excited or you will do what is commonly known as ‘the Brutus’ which is not pleasant’.

‘What is The Brutus?’ Princess asked.

‘The Brutus is where you get so excited that you shit yourself and trust me, it is not pleasant’ Bailey said to the disgust of Princess who could never imagine doing such a thing.

Poor old Brutus, he has never managed to live down his title of Turd Legs and has actually crapped himself more than any dog I have ever known.

The shame of crapping himself has never left Brutus

‘Bailey?’ Princess asked again.

‘Yes Princess’ Bailey replied patiently, honestly he was a very patient boy.

‘I can be excited without shitting myself’ Princess said firmly but made a mental effort to clench her bottom – just in case.

‘Good girl’ Bailey smiled and got back to his studies.

At Brutus’s house

‘Rocky I am so excited, I can’t wait for lure coursing, I just wish that Vader could come’ Brutus said to Rocky as they were busy digging graves in the garden. You see graves have to be dug on a daily basis purely to turn over the soil or so Brutus tells me.

Rocky and Brutus discuss the weekend ahead

‘I wish I could come as well’ Vader yelled through the fence and then made some special noises that only boxers can make.

Vader and Brutus – they do EVERYTHING together including window licking

‘Well personally I would rather herd sheep’ Rocky sniffed without looking up and then herded up his tennis ball to stop it from running away, tennis balls have a mind of their own you know. Rocky has exceptional herding talents and has even herded up food on a picnic mat before and yes, I am being serious.

Rocky herding up our picnic

‘Rocky will you play with me when Brutus is at lure coursing?’ Vader pleaded through the fence while snuffling loudly.

‘Piss off, I would rather play with a dugite’ Rocky shouted back ‘But I guess a little bark-off through the fence won’t hurt’.

Vader grinned, a bark-off would do for now, it might not be racing but it was better than nothing.

‘I am going in now, I want to learn my stuff for the dog racing’ Brutus said happily and told Vader he would speak to him later.

‘He likes this racing lark doesn’t he?’ Rocky muttered to Vader.

‘Yep he does, and so do I. Do you like anything Rocky, aside from your ball?’ Vader asked the little black kelpie dog.

Rocky looked thoughtful and after a few seconds replied ‘I used to like having my tennis ball thrown for me but I have bad hips so can’t have that anymore. But I do like swimming and I would love the chance to herd up sheep as soon as Mum can afford for me to do that’

And he did love his swimming and is really good at it, Rocky’s hip dysplasia completely disappears in the water and that is a joy to see. He has been to hydrotherapy once and we have plans to take him again as he loved it that much.

Rocky in hydrotherapy

Both dogs sat there quietly at either side of the fence. It was almost a moment of friendship, I say almost because at the same time, both dogs remembered that they don’t actually like each other.

‘Bastard, snub nosed mucus face monkey-pig’ Rocky growled through the fence.

‘Spastic clicky hipped big eared batfink’ Vader growled back and both boys launched into a tirade of angry barks, growls and snot flicks through the fence while doing the obligatory ‘fence run’ where they run up and down and chase one another from each side of the fence – fence running is an Olympic sport in the doggy world and most dogs take it seriously.

‘Will you two stop it! Rocky come in right now!’ I shouted through the patio door.

‘Same time tomorrow?’ Rocky said to Vader.

‘Yep, same time – catch ya later’ Vader replied.

And that was that – as quickly as it started, it had finished.

Let the fun commence!

The build up to the lure coursing has started, the dogs are in training, or discussing training, probably doing squat jumps and press ups in attempts to get fit.

There will be heated discussions and meetings, test runs around the garden and lots of activity in the home.

You may well come downstairs in the night to find your dogs huddled up in a group reading about lure coursing tactics, you may even catch them out trying a high protein diet for faster performance. Just don’t be surprised at your dogs embracing lure coursing and getting excited about it.

Brutus dreams of lure coursing (and chewing Tony Abbotts testicles)

So to all of you that are going on Sunday, keep an eye out for Brutus who has promised not to shit himself with excitement. We will probably be under the terrace I should think.

Pippin will be holding a meeting with the Iggys and also holding court to Mouse, Barbie and the greyhound contingent and Dee’s ridgebacks will probably be around other ridgebacks discussing lions and stuff.

Dee’s ridgebacks – discussing lions and stuff

The cattle dogs/kelpies will be having heated discussions about sheep as they normally do and probably won’t even notice you staring at them unless you shout ‘Bahhhhh’, in which case you will be promptly herded up.

Melissa Jone’s Staffordshire bull terriers will no doubt be trying to make their regular big bid for freedom as they open their own crates whilst the other dogs cheer them on and whistle the tune ‘The Great Escape’.

One of Melissa Jones’s Staffords – think ‘The Great Escape’

Photo by Melissa Jones

Basically it’s all going to happen at this event so dust down your most comfy shoes, bring enough cash to treat yourself to the sausage sizzle and a cold drink and bring with you a good sense of humour and imagination because if you are really lucky, you will hear all the dogs talking – just like I do.

It’s a great day out – for the dogs to catch up, for friends to catch up and just to have a nice time.

See you on Sunday!

A Day at the Races

Posted on March 28, 2014 by Samantha Rose

Brutus and Vader enter their first Lure Coursing Event (Photo by Mel Jones/Dee Cole)

This is a story of Brutus and Vader and their first attempts at lure coursing at Guildford Polo Grounds, Western Australia.

The next coursing event

Brutus is my dog – a kelpie/ridgeback mix and I also have Rocky who is a kelpie. Vader the boxer is my friend Lexies dog and also Brutus’s best friend.

We decided to take them Lure coursing which is a totally fun event aimed at all breeds of dog, they can run solo or with other dogs.

This is the story as how I see it, as usual if you have followed my previous animal blogs, you will see that I animate my animals, make them talk, have an adult sense of humour and yes, at times they use bad language. I aim my stories at adults to indulge the child within and make them laugh.

Warning – this blog is not suitable for children, or if you would like to read it to your child, that is fine but you will need to remove some of the language that my pets tend to use.

In the car with Lexie – Vader’s owner, myself and Brutus

‘Are we there yet?’ Brutus asked impatiently and for the millionth time as Lexie drove us to the Guildford Polo Grounds for the lure coursing event.

‘No Brutus, we are not there yet’ Lexie replied patiently.

‘Are we even nearly there yet?’ Vader asked in his boxer voice – any boxer dog owner will tell you that boxers talk in a certain way which is with an exceptionally fat tongue and rather slow. Just like kelpies talk really quickly and manage to throw the words ‘tennis ball’ or ‘sheep’ in between each sentence.

Greyhounds/whippets/Italian greyhounds tend to talk in a posh English accent whilst Jack Russell terriers speak in a sort of eccentric public school accent and discuss rabbits and stuff.

Anyway as usual I digress – I am terrible for doing that so you must all excuse me.

‘No Vader, we are not nearly there yet’ I told the impatient boxer who looked quite upset at my response.

‘I am bored, I am so bored – can anyone help me, I am bored’ Vader said with his tongue getting caught up in his mouth as it was far too big.

Brutus looked upwards as though it would have all the answers ‘Lick the windows, that’s what we usually do when we are bored’ he said happily and then began licking the windows of Lexie’s car.

Vader looked thoughtful and after a few seconds, decided that yes, licking the windows constituted a sport and one that he was quite good at.

Two special dogs licking the windows – very nice until Brutus realised that Vader had some sort of skin irritation under his mouth and thought that he could clean it very well thank you while Vader patiently let the young pup wash him.

‘Brutus cleans Vader’s jowls’

On arrival at the polo grounds the boys were met with an array of strange but exciting smells including “fresh bitch”, dog urine and hot dogs.

‘Are we there yet?’ Brutus and Vader yelled together, they were so excited that one of them farted and neither would own up as it smelt so foul, in fact I was sure that one of them had shat themselves except there was no evidence.

The scene was a hub of activity – greyhounds jogging round the track and showing off to all those slower than themselves, Italian greyhounds doing test runs; a couple of Irish wolfhounds were also warming up by jumping around and bouncing in a way that only an Irish wolfhound can do.

Some huskies were barking their heads off and discussing sled dog racing and a border collie was doing squat jumps whilst a Jack Russell terrier timed him on a stop watch.

‘What was my time?’ The border collie said in a breathless voice.

’40 secs’ The JRT replied looking very important with the stop watch round his neck.

‘Bollocks, I am down on my last time’ The collie said looking disappointed.

‘Yep but only by two seconds, you will beat the arse off the huskies for sure’ The JRT said confidently and then mouthed ‘Fuck off’ to the huskies that were eying him up in bitchy fashion.

A couple of Rhodesian ridgeback bitches sat in their cages, looking rather regal and majestic as they were sipped their water while discussing the lions in Africa, not that they hunted lions but it was what their ancestors used to do so it was only fair that they discussed it.

‘And she reckoned she brought down 14 lions in one day’ One of the bitches said to her friend in the next cage.

‘Well I heard it was only 10 but you know what she is like, prone to lying of course’ the other dog said.

Glancing round for a distraction, one of the ridgeback bitches spotted Brutus who was literally glued to the spot in awe of all these other important and athletic looking dogs all doing their own prep for the race.

‘Well hello there, and who is your father?’ The ridgeback bitch giggled at Brutus who looked like a cross between a kangaroo and Scooby Doo.

Brutus blushed and elbowed Vader in the ribs for support, he had never in his puppy long-legged life seen quite so many dogs at one point and to be honest, he felt more than a little intimidated and he also felt upset about being asked about his father who was rumoured to be very good at herding sheep I’ll have you know.

‘Hey, Scooby Doo, I said who’s your father?’ The other ridgeback bitch giggled from her cage.

It was no good, Brutus would have to answer the question, feeling totally out of his depth he really wanted Vader’s support in this matter but Vader was busy being admired by people and proudly displaying his long tongue.

Taking a deep breath, Brutus replied in his surprisingly deep voice ‘My Mum is a ridgeback and my Daddy is a kelpie’

The two ridgeback bitches stared at each other in surprise and after what seemed like ages, nodded approvingly and smiled at Brutus.

‘Well you do look a bit odd but I guess you can join our gang’ the large bitch replied.
‘Where’s your ridge?’ the smaller bitch asked accusingly, she had a ridge and rather a splendid one at that, where was Brutus’s ridge?

‘Oh I only get my ridge on for special occasions’ Brutus blurted out. He didn’t actually have a ridge and it was his hackles that he got out for special occasions but his response was enough to shut the dogs up and keep them happy.

‘Never heard of that before but that’s OK, we like you’ the smaller bitch said happily before taking another drink from her water bowl. Really she was rather glamourous.

Brutus smiled gratefully, he had always wanted to be in a gang – anyone’s gang would do.

‘Do you chase lions?’ The bigger of the ridgeback bitches asked Brutus.

‘No, I don’t’ Brutus replied and then added ‘Do you have a Tony Abbott doll?’

Brutus is very proud of his Tony Abbott doll

The ridgebacks looked at one another confused; ‘Tony Abbot – why would I have a Tony Abbott doll?’ One mouthed to the other and the next minute they had decided that they were bored with Brutus and went back to discussing lion hunting in Africa and in their own unique way, dismissed Brutus leaving him clumsily fiddling with his collar and kicking the grass wondering what to do next.

Vader in the meantime was busy taking in the scenery; he was the only boxer there and was quivering with excitement. He didn’t know whether or not to greet the other dogs, bash them up, snot on them or shit himself. Standing there with his tail held erect, he did his best ‘village idiot’ impression and let his tongue hang out of his mouth like a yard of wet ham.

Vader the boxer (and his tongue) (Photo by Mel Jones/Dee Cole)

Team Kelpie

A group of kelpies sat in the corner whilst discussing sheep trials. They barely showed any interest in the course and positively scorned at the greyhounds who were still doing squat jumps and warm ups for the race. Several of the kelpies were throwing tennis balls at one another to test their speed and reflex, each time a dog dropped the ball the others would laugh and cheer loudly.

‘I heard that the sheep were all disabled to give them the best chance’ said one tri coloured kelpie who was holding court to the rest of the kelpies.

‘Well I heard that she can’t even do backing and is meant to be a started worker’ a red cloud added to the conversation.

‘She can’t even herd up ducks so I have been told’ said a black kelpie in a sarcastic voice causing the other to laugh at the shock of it all.

‘Have you seen them – over there are a group of Alpacas?’ the tri coloured kelpie said in excitement whilst nodding to a group of Alpacas in the next field.

It was true, over the road was a group of Alpacas hanging out by the fence, just begging to be herded up and once Team Kelpie had spotted them, all thoughts of the race was abandoned.

Team Kelpie all ran over to where the Alpacas were and before you knew it, were discussing the logistics of herding and how quickly they reckoned they could do it. The Alpacas were quite antagonistic in their response and knowing that they were safe in their field, started moving around to annoy the kelpies who were barking in frustration at not being able to herd them up.

The sight-hounds were totally acing it really, they always did, they were so fast and effortless as though they ran down the track whilst chatting about shopping and stuff.

Making it look easy! (Photo by Mel Jones/Dee Cole)

The smaller dogs were arguing heatedly about who was going to go next and some were literally smiling as they were enjoying themselves so much.

It was all so distracting and exciting for our boys, it was a wonder they didn’t piss have a meltdown with all the fuss going on around them.

Little ones enjoying the day (Photo by Mel Jones/Dee Cole)

Brutus and Vader

Brutus and Vader were looking nervously at the other dogs around them. Neither of them knew what to do or how to race and everyone else seemed so professional, they all knew what to do and just fitted in with everything while Brutus and Vader like new kids on the block, felt awkward.

‘If he doesn’t stop doing squats I am going to fart on his head’ Vader growled at a greyhound who was bouncing around like a twat.

The Greyhounds showing off with their fitness (Photo by Mel Jones/Dee Cole)

Brutus wasn’t listening; he had sighted a beautiful Weimaraner bitch who was flirting with him. Blushing furiously, Brutus plucked up the courage to ask for her phone number which she willingly gave. Suddenly a vigorous game of ‘play bow’ and ‘sniff the genitals’ took place much to the jealousy of Vader who was barking hysterically asking Brutus to stop embarrassing him.

Brutus and his new girlfriend (Photo by Mel Jones/Dee Cole)

Vader isn’t really in to girls like Brutus and feels quite disgusted when Brutus looks up girls’ bottoms and has been known to throw jealous fits over it. Girls smell in Vaders eyes and the only thing girl dogs genitals are good for is to store your bones in.

Sitting down in the little chairs that Lexie had bought for us, we enjoyed a hotdog and a can of coke which I shared with Brutus. I knew it could give him diarrhoea but it was a treat and he enjoyed it so much and it was lovely to see him with sauce on his snout.

Brutus was very puppy like in his behaviour and spent a lot of time play bowing to other dogs and being very submissive which was nice as he posed no threat and there was no aggression shown to him by other dogs.

Brutus gets her phone number! (Photo by Mel Jones/Dee Cole)

Team Kelpie had now isolated themselves in the corner and were making elaborate plans for the Alpacas, there was even talk of breaking in to the field to herd them but that was only talk at that stage and I don’t think it actually happened.

We all registered for our races – we entered Brutus and Vader in for two races each – one solo and one with each other.

‘I am scared; I don’t know what to do’ Brutus whispered to me, and then stuffed his nose in my face and said ‘tell me what I have to do’.

‘You run Brutus, you chase the lure and you run’ I reassured him.

Vader and Lexie had gone down to the bottom for Vader’s first solo run and a guy very kindly held Brutus for me whilst I waited to catch Vader.

‘Mum, where have you gone – who is this man?’ Brutus shouted from the sides as the guy held him.

I had no time to placate him – the excitement had built up amongst the dogs.

The greyhounds quivered in excitement, some dogs were yelling and shouting at no-one in particular, there was barking and crying, even the ridgebacks had stopped gossiping to see what was going on.

‘Jesus Christ on a bike, would you take a look at the mouth flaps on that!’ A large husky shouted as Vader thundered down the track like a champion.

He was proud, his heart was bursting – he ran as though his life depended on it and he took his jowls with him as they flapped in the wind. He could hear his very own music – ‘Chariots of Fire’ and it was playing in his mind, he could hear it loud and clear.

People clapped and people cheered – we all did, it was pure joy to watch each dog run his/her heart out down that track and I was so proud of Vader.

‘They are clapping for me; I am going to win my race!’ Vader thought to himself, totally exhausted by his run but the applause just made him go faster until he and his jowls reached the end where he was caught.

None of us dared tell Vader the only one in ‘his race’ was himself and there was no-one to beat, we didn’t want to ruin it for him and he was so proud of himself and rightly so as well.

‘Well done Vader!’ Brutus shouted, he was thrilled for his friend and even the ridgeback bitches congratulated him.

It was a while before Brutus went down for his turn but while we were waiting; he made friends with a couple of whippets and enjoyed sniffing out their genitals and handing out his phone number. They seemed quite taken with the gentle giant and were amused by his baby-like behaviours to make himself non-threatening to the bigger dogs and utterly cute to the smaller ones.

Two large male ridgebacks sat in their cages – full of their own self importance, they were reading copies of dogs’ magazines and discussed dog shows and stuff and barely acknowledged Brutus as he went down for his race.

Brutus smiled at them nervously and was met with a brief acknowledgement and a nod from both dogs that then carried on with their conversation.

Soon it was Brutus’s turn and one of the ladies released him for me while I went to the end of the course to catch him.

‘Go on lad, you can do it’ A couple of greyhounds shouted in a sudden display of support and solidarity.

Team Kelpie barely lifted their heads to show interest, I had only seen one kelpie down the track while his mates yelled insults about sheep to him resulting in him mouthing ‘fuck off’ and flipping them the bird.

‘Everyone is looking at me’ Brutus sobbed as I started to run down the track and then added ‘Don’t leave me!’.

Ignoring him, I ran to the end and gave my hand signal to the lady that was holding him, he was released as the lure was set off and started to give chase.

I was so proud of my boy running down, somewhat distracted by the other dogs but he did his best and people cheered him on.

‘I did it, I won! Do I get a prize?’ Brutus shouted breathlessly as I put his collar back on.

It took some explaining to tell him that he wouldn’t get a prize and as we walked back, other dogs were telling him he had done well which pleased Brutus as he loves praise.

We rested the boys up to prepare them for their run with each other and Brutus played with his new girlfriend the Weimaraner bitch while Vader barked on in jealousy and flicked his snot everywhere.

‘That was fun, I loved that’ Vader said happily as he took treats from Lexie.

Boys taking a rest (Photo by Lexie Goldsmith)

Because I had a thumping headache, I was consuming rather too much caffeine in the form of a can of “Mother” which always seems to help with headaches but suffice to say the rest was much needed.

‘Did you see the Italian greyhounds?’ Brutus asked Vader, he was over excited and talking super fast because he wanted to get all of his words out.

Italian Greyhounds getting into the spirit! (Photo by Mel Jones/Dee Cole)

‘Legs that snap like carrots’ Vader muttered, he had no time for such tiny dogs that couldn’t take the rough and tumble of boxer-games.

The next race

Before long it was our turn for the next race and both Brutus and Vader were going to run together.

‘Right boys, let’s go’ Lexie and I announced to the dogs.

It was all getting rather serious and the other dogs were now drinking sports drinks and discussing the Olympic Games and agility and whether or not consuming roast kangaroo before a race constituted cheating.

Now I will say that although our boys are not sporty like the others, they did hold their own and were very well behaved and we were proud of them.

We took our place in the line to enter both of our boys and aside from Vader poking a large greyhound that growled back at him, it all went rather well. Vader denies that it was his fault and said the greyhound started it by calling him a ‘snub nose mucous mouth’ He was merely defending himself and accused the greyhound of having an eating disorder and ribs you could stack plates on.

‘Fuck you skinny legs’ Vader yelled when the greyhound told him to ‘fuck off’ and then added that he eats lots of food thank you and is blessed with naturally skinny genes.

‘Yeah right, your snout is so sharp we could chop wood with it!’ Vader shouted at the greyhound who was making exceedingly rude gestures to the angry boxer dog.

‘Vader will you stop it!’ Lexie told Vader off causing him to blush; he didn’t like being told off in public.

Brutus remained quiet, he was getting nervous again, or was it excitement? Perhaps it was both, so just to be safe, he farted.

Leaving the boys with Lexie, I ran to the end of the course ready to try and catch them – a thought that filled me with utter dread.

I gave the hand signal, the boys were then released and I will say that in their favour, they ran beautifully – Vader literally leaving the ground as he ran so fast and Brutus smiled his way down the track.

We cheered them on and even Team Kelpie showed some enthusiasm but that was only because they had heard that Brutus’s Dad is a kelpie so he constitutes in their eyes, half a kelpie and therefore should be supported. This also meant that once the ridgebacks had confirmed that the other half of Brutus was a ridgeback, they could cheer on that part of his breeding. Pedigrees can be so picky you know.

The greyhounds had tried to claim a part of Brutus for themselves on the grounds that he had very long legs but that idea was thrown out when they realised that Brutus had a penchant for cats – as in he loved them.

Brutus came back easily but Vader didn’t like the guy that tried to catch him and told him to ‘piss off’ and ran towards me but as the guy moved in the same direction, Vader swore and ran off, taking a few minutes to be caught by Lexie.

Brutus and Vader – both ‘winning their own race’ (Photo by Mel Jones/Dee Cole)

A time to shine

We decided to go home after that, the boys were so exhausted they barely had the energy to jump in the car as they were that tired.

Kings they came home that day – they had ‘won’ their very own personal races, they had faced their challenges, they had made friends, told others to ‘fuck off’, they had stepped right out of their comfort zone and had mixed with dogs of all shapes and sizes and they had proven themselves as good boys.

On the way home they excitedly discussed their day and how much they enjoyed it, Brutus was extra happy as he had scored a few bitches phone numbers.

Tired boys!

Back home

I helped Brutus out of the car to take him to the house and said goodbye to Lexie.

‘Catch ya later Vader’ Brutus grinned at Vader who was so tired he could barely lift his tongue back in his own mouth.

‘See you later, catch up next week?’ Vader asked hopefully.

Rocky always rubbishes Brutus when he has been away and he shouldn’t really as he has his treats and trips out – and even has a hydrotherapy session booked. An entire swimming pool booked for Rocky and Tess for a whole hour, toys provided, some might say he is too spoiled but Rocky would beg to differ.

Rocky pissed on Brutus’s head as soon as he saw him and bashed him up a bit and by ‘bashed up’ I mean roughed him up and when he had finished, he asked Brutus how his day had gone.

Rocky and Brutus discuss the coursing!

I didn’t hear the whole conversation but overheard Brutus saying about ‘racing’ and ‘winning’ and in typical puppy fashion, by the time Brutus had finished telling his story, he was claiming to have raced with 5 greyhounds and had beaten them hands down.

But that was just Brutus trying to impress Rocky and Rocky knew Brutus was bullshitting but let him have his moment of glory anyway.

Later that night

Brutus was crashed out on his bed; barely able to move and was in such a deep sleep at one point, he must have been dreaming as I could see his legs twitching and his tail wagging in his sleep.

Vader was also exhausted and had told his own version of events to his sister Tess who also didn’t quite believe that Vader had beaten every dog in the event and was going to enter the Greyhound Derby as a boxer dog.

‘Rocky?’ Brutus asked Rocky later that evening.

‘Yes Brutus?’ Rocky replied.

‘You know that each dog has a job and your job is herding?’ Brutus asked.

Rocky looked thoughtful and after a few seconds replied ‘Yes’.

‘Well what is my job? If Dad was a kelpie and Mum was a ridgeback, what is my job?’ Brutus asked sounding confused. He wanted a job of his own like the greyhounds and huskies he met today at the lure coursing.

Rocky stared at him for a minute, realising that this was important to Brutus and that he needed his very own ‘job’.

‘Well lad, let’s say that you are a guard dog for the house and our family, you might not be a racing dog like those greyhounds, or a sled dog like the huskies or a sheep dog like myself but guard dog is just as important if not more so’ Rocky said to Brutus who was taking in every word.

Brutus thought for a moment and then satisfied with the answer, replied ‘Guard dog – I like the sound of that’.

And with that answer, Brutus was more than happy.

Because all dogs should have a ‘job’ and protecting the family is the most important job of all and Brutus does it so well – my very own ‘pedigree’ and I am so proud of him.

The end

Photographs Copyright (C) to Mel Jones/Dee Cole and Lexie Goldsmith March 2014

Rocky, Vader and the beginning of a beautiful friendship (with mucous)

Posted on November 6, 2013 by Samantha Rose

Rocky can ‘do smart’ when he has to!

Since we lived in the new house, my Rocky has become quite dog aggressive due to one particular dog that escapes and comes up to our house barking and going at Rocky through the fence, poor old Rocky tries to defend his property and has this huge entire (non desexed) aggressive male going at him through the gate and as a result, Rocky now has zero tolerance to dogs that charge up to him head on and he will bite back.

So if you ever see us in the park (Rocky will always be on the leash unless in the fenced area), we are not being rude if we walk away from your dog, Rocky is in training to get his confidence back and I have to protect him from loose dogs that charge up to him – he is not dog friendly at the moment but we are working on it, but it is best to let Rocky quietly do his thing and not let your dog invade his personal space.

Anyway, the dog in question that teases him from outside is a boxer so when Rocky sees any boxer at all it is game on and he called a couple of boxers in the park ‘minge headed bastards’ the other week and even stuck two paws up to them before flashing his arse, it didn’t end well let me tell you and another kelpie joined in from the sidelines shouting abuse as well and had two magpies not intervened, it would have been messy. But magpies in leather jackets on the sidelines with pointy beaks for weapons, is enough to make anyone soil themselves in fear.

Talking of boxers, Brutus has a special friend – a boxer called ‘Vader’, they snot on each other and even lick each others drool, that is after they have done the genital thing, they are both ‘special’ boys and could lick the windows on any bus that was on offer.

Brutus and his new friend Vader

Rocky got quite jealous last week when Brutus met up with Vader and went out for a run with him, in fact Rocky didn’t just rubbish Brutus and call him a ‘wanker’ when he got back, he duffed him up as well and pissed on his head (yes really!).

Vader and Rocky argue frequently from their respective gardens, Rocky calls him a ‘snub nose twattery’ from his side of the fence and Vader calls him a ‘Sheep abuser’ from his side of the fence and the little staffie from the garden opposite usually yells out ‘You are all a pair of girls’ or other similar comments but he normally ends up sounding as though he has been choked in the normal staffie ‘talking’ kind of way.

As Rocky bristles purely by looking at boxers, he could not believe that Brutus went out for a play date with Vader and refused to talk to Brutus for 5 minutes when he got home and it was only when Brutus started crying like a girl, that Rocky relented and made up with him.

Best friends and sharer of boxer mucous!

So today was Rocky’s turn for some ‘Boxer De-sensitisation’ and was led to Vaders garden to wait for him to come out to the park.

‘I don’t know why we are out without Brutus, and I don’t know why we are here’ Rocky sighed in a sulky kelpie voice.

‘You are going out with Vader today’ I told him in a firm voice and then added ‘Part of your training to rehabilitate you into realising that not all dogs are big testicle bastards that are going to go-you and attack you due to an over surge in testosterone due to their owners not desexing them’

Rocky looked totally horrified and mortified both at once. ‘I, am not, repeat NOT; going out with that!’ He said in a high pitched voice as Vader came out of his garden, all proud with his tail erect in the air, his purple head collar on, snorting and choking in excitement and prancing around like a Hackney trotting pony, in happy disbelief that he had another friend to play with.

‘Are you my new friend? I don’t have many friends, Brutus is my friend, do you know Brutus?’ Vader said in a very quick hyperactive voice, he spoke so quickly it all came out in one breath, then he sneezed particles of snot everywhere and tried to remove his purple head collar.

Looking disgusted, Rocky pretended that either he nor Vadar wasn’t there – dear god this was not going to happen. They were actually going to make him walk with a boxer!

Rocky prefers swimming and tennis balls to anything else in the world!

‘Do you know Brutus?’ Vader repeated his question.

‘I am his brother’ Rocky replied in a stiff voice, he was trying ever so hard to disown the handsome brown and white boxer dog but Vader was trying to get close to him and in a desperate bid to look ‘cool’, wiped his face along the grass and ended up doing some sort of ‘break dance’ with his arse in the air and his front part on the ground as he pushed along like a special dog with his tongue hanging out like a bright pink piece of wet ham.

Once we got to the courts where they could go off the leash, well Rocky went off the leash and Vader stayed on as he was so over excited that he wanted to jump on Rocky’s head but that would have been too much for the little black kelpie ‘with issues’.

Vader stopped what he was doing and looked up at Rocky, ‘Are you the dog that calls me a twat – minge wanker?’ Vader asked slowly.

‘Are you the dog that calls me a sheep molester and a common kelpie from Bunbury that dresses up as a lamb in my spare time?’ Rocky asked in a dangerous voice.

The two dogs momentarily glared at each other with the realisation that the dog that they had been hurling insults at from over the fences for the past two months, were in fact each other.

‘You bastard!’ Vader yelled.

‘Wanker’ Rocky yelled back and then they had a momentary scuffle with Vader on the leash and Rocky off the leash – it was all noise and mucous really and sounded more dramatic than it was. Verbal insults took place like ‘squashed face’ and ‘sheep shagger’ from both parties.

Rocky did a few kelpie herding circles round Vader while barking his head off until he got the firm arm signal and voice from me making him stop what he is doing and sit – which he did very reluctantly as he was enjoying the argument – safe in the knowledge that he was off the leash and Vader was on the leash.

After the ‘disagreement’, we decided to go back as it was rather hot and as we walked home, both boys looked a bit embarrassed by their behaviour.

‘I could have eaten you had I wanted to’ Vader muttered to Rocky.

‘Yeah right and I could have bitten your brown arse’ Rocky replied and then lit a fag, after looking at Vader coldly for a few seconds, he pulled out his packet of ‘Kelpie no: 10’ kelpie cigarettes and offered Vader one.

Taking the cigarette, Vader let Rocky light it for him. Although Vader doesnt normally smoke but didn’t want to show himself up in front of Rocky. Taking a deep puff of the fag which contained catnip and Schmacko chews, Vader coughed his guts up and tried to blame it on a cold virus.

‘Hey, I saw a nice poodle coming out of yours the other day, lovely arse on her’ Rocky said as the boys walked back.

‘Was that the white one?’ Vader replied grinning at Rocky.

‘Yeah I think so, she was hot’ Rocky nodded in a way that only a perverted male can do when he looks at Kylie Minogues arse.

‘She is a regular, Mum clips her up all the time’ Vader told Rocky.

‘Reckon you can get her number for me?’ Rocky asked hopefully. The dogs were walking quite calmly now, and aside from Vader trying to stuff his snout up Rocky’s arse, it was all going swimmingly.

Vader looked up thoughtfully and replied ‘Yeah, I reckon I can, I know some hot bitches that come round for their clips and beauty treatments, I even have photos of them with no collars on’

Rocky looked jealous ‘Lucky bastard, wish I could see them all’.

‘I can get you a back stage pass, you can dress up to be a poodle and Mum can clip you and you can meet the bitches’ Vader said happily. He was over excited now – he could use this and work it to make him the most popular dog on the block – think ‘Project X’. He could see it now, a pool party in the garden with Rocky and Brutus and all the hot bitches in bikinis, the boys would do the BBQ, there would be cool music on and no adult humans to ruin it. Oh yes, he was going to milk this – round up the poodles and remove their collars, he would be the envy of the suburb!

‘Right, that’s us, we are home now’ I told Rocky as we went to the house, Vader looked at Rocky and said nervously ‘Bye Rocky, see you again?’

Rocky stared back and said ‘Catch ya later’

And with that, both dogs were taken to their respective homes.

‘Wanker!’ Rocky yelled to Vader as he went in his house.

‘Sheep shagger from Bunbury!’ Vader yelled back before doing the ‘boxer sneeze’.

But this time, Rocky had a little smile on his face and when Rocky was having a drink in the garden, I could just about hear him talking to Brutus who had broken his ridgeback heart because he had been left behind and howled like a baby from his room when we went out.

‘Here Turd Legs, guess what? – Vader can introduce us to poodles in bikinis and everything and we are going to have a party, can you imagine how popular we will be?’ Rocky was telling a wide eyed Brutus who had forgotten all about being upset about Rocky going out without him.

‘I thought you hated Vader’ Brutus asked Rocky.

Rocky shrugged his shoulders and replied simply ‘He is OK’

‘For a boxer’ Brutus added – grinning in his typical ridgeback grin.

Rocky dipped his head into the water bowl, had a drink and then replied ‘Yeah, for a boxer’.

‘Love ya Rocky, you are my new best friend!’ Vaders voice yelled from over the fence – still panting from his walk.

‘Wanker!’ Rocky shouted back.

And with that all three boys burst out laughing, sniggering in a way that only naughty dogs can.

Best friends? Who knows but one day at a time and all that.

Don’t Miss The Morning! (so Rocky says)

Posted on September 30, 2013 by Samantha Rose

I am beginning to realise that my ‘baby’ Ridgie-Kelpie is more than a touch too spoilt, as is Rocky dog.

Each and every Saturday/Sunday morning at 6.30am without fail, Rocky waits by our bedroom door whinging, telling me to ‘hurry up, get a move on, be quick or we will miss it’.

Rocky doesn’t want to miss the morning

‘What will we miss Rocky?’ I have asked him on each occasion that I would like to stay in bed for just an hour longer.

‘Life’ He replied, ‘We are missing out on life, it’s started and it comes with tennis balls’.

My little black ‘beetle dog’ as he is known, trembles outside my door which ultimately makes the normally lazy Brutus get up in his crate and demand to be let out so he too can catch ‘life and its tennis balls’ before it passes him by.

That is my hint to get up. I open Brutus’s crate and he always stares at me thoughtfully, pondering on whether or not life will wait for him, Rocky decides on Brutus’s behalf that life in fact waits for noone and neither do tennis balls and Brutus stands up, and as he gets out of his crate, he stretches his long, brown and muscular body and uses his whippy tail to whip the shit out of my legs, the bin and anything else it may come into contact with. It is now 6.35am.

I let both boys out into the garden, Brutus idly stares at the Yucca and palm trees and licks his lips, should he eat them yet or is it too early for a ‘green breakfast’? However, he is still half asleep and hasn’t quite got Rocky’s mindset that ‘life is a tennis ball that needs to be caught and played with until your hips give out and you die, then you go to doggy heaven where you can chase tennis balls until your hearts content or you piss God off by barking and he is forced to put a religious ‘bark collar’ around your neck.

Sleepily I set about fixing the boys breakfast and put a scoop of dog chow in each bowl, placing one bowl in Brutus’s crate, then I tidy his favourite fluffy cot blanket which he literally refuses to settle unless he has it. I have to wash it, put it in the drier and then give it back to him and woe betide me if I don’t. Actually, I am on the lookout for spare thick fluffy cot blankets if anyone has spares they no longer use.

6.45am – I am tired and this time I vow to myself that I will go back to bed with Abdel and leave Brutus in his puppy crate, enjoying his dog chow and he WILL go to sleep afterwards.

Except that doesn’t happen, it never happens and I don’t even know why I try and fight it for I, have created a big brown 30kg 10 month old monster – my ridgie-kelpie Brutus, yes I have made him spoilt and he knows, I know it and Rocky knows it – hell even Gordon knows it.

I call the boys in, Brutus goes straight into his open crate and Rocky goes straight back to his bed – so far so good (not!).

Shutting the crate, I can hear Brutus noisily and hungrily snarfing down his breakfast, he is such a noisy and piggy little eater – he loves his food and would eat shit if you put sauce on it, actually he has eaten Gordons shit without sauce on it.

I creep out of the living room and sneak back into the bedroom, my goodness, I am hiding from my own dogs.

6.50am – I am back snuggled in bed with Abdel. He takes no notice of me, he knows there is no point, he knows exactly what will happen and he turns to his side and goes back to sleep.

6.55am – sounds of Brutus whinging doing high pitched puppy cries.

‘You have to come back now! Life is happening, we shall miss it and it comes with tennis balls and palm trees for me to chew!’ Brutus shouts from his crate. Rocky looks on proudly, he has this ‘life thing’ well and truly sussed, you would have to get up early in the morning to catch him out because life will never pass him by, he simply will not allow it to (just like a tennis ball).

(sounds of me sighing)

7.00am – ‘That’s it, I have my drugs to take at 7.30am, I may as well get up now’ I said rather feebly to Abdel.

No answer was the loud reply.

7.002am, I am in the kitchen making a coffee, grabbing my medication to take with it, I stared at Brutus who was in his crate, gripping the corner of his fluffy blanket looking very ‘puppy-like’ in his actions. I guess he is still a puppy at 10 months and it is all to easy to forget that when you look at his size and weight.

Brutus – still a ‘baby’ at 10 months old

Grabbing the blanket, I snuggle up with my iPhone on the sofa and play a few games of ‘Bejewelled’. Rocky walks up to me as he does each and every Sat/Sun morning, he puts his two front paws on the sofa, rests his huge kelpie head on my chest so I get a whiff of dog-breath, and he leans with his hind legs on the floor so it technically doesnt constitute being on the sofa – something he is not allowed to do. However, it still constitutes a ‘kelpie cuddle’ as the little black dog wraps his front paws around my arm and happily falls asleep while snuggling down into my fleecy PJ top.

(sounds of scratching at the door)

‘Oh god, here we go’ I mutter to myself.

‘Quick, it’s starting – ‘life’ is happening and we cant miss it and it comes in the form of ‘Snappy Tom’ cat food!’ Gordon yells from his bedroom in his ginger voice.

‘Bloody hell’ I sigh and then get up to let Gordon out so he too doesnt miss out on ‘life’.

Gordon also doesn’t like to miss out on life (or Snappy Tom)

7.10am – I am back curled up on the sofa, sipping my coffee, taking my drugs. Rocky is back on his bed fast asleep, Gordon is happily watching life go by from the dining room window and Brutus has stopped crying like a girl, and is fast asleep snoring like a piglet.

They know I am on the sofa wrapped up in a blanket, they know I will remain here until breakfast and not one of them shall make a sound, they are fast asleep and they are content.

They are also too spoilt, they know it and I know it. This is a weekly occurrence, the 6.30am wake up call, the call to tell me that life is happening, grab it and don’t let go.

For if I was to go back to the bedroom, Brutus would cry, Rocky would wait by the bedroom door and Gordon would just say ‘fuck you’ and destroy the blinds.

I could of course go back to sleep on the sofa should I want to. Except that the sounds of the parrots and birds in my garden is too nice to ignore and I don’t want to miss it, the silence surrounding that is very peaceful indeed. So I won’t go back to bed, I shall stay here.

Besides, we are going out in an hour or so for breakfast with the boys and then take them round the park.

Brutus and Rocky spoilt? Yeah, I reckon they are but what can I say – you have to get up early, life is happening.

And it is happening with tennis balls (according to Rocky).

Donkey – the ‘Yard Boy’

Posted on July 3, 2013 by Samantha Rose

Stu should know that if you shake with a paw with Donkey then its ‘law’

My sincerest apologies for not updating sooner, I have had so much going on and really have not had a chance to write.

As you know, on the last update about Donkey, he was being fostered by Sue L and enjoying his life in the haulage yard in Karratha. Donkey and a guy called Stu had become firm friends and apparently had been hanging out together in the Yard, going for smoko together and discussing boys things like beer, women and AFL.

Handsome Prince or ‘HP’ as he is known, had tried in vain to pretend that Donkey meant nothing to him and was just another foster dog but something happened and I don’t know what, to make HP realise what a valuable asset Donkey is to the yard – guarding it against feral cats that wear leather jackets and are known for carrying flick knives, threatening people and being intimidating.

Quite simply, Donkey knew his worth and made sure HP did and Handsome Prince being who he is – tough on the outside and heart of gold on the inside of that rugged handsome frame, soon accepted that Donkey was going nowhere. Sue was rather pleased about this as she had grown to love Donkey and even her dog Malcolm had become friends with him and they enjoyed bin raiding together on a regular basis.

Donkey was advertised by SAFE for a new home while being fostered by Sue and because there was no interested in the deformed little (big) dog, Sue had decided that she would adopt Donkey. Strangely enough, once this had been decided, potential owners started to make enquiries about Donkey but this was short lived as the boys in the yard had threatened an uprising if Donkey left and even Malcolm promised he would go on a hunger strike for two hours if Donkey was re-homed.

So Donkey was officially adopted by Sue L and Stu was exceedingly happy about the situation, in fact all the boys were – Donkey was their mate and he enjoyed talking about the skimpies girls with the lads, Donkey even took the boys to the doggy version of the skimpies bar where local Karratha female dogs got to flash more than their dog collars to the male dogs. That in itself is a privilege because dogs have their own world and if they allow you into it, you are very lucky, I know because my dogs allow me access and I can ‘talk dog’ which is how I am able to tell you these stories. You should hear some of the stuff that I am privy to, it would make your toes curl.

Clicky Hips!

Unfortunately although Donkey’s story appears to be going well, Sue had noticed that Donkey was very stiff in his hind legs and x-rays have revealed that he has rather severe hip dysplasia and has been prescribed medication, which if that doesnt work, he may well need a hip replacement. It is a bad diagnosis for Donkey who is only young and after his adventures, has his new life in Karratha to look forward to so this is not good news at all.

One of the boys called Uncle Les, has also has hip issues and as Donkey was having his photo taken one day, Sue had brought Les a chair outside so that he could sit down. Uncle Les went to take a seat but before you could say ‘Cliff Richard’, Donkey had jumped in it and refused to move.

Uncle Les is the one on the far left in the black shirt – Donkey felt his need for the chair was greater

‘Bollocks, my need is greater than yours!’ Donkey said firmly as Sue shook her head in disbelief – she had brought that chair out for Uncle Les and now Donkey had stolen it! And that was not the only thing he had stolen, he had been sighted driving in Handsome Princes scooter down the main road in Karratha yelling his head off to the Dingos but that is another story.

Uncle Les laughed ‘Don’t worry, Donkey can have it’

Looking rather smug, Donkey remained on the chair with his legs wide apart, flashing his genitals which he was absurdly proud of because he was somewhat well endowed for his size and even the local kangaroos were jealous of his manhood.

‘You up for the skimpies tonight Donkey?’ Stu asked his little friend.

Donkey glanced up and looked thoughtful, taking a swig of his tea he replied ‘Yep, but as long as they don’t play Cliff Richard on the juke box I don’t mind’ (all dogs hate listening to Cliff Richard as it constitutes as an assault on ones ear drums).

Stu laughed and reassured Donkey that Cliff would not be playing on the juke box.

The banter carried on for a bit until Donkey was asked if he wanted to ride the road train for a trip – road trains excited Donkey, well those and Utes and forklifts of course.

‘Uncle Les?’ Donkey asked later that day.

Uncle Les patted the tatty terrier on his head ‘Yes Donkey?’

‘I didn’t mean to pinch your chair but my hips are bad too’ Donkey said, blushing somewhat.

‘That’s OK, we can have clicky hips together’ Uncle Les laughed and then leant over to straighten Donkeys collar.

‘Uncle Les?’ Donkey asked again.

‘Yes Donkey?’ Uncle Les replied.

‘Is this my real home now?’ Donkey asked, looking suddenly quite scared.

‘Yes Donkey, it is your real home’ Uncle Les smiled and gave Donkey a reassuring pat.

Desert Dogs ‘do bins’ ( middle of the night)

‘Shhhh, she will hear you!’ Malcolm (Sue’s other dog) hissed to Donkey who’s face was covered in some kind of sauce.

‘Hell man, this bin is my favourite!’ Donkey said in a muffled voice as he tried to get his head out of a baked bean can.

‘Every bin is your favourite Derro Dog’ Malcolm snorted – Derro Dog was Malcolm’s nickname for Donkey.

‘Bugger me, there is a bit of fish wrapped in tissue, that has my name on it!’ Donkey shouted.

‘Shut up, Mum will hear you!’ Malcolm tried to silence Donkey.

But eventually the temptation was too much for the normally sensible Malcolm and he tried to grab the fish and tissue from Donkey which resulted in the bin being knocked to the floor and all the rubbish falling out of it.

‘You greedy fat bastard!’ Malcolm shouted to Donkey and then added ‘Have you farted?’

(sounds of Sue getting up)

‘What the hell is going on?’ Sue demanded sleepily.

Both dogs looked as guilty as hell, Donkey had sauce on his face and paws, Malcolm had some fish and tissue on him, they stood erect, puffed out their chests and smoothed their beards in a way that only guilty dogs can.

‘Shhh, say nothing, blame the cat!’ Malcolm hissed.

‘We don’t have a cat’ Donkey replied looking confused, well that was OK they could pretend they had a cat and it would be called ‘Ginger’

Wearily picking up the rubbish and placing it back in the bin and cleaning up the mess, Sue ordered the dogs back to their beds and told them to think about what they had done and she would deal with them in the morning.

‘Have you crapped yourself?’ Malcolm wrinkled his nose in disgust as he sniffed the air.

Donkey blushed, he had indeed farted and it smelt like rotting hamsters if he did say so himself.

‘Was it worth it do you think, getting caught in the bins?’ Donkey said to Malcolm as they snuggled up into their blankets.

Malcolm was silent for a minute and then replied ‘Hell yeah!’

(sounds of both dogs snorting with laughter)

Malcolm sniffed the air – he could smell farts again.

‘Donkey, what the hell have you eaten?’ He demanded.

‘Mushrooms and baked beans from the bin and maybe some tissues’ Donkey said.

‘You are going to shit the bed before long!’ Malcolm said horrified.

‘Malcolm?’ Donkey whispered.

‘Yes Donkey?’ Malcolm said sleepily.

(sounds of silence, smells of bad stomach)

‘Bet you five bucks you can’t raid the bin in the haulage yard without HP seeing you’ Donkey said excitedly.

‘Goodnight Donkey!’ and with that, Malcolm fell asleep.

Donkey reserves the right to raid all bins!

Until next time…..

Sue and Donkey

Finally, may I just add that it takes a special kind of pet owner to adopt a dog with pre existing health problems and the fact that Sue loves him and has adopted him knowing this, well every dog deserves an owner like Sue who is prepared to stick with their pets through thick and thin – Sue, you are brilliant.

The Pigaloo Diaries

The magical world of talking animals and my view on life

Tag Archives: animals

Brutus learns the real meaning of Christmas

Chinese (Crested) Whispers and your dog

Lure Coursing, breaking barriers and greyhound dramatics

Lure Coursing and a day of mourning (according to Barney)

The Night Before Lure Coursing August 2014

The Secret World of Dogs – and Lure Coursing

A Day at the Races

Rocky, Vader and the beginning of a beautiful friendship (with mucous)

Rocky can ‘do smart’ when he has to!

Brutus and his new friend Vader

Rocky got quite jealous last week when Brutus met up with Vader and went out for a run with him, in fact Rocky didn’t just rubbish Brutus and call him a ‘wanker’ when he got back, he duffed him up as well and pissed on his head (yes really!).

Best friends and sharer of boxer mucous!

So today was Rocky’s turn for some ‘Boxer De-sensitisation’ and was led to Vaders garden to wait for him to come out to the park.

Rocky prefers swimming and tennis balls to anything else in the world!

‘Do you know Brutus?’ Vader repeated his question.

‘Sheep shagger from Bunbury!’ Vader yelled back before doing the ‘boxer sneeze’.

Best friends? Who knows but one day at a time and all that.

Don’t Miss The Morning! (so Rocky says)

Donkey – the ‘Yard Boy’