Dogs Do Denmark – The Adventures of Rocky and Brutus

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Brutus and Rocky love their road trips

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

This is a story that I wrote a couple of years ago when Brutus was only a young dog and Gordon was still alive. So much has happened since I wrote it that it forgot about it on my hard drive and I never bothered finishing it.

After going through my computer last night, I found this story and read through it again. It brought back so many memories of that trip that I had to finish it as it seems a waste not to.

It’s about when we took Brutus on his first ever holiday with Rocky down South to Denmark, WA and of course it is about their adventures and what they got up to.

Like many of my talking animals stories, this contains adult humour and some adult language – nothing too bad but it isn’t really be suitable for children. No offence is intended and all characters except for my boys, are fictitious and any resemblance to any talking cattle, dogs, horses etc either living or dead is purely coincidental. Unless of course, you know of a few horses that can talk – in which case send them to me as I would like to interview them.

This is a long read of nearly 15,000 words so you may as well put your feet up, grab a drink and some snacks, shut the door and take your time. If anyone asks you what you are reading, don’t tell them it’s about talking animals – they will think you are nuts.

Hope you like the story.

We’re all going on a Summer holiday! – Packing for the trip

Brutus was busy packing his bags for his first ever holiday trip away with his family.

Having decided that at two years old he was quite old enough to go on a trip away, we were still concerned as to how Brutus would take being away from his home comforts. And although Tony Abbott was coming, none of us knew how it would pan out.

‘Right, are you ready Turd Legs?’ Rocky grinned to Brutus. Rocky was totally a ‘country dog’ and actually the perfect dog to take travelling. Coming from a working farm, there was little if anything that Rocky didn’t know about the country and was a seasoned traveller/camper and expert of all things cows, pigs, goats, horses and sheep.

‘Do they speak English down South?’ Brutus asked Rocky, he had packed his own English dictionary just in case they didn’t.

Giving Brutus a withering look, Rocky smirked ‘Of course they speak English, even the sheep’.

‘What’s a sheep?’ Brutus asked Rocky looking totally confused.

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‘What’s a Sheep?’ says Brutus

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

But before Rocky had chance to answer, it was time to get loaded up into the car with Gordon who was going to be dropped off at the vets.

‘I am so excited, are you excited Gordon? I am so excited I might shit myself.’ Brutus said nervously.

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Gordon was not amused at going to the vet

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘From the smell of it you already have. No I am not excited because unlike you, I have to stay at the vets for the week and Mum has warned them about me so I suspect they will hide all the towels from me.’ Gordon said fretfully.

‘You mean you are not coming away with us?’ Brutus asked looking upset.

‘Nope, I always stay at the vets when Mum and Dad go away on their holidays.’ Gordon sighed.

Twenty minutes later we had arrived at the vets and Gordon was handed over to the capable hands of the nurses to be taken to the cattery where he would spend the next week in the company of other cats, where they would discuss the tactics of carpet shredding, anus washing and dietary habits.

‘Love you Gordon!’ Brutus yelled out to him as the nurse carried him off in his cage.

But Gordon didn’t answer him and the last Brutus saw of him was his fat ginger bum squishing through the squares in his wire cat basket.

‘I love my brother Gordon.’ Brutus said quietly to himself and strained his eyes at the vet surgery until we had turned the corner to take the road to ‘holiday’.

On the road

‘Are we there yet?’ Brutus asked impatiently. Totally unused to being in the car for anything longer than a trip to the polo grounds for lure coursing, 90 minutes in the car seemed like days to him.

Raising his eyebrows, Rocky shook his head and wished that he were an only child for once. He loved his road trips and this was his third time in Denmark.

A totally self-sufficient kelpie, he had also been to Cervantes, Margaret River, Pinjarra and twice to Dwellingup and could even put up the tent himself and set up the BBQ for everyone.

‘If you need me to take a turn with the driving I am quite happy to’ Rocky said obligingly. And he could as well; Rocky was well-known for his driving skills and used to be a regular feature in Fremantle driving my Yaris when I had it.

‘Are we there yet?’ Brutus asked again and then promptly farted.

 

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Rocky – a well-travelled kelpie

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Disgusting bastard, you are so uncouth!’ Rocky growled and turned around to face the window to do the ‘I am an only dog’ thing that he did when Brutus shamed him.

We stopped about 2 hours into the journey for a coffee and the boys had a drink of water and a leg stretch before we got back in the car for the next session of the journey.

It was all getting rather messy and by messy I mean the car. Having carefully placed the (brand new) seat protector cover on the back of the car seat to protect it from dog hairs, Brutus spent just seconds roughing it up, lifting it off and generally making the back of the (new) car look like a ‘rug of Brutus’ with his fur.

‘Vader taught me how to remove car seat covers; Vader said that seat covers are for girls and guinea pigs.’ He said proudly.

Sighing impatiently his exuberant young brother, Rocky pressed his snout on the window – it was going to be a long journey.

‘I know, let’s play a game! I spy with my brown eyes, something beginning with ‘G’ and you will never guess what it is!’ Brutus squeaked in a high-pitched voice, which indicated that he was already over excited.

‘I give up.’ Rocky growled as he was in no mood for this game.

After several failed guesses and threats to throw Brutus from the window for being annoying, Rocky really did give up and I could not be bothered to enter into the spirit of things either and just let the boys squabble and argue in the back of the car.

‘Can’t you guess?’ Brutus barked.

‘No, I can’t – you will have to tell me.’ Rocky said firmly. Rocky being a peaceful kind of road-tripper, liked to alternate between sleep and looking out of the window on his car trips, not making small talk.

‘Genitals, as in look at the size of mine and you thought I never had any!’ Brutus laughed raucously.

Glancing down at Brutus’s, Rocky looked part horrified and part jealous as Rocky is not blessed in the genital department and never has been. Up until now, he had always thought that Brutus had no penis because one would never guess otherwise by looking at him.

‘Brutus, that is disgusting! Mum, Brutus is being so disgusting that he is THE most disgusting dog ever!’ Rocky shouted to me sounding so offended that I thought he might vomit and trust me nobody does ‘offended’ quite like Rocky.

‘Oh Rocky, it can’t be that bad’ I soothed the furious little black kelpie dog who had now pursed his lips together and looked the epitome of disgust, disapproval and envy.

I looked at Brutus to see what Rocky was so upset about and I saw it for myself and had I not seen it, I would not have believed it because I sure as hell don’t know where he has been hiding such a thing all this time.

There on the back seat sat Brutus with his legs apart, looking absurdly proud of himself with his genitals on full display and without going in to too much detail, Brutus’s manhood was hanging out in all its glory.

Rocky is a bit of a prude as you will have gathered, he goes to Church on a Sunday, is friends with the Vicar, subscribes to ‘Your Cattle Monthly’ and ‘How to herd sheep in twenty minutes’, so you can imagine how offended Rocky was to see such a thing with Brutus looking proud as punch in to the bargain.

‘I am not talking to you, you are just showing off.’ Rocky said looking as though Brutus had shit on his monthly sheep magazine.

But Brutus said nothing, he didn’t need to really – his genitals had spoken loudly enough for everyone.

The Stopover

We had hoped to stop at a cafe somewhere, but drove straight past where we wanted to go and couldn’t be bothered to turn round, so we pulled into a side turning and found a decent secluded bush to let the boys cock their leg or in Brutus’s case, squat and urinate down himself.

‘Brutus, can you go for a pee please?’ I said firmly as he hadn’t urinated since we had left the house that morning.

‘Don’t need to go because I have a bladder like the size of a watermelon.’ Brutus barked proudly (don’t know where he got that saying from), ‘Oh my god, this smells good – let me roll in it!’  Frantically circling a patch on the grass, Brutus attempted to lower his head to smother himself in whatever delightfully disgusting scent he had found.

I didn’t immediately see it but by God I could smell it and when I looked at the direction of the smell, I saw a large kangaroo carcass at the side of the bush and Brutus was joyously about to roll in it.

‘Oh Pippin would love this, come on Rocky – fancy a go, we can roll together!’ Brutus shouted to Rocky who threw him a dirty look.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ Rocky growled, ‘Stop it right now, you will rot the car out.’

‘I am getting back to nature, this is what dogs do in the wild, I am getting in touch with my wild side and we are having roo tails tonight for tea so I thought I would roll in what we will be eating.’ Brutus tried to reason.

‘Pippin would indeed be proud of you Brutus but no, you are NOT going to roll in this kangaroo.’ I insisted and tried not to breathe in as it smelt vile as you can imagine but I did marvel at the skeletal system of the animal.

After Brutus’s non-existent pee, we got the dogs back in the car and safely strapped in for the last part of the journey.

‘Are we there yet?’ Brutus asked Rocky.

‘No, Brutus, but we are nearly there.’ Rocky replied.

‘How do you know?’ Brutus demanded.

‘How? Because I can smell it, that is how.’ Rocky said smugly and being a country dog at heart and viewing Denmark as his second home, I totally believed that he could ‘smell it’ as well.

‘The only thing I can smell is my farts.’ Brutus said impatiently as Rocky shook his head and pressed his snout on the glass.

Rocky wasn’t sensible for the entire journey I might add because by the time we took our turning to Denmark, he had de-thawed his frosty attitude somewhat and both boys were happily singing ‘We’re all going on a summer holiday’ in between Rocky telling Brutus about the wonderful time he would have and if he was a good boy, he would even show him how to herd sheep.

Denmark (Home Sweet Home)

 The only time I see my little black kelpie show emotion is when he gets to places that he loves – the beach or the countryside. For me personally, I love the countryside and the forest.

As we pulled into the road that led to our Chalet, Rocky started to cry and Brutus not knowing why his brother was crying, decided to join him. I can’t actually fault him on that because whenever any of my friends cry, I also cry with them without even knowing the reason.

‘Where are we?’ Brutus demanded in between howling, sobbing and twitching his snout trying to pick up the scent of the area.

‘Home, is where we are my friend – home.’ Rocky said wistfully.

The house

‘Can I have this bedroom?’ Brutus shouted as he ran from room to room.

‘No Brutus, your bed will be in the corridor – no way would I trust you to be left alone in here.’ I had visions of waking up the next morning to see Brutus cooking breakfast after draining the bottles of wine that we had bought with us.

I have to say that the house had a beautiful big garden, like so enormous it could have had a few goats in it and probably a sheep as well.

Rocky who has hip dysplasia and has a limiting life as he cannot go off leash and have his beloved tennis balls thrown for him, was thrilled to have such a large garden to trot around.

‘Mum! Mum! We have sheep, we have cows, we have alpacas, we have chickens and we have ponies and it is MY job to look after them!’ Rocky barked with excitement. Trotting around and full of his own self-importance, he took in the sights, sounds and smells of the livestock.

Looking up at me with the biggest smile on his kelpie face, Rocky nodded towards the livestock and said ‘Give me ten minutes and I will just bring this lot in for you.’

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Rocky checking out the garden

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Running up to the fence to try to intimidate a cow and its friends, Rocky sized up the enormous beast and her mates and quivered at the challenge of herding them up.

‘Who the hell are you?’ yelled the cow from the other side of the fence, ‘And what do you think you are doing?’

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Cows can be so judgemental

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘I am what is known as discipline that is WHO I am and I am here to show you some!’ Rocky said confidently and then proceeded to trot around the perimeter of the fence  while the other cows just looked on and laughed at the little kelpie who had been on their farm for just ten minutes and had tried to take over in true kelpie fashion.

‘Oh god, another one who thinks he is in charge.’ giggled a group of chickens in high-pitched gossipy voices. Rocky glared at them and had a particular grudge against the hens from that day on and they became known as “the gossiping chickens”.

There is nothing more powerful than a gang of farm animals when an intruder comes on to their property and it really is like the movie ‘Babe’ in terms of clique.  Sheep will laugh, cows and ponies will snigger and as for the chickens, they will make you feel very small with their shrill voices.

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Alpacas – They can be bullies you know

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

But the worst of them all, the absolute worst ever are the alpacas and if you don’t believe me, I shall elaborate.

On this farm were herds of alpacas, black ones, white ones, dirty looking ones, brown ones – there were heaps of them.

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‘The Julies’ – now visualise them with pearl necklaces and woolen jumpers, or doing their cardio in the mornings while wearing leotards and leg warmers

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

We had decided to take both boys on a long walk on the farm as the owner had shown us the paths we could take. It was a good walk with livestock either side of the path behind their fences and of course, our boys were on the leash at all times (you will have to use your imagination for some parts of the story).

The alpacas on this farm were in their own gang called ‘The Julies’. Now I don’t know if they were male or female but I am going on the assumption that they were female.

In my eyes and imagination ‘The Julies’ on this farm all wore sensible woolly jumpers, pearl necklaces and had haircuts from the early 80s with a tight poodle perm on top of their heads between their erect ears that were not unlike Rocky’s kelpie ones.

They followed each sentence with a giggle and a snort and chewed gum in insolent fashion as they blew large bubbles and popped them from their mouths and if you upset them would spit at you and call you a ‘loser’.

Brutus had never seen farm animals before and especially had never come across a group like ‘The Julies’.

I do need to stress that there is actually a stark difference between Brutus and Rocky in terms of how they perceive farm animals. Rocky looks at any farm animal and thinks ‘Let’s get this lot in order’ and has a burning ingrained desire to herd them up, tidy them up and bring them in.

Brutus on the other hand sees farm animals and thinks ‘lunch’.   So you can imagine his face when he saw ‘The Julies’ who glared back at him accusingly.

‘What on earth is that meant to be – a dog or a kangaroo?’ One of ‘The Julies’ gasped to the rest of the herd as they stared at Brutus who was trying to work out if these strange animals tasted as good as dog chow.

‘God knows but I think it could be a mix of both.’ said another Julie in the group.

‘Whatever it is, it’s a Townie.’ a large cow said to a black horse who sniggered in response.

‘How can you tell?’ One of the Julies asked the cow, ‘That it’s a Townie?’

‘How? Because no self-respecting farm dog would be seen dead in one of those head collars!’ The cow grinned which made The Julies giggle loudly.

‘Now THAT however, is a proper farm dog.’ said the black horse to the other animals who all nodded appreciatively at the sight of Rocky who was proudly wearing his Australian flag neckerchief while fixing his gaze on the Julies, cows and horses in the field and trying to do a head count.

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Rocky – the perfect farm dog

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Kelpie!’ The cow yelled to Rocky who looked up and gave a ‘thumbs up’ signal back to the cow.

‘Any sheep for me to back-in or shall I concentrate on you lot?’ Rocky asked confidently and he meant it too. Rocky is a proper farm dog and would totally live on a farm if he could.

‘No Kelpie, no working dogs here but if it makes you happy you can herd us from your side of the fence’ shouted the black horse back to Rocky who looked thrilled with being given such a task.

‘Who is the Townie?’ One of The Julies shouted out to Rocky.

‘That is my brother Brutus, he isn’t a farm dog.’ Rocky said apologetically to The Julies.

‘Oh we have gathered that.’ one of the cows said firmly.

‘How can you tell?’ Rocky laughed.

‘How can we tell? THAT is how we can tell!’ yelled the black horse to Rocky and nodded over to Brutus who was chasing some of The Julies from his side of the fence while clutching a knife, fork and plate and shouting ‘Don’t panic, I just want to see what you taste like!’

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Brutus – not a farm dog

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

The Julies were making high-pitched squeals and were scattering in all directions while clutching their pearl necklaces around their necks and pulling ‘Queen Elizabeth’ pouts with their lips as Brutus ran from the other side holding his cutlery and plate and shouting something about ‘Rump or breast?’

Shaking his head apologetically, a somewhat mortified and embarrassed Rocky shouted ‘Sorry about my brother!’

Anyway, it all ended quite abruptly when one of the cows said to Brutus that he was totally embarrassing himself and if the word got out in Perth about what had just happened, he would make sure that he never lived it down.

‘Get back to the house now!’ Rocky growled at Brutus who looked upset at not being allowed to catch a Julie for supper and for his brother reprimanding him so publicly. I know how that feels as well because if my Mum reprimanded me in public, I would blush and cringe with embarrassment.

As the boys walked back to the house, the cows had gathered by the fence and glared at them, and trust me on this one; nothing gives a dirtier more judgmental look quite like a cow.

The Julies were mortally offended at being chased by Brutus; were busy straightening their pearls and pushing their hair back between their ears. ‘Bloody Townie, we shall make him pay for that!’ One of The Julies muttered to the others.

‘Let us teach him a thing or two about herding.’ the brown shaggy looking Julie squeaked back.

‘Yes – lets!’ The Julies all responded together in robotic fashion until enough momentum had been gained to make the entire herd of cows nod in agreement.

‘Revenge like a boss!’ A huge bull shouted in his deep voice, which sort of finalized the fact that Brutus was going to pay – big time.

But what form that revenge would take would not only shock you and I, but it would totally backfire on them as well.

Grumbles and Rocky

Rocky is not good with other dogs at all as he has been attacked on several occasions not to mention about the amount of un-desexed male dogs allowed to ‘free-range’ in our suburb and charge at him through his own fence and shout obscenities at him which never goes down well as you can imagine.

The farm that we stayed on has a dog called ‘Grumbles’ who looked something like a Labrador/Border collie mix of some sort, Grumbles is like many farm dogs whose bark is worse than his bite and gives out a ‘token guard dog bark’ to look the part when it counts when really it cannot be bothered to do anything other than gossip with visitors and the farm animals.

One day Rocky saw him through the fence and Grumbles stood up with the fur on his back erect. ‘Intruders, they have guns, they have weapons, and they are going to kill us all!’ Grumbles barked furiously towards the farmhouse to tell his owners of the impending danger in the form of a black kelpie dog.

Some hostile barking took place, Grumbles did the warning bark that heralded danger which is a bit like Rocky’s warning bark that he does when the garbage truck comes on a Tuesday but at the end of the day they both meant the same thing ‘Danger – but not really’.

Rocky’s fur also went up on his back and he barked back but straight away, he noticed Grumbles was different from the dogs in our suburb. He was actually very chilled out and although he barked to warn his owners of invisible intruders, both he and Rocky had something in common – they were farm dogs.

The hostilities that would normally have resulted in a fight back at home, ended up with urinating on each others heads, tails held high in a delightful display of high-speed tail wagging, sniffing of each others bums through the fence and a wonderful introduction.

‘So Kelpie, what’s your name?’ Grumbles asked Rocky and then shouted towards his owners cottage ‘Intruder in the garden, don’t worry Mum, I’ve got this covered.’

‘The name is Rocky, what’s your name?’ Rocky smiled back and then cocked his leg to do an invisible piss as he had run out of urine from peeing so much earlier.

‘Grumbles, my name is Grumbles and this is my farm.’ The old dog barked back and in those few moments, my normally dog aggressive kelpie who was suspicious of every dog that he meets, had finally found a friend to talk to that he had something in common with – the world of livestock and farming territory.

‘Tell me Rocky, where are you from? Tell me all about yourself, tell me everything because my world begins and ends on this farm.’ Grumbles stared at Rocky while digging the soil with his arthritic paws.

‘I am from Perth and my life begins and ends in my suburb. In the Summer I go swimming both in the ocean and a special swimming pool for dogs.

‘Every week I protect my street from the garbage truck that threatens to eat us and our families.’ Rocky washed his paws as he told his story.

‘Those garbage trucks are dreadful for eating our families aren’t they? And who is that?’ Grumbles asked nodding in the direction of Brutus who was in his own little world bouncing around the garden trying to catch flies, butterflies and invisible fairies – oblivious to everything around him.

‘That is my brother Brutus’ Rocky growled firmly, ‘He is not a sheep dog but he is very good at lure coursing providing no corners are involved and Mum is at the end to tell  him that he is a good boy and hug him.’

‘That’s very nice indeed. We are all good at something and having a Mum that loves you makes it all rather perfect doesn’t it?’ Grumbles smiled and then pulled out two doggy catnip cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Rocky.

Rocky took a cigarette and Grumbles lit it for him, it was a private moment between farm dogs, where they didn’t need to say much because they just didn’t need to.

Blowing smoke out of their nostrils in the ‘shape of dog’, Rocky and Grumbles stood either side of the fence and compared their lives – a suburban kelpie and a farm dog.

‘Rocky are you happy where you live?’ Grumbles asked Rocky who was staring wistfully at the cows in the field.

Rocky didn’t answer for a moment as he pondered on his answer. Taking a deep breath he replied ‘I am happy if I am with my family, but……’ his voice tailed off.

‘But what? It is an easy enough question, are you happy in the suburbs?’ Grumbles asked again, his greying face stared at Rocky, his eyes opaque from ageing but still with a marvelous ability to ‘soul search’ if he stared at you hard enough.

‘My heart belongs to the farm – and I share my heart with my family because I love them – does that make sense?’ Rocky shrugged.

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Rocky pretends the countryside belongs to him

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Perfectly’ Grumbles replied and then spotting his owner come out of the cottage, he said quickly ‘Better go and do my guard dog thing, catch you later.’ Stubbing his cigarette on the floor with his paws, he then started his obligatory guard dog bark.

‘Intruders, there are intruders in the garden, I shall kill them if you like!’ Grumbles barked loudly at nothing in particular until his Mum called him inside to acknowledge his ‘guard doggy-ness’ and stop him being a nuisance and shattering the peace and quiet of the farm.

Rocky remained outside for a bit and took in the sights and the smells. Oh how he wished he could have his own place like this, he would sure show The Julies a thing or two about respect and as for those chickens, they wouldn’t laugh at him and threaten him with a good pecking, they would respect him.

Still, he was there for a week and for that week he could share the farm with Grumbles, he was sure of that and in his own mind, Rocky could pretend the farm was his.

‘Rocky, Mum is calling us in for tea and we have some kangaroo tail waiting for us, are you coming?’ Brutus barked.

Rocky stared at Brutus who looked so out-of-place on the farm, a cross between Scooby Doo and a kangaroo with a bark that could be heard in the next town and a nature as gentle as any dog owner could wish for in their dog.

Smiling at his brown brother, Rocky shouted ‘Coming, I will race you to the door and the winner gets the biggest bit of roo tail.’

Knowing that Brutus was exceptionally fast and would win paws down, Rocky delighted in watching the clumsy Brutus run to the door and almost smack his snout on the fly screen in order to ‘win’ his supper.

‘I won, I won!’ Brutus said happily as the door was opened for him and both boys waited patiently for their bit of roo tail – Brutus having the bigger bit of course.

Five minutes later all you could hear were the contented sounds of the dogs crunching on their food. Half an hour after that they were fast asleep on the verandah, the only time they moved was to swish their tails to swat the flies.

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Rocky enjoys his roo tail

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Eau de ca dog (manure)

Grumbles and Rocky were in the barn discussing how to win the girls over using doggy type aftershave.

‘Are you serious, do you prefer that one?’ Rocky gasped as Grumbles rubbed some cow shit on his wrists and stuffed it under Rocky’s nose for him to smell.

‘Yep, you have no idea – the bitches love it!’ Grumbles said in a matter-of-fact voice.

‘How about this one?’ Rocky asked as he smeared some alpaca manure (from The Julies) behind his ears.

‘I have tried theirs before but it is a bit of a specialized scent, I have heard that dogs in London would pay handsomely for some turd from The Julies.’ said Grumbles.

‘Now this, is my favourite of all time and reminds me of my farm days in Bunbury.’ Rocky said happily and then proceeded to rub some good old horse shit all over his neck.

‘You can’t beat a bit of horse shit that’s true.’ said Grumbles who then added ‘Have you ever tried turd from a Highland cow?’

Rocky shook his head ‘No I haven’t but I know dogs in London roll in fox shit and that is said to be rather marvelous. Mum’s old whippet bitch Rema almost turned green from rolling in fox so often.’

‘Now fox, that is something I would like to try.’ Grumbles looked jealous.

‘I will try the Highland cow tomorrow if that is OK?’ Rocky asked Grumbles who was busy sniffing different sections of his own body to see which bit of turd worked best.

‘Yes, that will be fine. I shall stick with horse turd for now – you just can’t beat tradition’ Grumbles finalized and then he and Rocky inhaled deeply to enjoy the scent of ‘Eau de Ca horse shit’.

One of The Julies who had been listening in on the boys conversation; peered over the fence and shook her head. She had never understood why dogs enjoyed rolling in turd of various kinds and actually found it all quite uncouth really.

But then again, dogs like Rocky didn’t really see the point in The Julies because they would not be herded up and would be up at stupid times of the morning wearing leotards and leg warmers to do their cardio workout.

That evening Rocky came inside and curled up next to Brutus. ‘Oh my god you smell of horses, Mum! Rocky smells of horses!’ Brutus barked at me.

He did as well and I am not even joking, he smelt like a stable and looked ridiculously proud of it as well. ‘That my friend, is the finest aftershave a dog can have and will guarantee to get you the bitches.’ Rocky said confidently.

‘I think I prefer the dead kangaroo that we saw on the way down.’ Brutus replied but made a mental note to go and see Grumbles in the morning to get some to take home and so he and Vader the boxer could attract the girls in the local park.

Brutus – a country dog in the making

Brutus as I have mentioned is not a farm dog and he is not a country dog. Brutus is in fact a home-comfort-loving dog, a suburban dog that loves his routine, his toys, his family, his bed and his best friends Vader the boxer and Pippin the Iggy.

The only other thing that Brutus loves as much as the above, is lure coursing with his Italian greyhound gang that he hangs around with. But don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t tried to fit in with the country life and despite wanting a taste of The Julies, he had gone to extraordinary lengths to be a country dog.

On one particular morning Rocky had woken up and had planned to go and spend some time with Grumbles.

Rocky noticed that Brutus was not on his bed, which was unusual for him as he is notoriously lazy for getting out of bed in the morning. Perhaps he had gone for a pee or something, who knows but either way Rocky needed to find out where his brother was.

Walking in to the yard, Rocky said good morning to the two Shetland ponies and told the chickens to ‘piss off’ and made comments about ‘roast chicken dinner on Sunday’ causing them to shake their heads and gossip because chickens are excellent at gossiping.

These chickens really bothered Rocky, especially since ‘Dad’ (my husband) was going in to see them every morning to get their fresh eggs and had declared a liking for ‘his girls’ and said that they had a ‘mutual understanding and respect’ for each other.

The girls

Gossiping chickens wearing (imaginary) frilly aprons

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

On hearing sounds of giggling and raucous laughter, Rocky walked to the next field to see what was going on, only to be greeted by The Julies, some cows, the Highland cow, some goats and the black horse.

‘What is going on guys, have you seen my brother?’ Rocky asked the others.

The Julies were in the paddock doing their morning cardio workout to music while wearing their leg warmers and leotards, sweat bands around their heads and their tight curly fringes completing the look. Giggling loudly, they pointed towards a large brown figure in the distance – the unmistakable shape of Brutus.

‘Is that Brutus?’ Rocky strained his eyes.

Grumbles nodded his head and looked embarrassed and replied ‘Yes, I am afraid it is.’

There was Brutus looking larger than life and twice as clumsy, wearing one of those English ‘Deerstalker’ outfits and doing his very best to look like an English country gentleman out on a hunt.

‘Come on you cows, who would like to be tonight’s supper?’ Brutus shouted in his best English accent, which of course he doesn’t have. Brutus has a strong Australian accent but thought an English accent would go with the deerstalker outfit.

Watching him march along the field like an eccentric Englishman, the cows in the field laughed and made rude gestures with their hooves.

‘Brutus, what the hell are you doing?’ Rocky shouted, ‘You are totally embarrassing yourself!’

‘I am trying to fit in with the countryside and blend in, that is what you wanted wasn’t it?’ Brutus barked back looking upset and then shouted ‘Come on, jolly good effort my good man!’ to a fat black cow with a white bow tie mark on its head.

‘You are not blending in Brutus, quite the opposite!’ Rocky hissed at his brother who was blushing at being told off in front of the cows.

‘You look like an idiot’ The Julies all shouted and started giggling loudly while some of them even took out mobile phones to take a video. One can’t even make a fool of oneself these days without someone recording it on their phone.

‘Who asked you? And you are a fine one to talk, look at the state of your fringes!’ Brutus squealed back at them and flash his arse off at them all making them purse their lips in a ‘cat bum’ shape because they were so offended.

‘Did you hear that? Did he say that? He insulted our fringes!’ Several of The Julies all cried together.

‘How disgusting, that is SO rude.’ One of the cows whispered to the elderly Highland cow who was totally in a world of her own and was busy admiring her horns that she was sure would make good coat hooks.

HighlandCow

‘Did you say something dear?’

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Did you say something dear?’ The cow said absent mindedly in her soft Scottish accent.

‘Well technically he is right, your hair is a bit ridiculous, like something out of the eighties with those perms.’ Grumbles butted in the conversation causing them all to shut their mouths as Grumbles never gets involved unless he is really angry.

‘Does my hair look like a poodle perm?’ The head of The Julies asked the horse who was trying not to snort with laughter.

‘Well now you have come to mention it, yes it does.’ the horse replied and then whinnied at his own daring while the bull in the next field started laughing and shouted ‘Nice one my friend!’

And the talk of poodle perms continued long after Brutus was dragged back home by Rocky and Grumbles to get him out of the Deerstalker outfit before anyone else could laugh at him.

As for The Julies and their fringes, well suffice to say that they never wore their hair down to do their cardio ever again.

Beginners Guide to Backing Sheep

One evening Rocky and Brutus were on their beds while we were watching TV. Brutus had his head buried in a book, which automatically got Rocky’s attention as Brutus never normally read books – he usually ate them instead.

‘What are you reading?’ Rocky asked his brother.

‘Beginners Guide to Backing Sheep.’ Brutus said without even looking up. He looked rather engrossed with his book as well.

Boysinbed

The boys often had bedtime discussions

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘You what? Are you serious?’ Rocky laughed.

Clutching his book close to his chest, Brutus blushed ‘You are not the only one that can be a sheep dog you know, my Dad is a kelpie so technically that makes me half a sheep dog.’

Trying to keep a straight face, Rocky raised his eyebrows and fought back the urge to laugh.

‘OK, tell me what you have learned so far then?’ Rocky insisted.

Brutus stuttered and tried to think of something to say but instead held the book even closer to his body to stop Rocky from reading it.

‘Give me that book!’ Rocky growled and snatched the book from Brutus’s paws and as he did so, another book fell out of the middle on to the floor.

‘Ten ways to cook beef’ Rocky read the cover of the second book and then looked at Brutus ‘are you for real?’

‘I can’t help it, I only have to look at those cows and my mouth waters and I don’t want to herd them up, I want to bite chunks off their bottoms and eat them!’ Brutus burst into tears with shame and embarrassment.

Rocky sat down next to his brother and closed the book up. ‘Look, it is all very well wanting to eat beef, I mean I love beef as much as the next dog but it is not appropriate to stay on a farm and secretly plot recipes on eating the cows that are not ours to eat.’

Brutus said nothing but wiped his eyes and hung his head in shame, ‘You won’t tell them that I wanted to eat them will you?’

Brutusthegoodboy

But why can’t I eat the cows Mum?

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Rocky nudged him affectionately with his snout and said ‘No, of course not but please put those recipe books away as if this gets out they will make your life hell.’

‘Rocky, have you ever wanted to eat anything from the farm?’ Brutus asked his brother.

Thinking how much he would like to eat all of those chickens purely to shut them up, Rocky responded simply ‘Let’s just say that sometimes I would like roast chicken, do you get my drift?’

Brutus laughed and went to the bookcase, a few minutes later he handed Rocky a recipe book titled ‘Ten ways to stuff a chicken.’

‘Where did you get that from?’ Rocky checked out the book.

‘That was my plan B in case the beef recipes didn’t work out’ Brutus laughed, ‘I have one for goats as well.’

And with that both boys snuggled up on their beds to study chicken recipes.

The Revenge of The Julies

Nothing harbours a grudge as much as a pissed off alpaca and The Julies were no exception with this. The rude comments about their fringes plus threats to eat their bottoms had really upset them and the day had come for them to get their revenge on Brutus.

One morning Rocky and Brutus were playing in the garden together when one of the chickens shouted ‘Brutus, you are going to learn how to herd up cattle, I hope you are ready for it!’

‘Who me? Really?’ Brutus gasped with a big smile on his face.

‘Are you sure?’ Rocky asked looking puzzled, after all – trying to teach Brutus to herd up cattle was like trying to polish a turd.

‘Yep, meet us in the far paddock in ten minutes.’ The hen said firmly and then waddled off gossiping to herself because that is what hens do and if they have nobody to gossip with, then they do it with themselves.

‘Gosh I am really going to learn how to herd up cattle like my father – he is a kelpie you know.’ Brutus said to Rocky. Whenever Brutus needed validation of his parentage or to try to reassure himself of his breeding, he would say ‘My father is a kelpie you know’.

Rocky was puzzled, ‘Yes you are and God knows why though, they must be mad.’

While waiting for the livestock to get ready for Brutus, Rocky busied himself around the garden while lifting his leg to take a pee up every single tree and then kicking back with his hind legs to spread the ‘love’, he was enjoying his freedom on the farm and being able to get back to his roots as well as piss on them.

When they got to the field where Brutus was to have his herding lesson, a gang of cows and The Julies were standing around smoking cigarettes and chatting. They had such an air of menace about them that Rocky could not help feel a bit uneasy about what might happen to his brother.

‘Rocky, you can blindfold Brutus and spin him round 300 times and then remove the blindfold and he has to come and find us and herd us up’. One of The Julie’s asked him.

‘That is not how I learned to herd but hey ho, I am used to sheep and not cows and Julies.’ Rocky replied uneasily.

‘Well, this is how we do it on this farm’ A large cow reassured him while The Julies all giggled in high-pitched voices in between puffing on their cigarettes and chewing gum.

‘Are you sure this is right? It is highly irregular and I have never seen this before.’ Rocky barked.

‘Are you a PROPER farm dog or a city dweller?’ One of The Julies snapped bitchily as she noisily popped her bubblegum and checked her manicured hooves.

Rocky snapped that he was a ‘proper farm kelpie and was not a city dweller’ as being referred to as that is a huge insult to any farm dog.

But inwardly this felt wrong to Rocky and in hindsight he should have listened to his gut instincts. He wished that Grumbles was around to ask but so far the farm dog was nowhere to be seen.

So against his better judgment, Rocky blindfolded Brutus and spun him around 300 times. Brutus giggled in his innocent and trusting puppy voice but after a while he squealed ‘I might actually vomit up my dinner if you keep doing that.’

‘Right, let’s hide.’ The Julies whispered and before Rocky could do anything, he was dragged roughly by his collar and hidden behind a tree to watch Brutus try to find his way around in the field.

The Julies and cows scattered far and wide across the field and hid behind suitable trees to watch Brutus. I say ‘suitable’ trees, some of those cows were so fat that a tank could not have disguised them but hey, I am just pissed off with them that they did that to my Brutus.

‘Can I take my blindfold off now?’ Brutus patted his eyes gently with his paws. The sound of silence greeted him and not getting any reply, Brutus pulled off his blindfold and looked around for The Julies and the cows to herd up.

‘We need to tell him where we are.’ Rocky insisted to the cows who did a ‘hush’ gesture with their hooves to make Rocky be quiet as one of The Julies gripped Rocky’s snout firmly so that he couldn’t make any noise.

‘Where are you all?’ Brutus started to panic when he realized that he had been left alone in this field, and then it dawned on him that he was actually quite terrified.

‘Rocky? Where are you? Are you there?’ Brutus looked around for evidence of The Julies or the cows and his brother Rocky.

‘Mum? Are you there? Dad – come and get me, can I go home now? I need a to go for a pee, can you clean my eyes?’ (Brutus always presents his face to me when he wants his eyes cleaning)

‘Where is my Tony Abbott – can I have my Tony Abbott, what about a carrot? I like carrots.’ Brutus rushed his words as he became more frightened.

‘I am a good boy, Brutus is a good boy!’ Brutus kept saying loudly to himself, ‘I won the Good Boy Award at the Iggy club, I know I am a good boy – Denise said I am’ Brutus recited to himself in reassurance that he was in fact a good boy.

He was getting upset now as he kept thinking that he could see some of The Julies behind trees but his eyesight was not brilliant so he couldn’t be sure. Although he was right and it was some of The Julies hiding behind trees but they were just stealth-like in disguise and looked like branches with leg warmers.

‘Guys, this is not funny – he is my brother!’ Rocky snapped when he finally managed to get his snout free from one of The Julies grip. He was getting angry now and as much as Rocky could take the piss out of his brother, nobody else could.

‘Mum? Where are you? Is anyone there? I want my Mum, I want my brother!’ Brutus squealed and then quite suddenly he started to cry.

A loud and very deep voice echoed across the land that morning as Brutus curled up on the floor in a submissive position and howled like a baby – his whole was body rigid and his hind legs twitching and Brutus could not have moved even if he had wanted to.

The farm animals looked uncomfortable as they watched the gentle giant lying on the floor howling and shaking, thinking that he had been abandoned hundreds of kilometers from his home.

The Julies fiddled with their pearl necklaces, bit their lips and looked pretty guilty, the cows had the grace to blush and even the black horse in the next field shook his head at the practical joke that had gone wrong and twitched his back angrily in response and swished his tail.

‘That is my brother in that field and this has gone far enough.’ Rocky growled at a fat cow that at least had some common decency and hung its head in shame.

Grumbles who had just appeared on the scene, had no idea as to what had happened but judging by how distressed Brutus was and how angry Rocky was, it was not good. Leaping over the fence and then limping with his bad hips from the effort, Rocky ran over to Brutus and washed his ears to reassure the brown dog that no, his family had not left him.

‘I thought you had gone, I thought I was going to learn to herd sheep, I thought I had been a bad boy, I don’t think I will make a farm dog, I am so sorry to let you down!’ Brutus sobbed. He was so distraught and upset that he had actually wet himself.

‘Sheep are so overrated Brutus and you are my brother and I would never leave you’ Rocky whispered in his ear, while inwardly seething at The Julies and the cows for their cruel trick but also angry and embarrassed at himself for allowing it to happen.

‘Sorry Brutus, sorry – we can teach you next time about herding. It was only a joke – no harm done mate.’ Stuttered the fattest of cows who was shocked at how upset Brutus was and quite scared of the angry little black kelpie who was ready to not only nip their hooves but bite their bums as well.

‘Back off right now!’ Grumbles shouted to the cows and then growled to The Julies ‘how dare you do that to him, how dare you!’

‘It was a joke.’ The Julies giggled nervously but suffice to say that they felt pretty darned ashamed of themselves.

‘Can we go back to the house?’ Brutus asked Rocky, his voice coming out in loud howls and sobs as Rocky placed a firm black paw on his shoulders to comfort his brother.

‘Yes, we will go back to the house and if you like, we can play with your Tony Abbott doll together.’ Rocky smiled at Brutus who managed a little grin in response.

‘That would be nice.’ Brutus sniffed and wiped his eyes.

TugofTony

Nothing like a game of ‘Tug-of-Tony’

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Rocky?’ Brutus asked – his voice still trembling from all the crying, he had literally run out of ‘sobs’ and his voice was husky from shouting.

‘Yes Brutus?’

‘I wasn’t really scared in that field.’ Brutus whispered.

‘Of course you weren’t, I know that.’ Rocky playfully nudged Brutus with his snout.

Nothing more was said that evening about that incident until both boys were in bed snuggled up. Brutus was wearing his purple spotted pyjamas and was curled up on his bed and Rocky lay on his own bed next to him.

Brutuspyjama

Brutus in his purple pyjamas

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Rocky?’ Brutus asked him.

‘Yes Brutus?’

‘I know I can’t be a farm dog but I am good at some things aren’t I?’ Brutus whispered to his brother.

Rocky didn’t reply straight away but tried to rack his brains as to what Brutus was good at.

‘You are an excellent brother and that is what counts – not sheep herding.’ Rocky replied truthfully.

And that was all Brutus needed to hear, after all it was far better to be a good brother than a sheep herder – according to Rocky and his opinion is what mattered.

Grumbles dealt with the cows and The Julies in his own way and nobody ever knew what he said to them but the shame that they felt for what they did to Brutus was never ever forgotten.

Those darned chickens!

 If I have led you to believe that Rocky had a perfectly harmonious relationship with all the farm animals then I am sorry because although Rocky is a farm dog living in the suburbs and is very good with livestock, he does actually harbor a deep resentment towards chickens as you may have gathered.

The chickens on this farm were like a bunch of old women and would gossip about everything and anything and they would all interrupt each other and discuss their day, which was always the same a bit like ‘Groundhog Day’– except for chickens.

They would dust down the guinea pigs and tidy them up even though they never actually needed to be tidied up. Those poor pigs would make guinea pig noises in protest, as the chickens would organize them like china ornaments.

‘Someone took my eggs this morning, they stole them from my bed and ate them and now I will never have babies of my own and will have to lay more.’ One of the chickens would say every single day without fail, sometimes several times a day in boring repetition.

The other chickens would burst into tears and say in a shrill voice ‘Oh my goodness, that is dreadful – they ate your babies, that is murder!’

Then would come the mammoth egg laying session and each chicken would be highly competitive and see who could push out the largest most fattest egg from wherever they push their eggs out of.

‘Hold on girls, I have a big one here, it is a dinosaur egg, call the Guinness Book of Records!’ one of the girls would shout and the others would all start yelling encouragement.

‘Oh my god, how I pushed this baby out is a miracle I am still alive!’ The chickens would cry and then the others would all stare at the eggs to see which was the largest.

Other stuff like ‘Push that mo-fo out sister!’ or ‘Oh my days you are SO loose down there, you could push out an ostrich egg’ could be heard in the barn as the chickens got over excited by the egg laying process.

Then someone (in this instance my husband) would come along and take the eggs and we would cook them for breakfast and the whole thing would start again with accusations of stealing and eating babies and who could push out the biggest egg or had the ‘widest lady-garden’ (genitals).

Rocky brutally reminding the chickens that as there was no rooster in the pen to give them babies and that the best use of the eggs was in the frying pan and in our bellies. This of course would send the entire gang of chickens into noisy sobs, chickens fainting over the guinea pigs and cries of murder and baby-snatchers.

Why did this bother Rocky? Well because Rocky is a respectable kelpie and cannot stand noise and disorder with chickens. They also never respect the working kelpie and on some farms have even been known to give rude gestures to the most senior of working farm dogs. So that my friends, is why Rocky has no time for them.

‘Do they ever shut up?’ Rocky asked Grumbles the farm dog one evening.

Staring at the group of chickens who were yet again screaming that someone had stolen and eaten their children, Grumbles shook his head and replied simply ‘Nope, and even when I threatened to eat them, that didn’t work either.’

‘Chickens, I just can’t understand them.’ Rocky growled.

‘But they sure taste good roasted.’ Grumbles added and both dogs burst out laughing.

Brutus has his day

The boys

Brothers – through thick and thin

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

It was the day before we were due to go home and Brutus and Rocky were outside. Brutus was in the garden chasing butterflies oblivious to everything else except ‘Planet Brutus’, while Rocky sat on the verandah and kept an eye out for the resident brown snake that lived under the house.

‘Oi, Rocky – you and Brutus have to come to the barn now!’ squawked a green parrot that had just landed on our verandah.

‘Why? Who is asking?’ Rocky replied without even looking up.

‘The bull in the next field and if you know what is good for you, you will get down there quick’ said the parrot and then quickly flew off.

Rocky looked at his brother who was still chasing butterflies and staring up at the sky with his reddish-brown eyes shining, his red-tanned body shining beautifully in the sun, his ears erect, his black snout like well nourished leather, he looked very handsome. Rocky hoped that the farm animals had no more cruel tricks planned for Brutus.

‘But I don’t want to see them, last time they made me cry and I don’t like crying as it makes my heart hurt.’ Brutus stuttered when Rocky told him.

‘I won’t let them do that to you again, I think they have something to say to you.’ Rocky barked.

‘Promise you won’t let them hurt me?’ Brutus’s voice wobbled.

Staring at Brutus who was visibly shaking with nerves, Rocky vowed then and there that it would be over his dead body that anyone would ever hurt him again.

‘I promise, now come on we can’t keep them waiting.’ Rocky held out a slim black paw and placed it on Brutus’s shoulder.

The little kelpie and his giant brown brother walked slowly to the field. ‘I will be OK won’t I?’ Brutus asked Rocky.

Taking a deep breath, Rocky stood next to his brother and growled softly but firmly – ‘I will make sure of it’.

Trusting his brother, Brutus walked with Rocky and took slow steps towards the field where The Julies, the cows, the black horse and Grumbles were waiting for them.

The Julies were huddled together. Looking strangely naked without their leg warmers/sportswear and pearl necklaces or knitted sweaters they stomped their legs in anticipation.

The cows looked pretty serious as well, no horrible comments from them either and even the black horse gave a nod of respect to Brutus who looked back at Rocky for reassurance that everything was OK.

‘So what is this about then?’ Rocky asked Grumbles who was staring hard at The Julies giving them a look that said ‘Don’t stuff this up’.

The biggest of The Julies stepped forward and spoke for the group. ‘As a way of an apology for making you cry the other day, we would like to offer you the opportunity to herd us up so that you can have the experience of being a proper farm dog.’

‘Cry? I did not cry, my eyes just leaked a bit that was all!’ Brutus protested and  whispered to Rocky ‘I SO did not cry, I didn’t you know, my eyes just got wet that was all.’

‘Are you serious, you are going to let Brutus heard you up – YOU – The Julies?’ Rocky asked and then stifled a snigger because it could only end badly.

The Julies all nodded as did the cows, the black horse and Grumbles the farm dog.

‘Oh my god, what do I do? How do I herd them up?’ Brutus panicked when he asked Rocky.

That was a question that Rocky had also asked himself but knew The Julies and the gang were up to something and this time, he totally had to trust him because he trusted Grumbles and he knew Grumbles wanted to make amends on behalf of his livestock.

‘Right, everyone except for The Julies must gather at the end of the paddock and Rocky can give the signal for Brutus to do his bit.’ Grumbles instructed.

It was big news let me tell you now, even the gossiping chickens had stopped talking about their stolen eggs and were hanging round by the fence to see what was happening and the Highland cow had stopped talking about square sausages and other Scottish stuff to have watch the event because that was exactly what it was – an event.

‘He will never do it, he won’t be able to resist wanting to eat them.’ One of the young cows in the field opposite said to its friend who agreed.

A group of green parrots had gathered on the fence to have a look and even the goats in the next field had tried to stuff their heads through the fence to get a good view.

‘Go on lad, this is your time and you can trust me, you can trust them – there will be no tricks.’ Rocky said solemnly to his brother.

‘I am a good boy, Mum said I am a good boy, Rocky am I a good boy? I won the Good Boy Award at the Iggy club that was made for me didn’t I?’ Brutus asked Rocky and in turn tried to reassure himself.

Rocky smiled at the large clumsy young dog and remember the times that he had to hump him to put him in his place, the times that he pissed on his head or bit him to tell him off and made him cry. Yes, he most certainly was a good boy and a good brother.

‘I know you are a good boy, now go and show The Julies how good you are.’ Rocky said and taking a big breath, gently pushed Brutus towards The Julies who were taking deep breaths to calm themselves.

‘I am scared, I hope he doesn’t eat my bum, I quite like my bum.’ one of The Julies whispered to the other.

‘Come on girls, you know what you have to do.’ Grumbles said to them and at that point, all the other animals stepped back leaving Brutus to have his day.

‘After a count of three, I want you to scatter’ Grumbles shouted, ‘One, Two, Three – Scatter!’

The Julies scattered and ran in different directions round the field like a bunch of woolly jumpers on legs.

‘Brutus – off you go lad – round them up now and do your best.’ Grumbles said to Brutus and then winked at him.

Brutus froze on the spot, his huge eyes darting around for an escape and torn between being half kelpie and half Rhodesian ridgeback, he didn’t know whether to herd them up or eat them.

‘He can’t do it, he is too scared – he has lost it now, I knew he would but hoped he wouldn’t fall apart.’ the black horse sighed and shook his head at such a lost opportunity.

‘Come on Brutus, you can do it’ Rocky said under his breath and willed the big fella to snap out of his fear and prove the others wrong.

Brutus could see the top of Rocky’s huge ears that all kelpies had and even Brutus had inherited his fathers kelpie ears, so surely that meant he could be as good as anyone in herding?

‘I am a good boy, I am a GOOD boy, I AM a good boy!’ Brutus repeated to himself and as he glanced up, he could see the faces of The Julies, the cows, the black horse, the parrots, the goats, the cows in the other field, Grumbles the farm dog and most importantly – Rocky, his brother who loved him no matter what.

The other animals looked almost resigned to the fact that Brutus would waste this opportunity and let fear and nerves get the better of him and were about to walk away and give up on the big brown dog.

As they slowly started to walk back to their trees in the paddock, only Rocky remained firm. Staring at Brutus so hard that he could have almost bore holes into him; Rocky willed the dog to act.

‘I think it is time to go and I must say I am quite relieved’ one of The Julies said gratefully and patted her curly hair between her ears just like some elderly women pat their curls.

‘Come on Rocky, it’s not going to happen – he simply is not cut out for it.’ Grumbles the farm dog said quietly to Rocky.

But the little black kelpie totally believed in his brother and refused to move until Brutus proved him right.

‘Jesus Christ, he is coming!’ said another one of The Julies.

‘I don’t know what to do, do you think now would be a good time to pray?’ asked the smallest of The Julies as she gripped her bum in anticipation of it being bitten.

Slowly but surely, there was Brutus trying so hard to remember what Rocky had taught him when he showed him to herd up tennis balls and toys in the garden.

‘Hold on a minute Grumbles, didn’t you tell The Julies to herd themselves up and let Brutus think it was him? I thought you said the big brown fella was as good a herder as a chocolate fireguard?’ The black horse demanded.

‘Yes I did tell them to herd themselves as he hasn’t a clue about herding.’ Grumbles said in a shocked voice.

‘Well he has had you fooled, because he looks like he has done this before.’ a green parrot piped up from the fence.

‘Well I will be damned, you are right, here he comes!’ Grumbles said triumphantly and one by one the other farm animals turned back round to see Brutus and what he was capable of.

‘Go round the outside, bring them in tight, make the circle small and always watch out for the outsider.’ Brutus said loudly to himself.

‘Bugger me, he has remembered, I never thought he even listened, let alone remembered.’ Rocky barked.

‘Well I thought The Julies were going to herd themselves in, I never thought that Brutus could do it either!’ Grumbles looked shocked.

The gossiping chickens were so taken aback by what they were watching, they stopped accusing people of stealing and eating their babies and were now talking about Brutus who would no doubt, provide them with enough to chat about for months to come – or at least until their eggs were removed the next day.

‘That is my butt, you leave my butt alone!’ The Julies all squealed, as Brutus got a bit over enthusiastic about nipping their bums.

‘You are meant to nip their feet not their arses!’ Rocky shouted to Brutus who yelled something back about him being too tall to bend down and get their feet plus their bums tasted quite nice thank you.

‘One has got away!’ Grumbles shouted to Brutus who clearly didn’t hear him, ‘I wonder if he will notice?’

Rocky’s heart was beating so fast that he thought it might stop, ‘Please notice Brutus, The Julie is behind the tree.’

As if reading his mind, Brutus looked round to see one of The Julies trying the stealth trick of hiding behind a tree and immediately recognized it as the one that was really horrible to him and made him cry the other day.

‘Move and I will eat your bum and use your wool as a cat blanket for my brother Gordon!’ Brutus hissed to The Julies that were already in a tight circle from where Brutus had herded them up.

Disgusted at such language and terrified of the threats, The Julies remained in their circle, too scared to move or talk as he meant business and they knew it. Then running up to the tree Brutus walked purposely to The Julie that was hiding from him.

‘What you did to me was nasty and cruel and I did not deserve it. If I wanted to eat you right now, then I could do so quite easily.

‘And whilst I know I am not a pedigree farm dog, I will have you know that I can run in a straight line in lure coursing and I have also won The Good Boy Award and if you don’t believe me, you can ask Pippin’s Mum.

‘So you can jolly well respect me and get your fat woolly butt back to the others and do it now please.’ Brutus growled at The Julie.

Without saying a word The Julie immediately ran off to the rest of the group but not before Brutus took a good nip at her bottom, purely as payback for making him cry.

‘Did I just see that? He has only gone and done it.’ Rocky gasped as Grumbles wagged his tail furiously.

‘He has done it! He has brought in The Julies!’ shouted the black horse to the Highland cow who had fallen asleep and missed it all (old ladies do that you see – fall asleep at critical moments and they also fart as they walk along to the toilet and smell of wet bum).

The cows were all cheering, the goats, the two Shetland ponies and the sheep in fact everything including the green parrots on the side of the fence. Brutus ran back towards Rocky as the other farm animals clapped for him. Rocky who has bad hips and can’t walk very fast let alone run, had started to run towards Brutus to meet him halfway.

Limping and with stiff gait, Rocky didn’t care about his own discomfort, he cared about nothing except getting to his brother – HIS brother and he was proud of him. He hobbled up to Brutus and greeted him by cleaning his ears, wagging of tails and urinating on his head.

‘This is my brother Brutus!’ Rocky shouted to everyone as he fought back the tears and stood as close to Brutus as he could. Their tails wagged fast and high and just for one second, they were oblivious to every farm animal around them and only had eyes for each other and what Brutus had achieved.

‘Am I a sheepdog now?’ Brutus asked Rocky.

‘Well you can herd up The Julies and that is close enough.’ Rocky laughed, ‘and what is more you should be very proud of yourself’.

The Julies remained in the tight herded circle in the field, too scared to move after Brutus had threatened to eat them.

‘Are you OK?’ one Julie said to another.

‘I think so, I have some wool taken off my bottom, and does my bottom look bald?’ The Julie asked the rest of the group.

‘It just looks like you have been Brutus-fied!’ Snorted the black horse as the other animals all burst out laughing at the new term ‘Brutus-fied’.

‘He’s not bad your brother.’ Grumbles admitted to Rocky.

‘Yes, he is a good lad is Brutus.’ Rocky agreed.

The chickens who were still hanging out by the edge of their chicken run, rather reminded me of old ladies wearing feather aprons while gossiping at church about the evils of unmarried mothers.

‘Someone stole my babies.’ one of the chickens clucked loudly causing the others to shout in sympathy that their babies had also been stolen and eaten.

Rocky walked past just as the chickens were about to launch into a meltdown and growled at them ‘Two words – roast chicken!’

‘Did he just say roast chicken?’ one chicken screeched to another who fanned her beak with her wing feathers and pretended to faint.

Rocky didn’t wait to see or hear the aftermath about his ‘roast chicken’ comment but from what Grumbles told him, it kept them busy for a few days until they got back on the topic of egg-theft again.

And just as it all ended, the Highland cow decided to wake up. Looking confused and sleepy, she said in her gentle Scottish accent ‘what have I missed my dear, is it time for tea?’

Later that night

 Brutus and Rocky were in bed – both of them full of the excitement from the day. Brutus could not wait to see his beloved friend Vader the boxer to tell him about everything.

‘Rocky do you think I could turn professional and do herding for a living, The Julies loved me I am sure.’

Rocky remembering that several of The Julies had gone back to the stable with bald bottoms after being ‘Brutus-fied’, thought that the word ‘love’ was perhaps too strong a description for Brutus’s herding skills.

‘Oh you don’t want to be professional, it is too much like hard work and you would have to work sheep in the rain and you would have to be up super early and you know how much you hate early starts.’ Rocky said convincingly.

‘Oh I don’t mind that, no pain no gain as they say.’

‘You can’t take Tony Abbott herding you know, they would laugh at you.’ Rocky added quickly.

Brutus frowned ‘Yeah you are right, but I guess it is a skill I can always fall back on.’

And with that Rocky had to be satisfied as every alpaca in Western Australia would also be grateful at that decision.

Going home

 ‘Have you got everything?’ Rocky asked Brutus as the bags were packed to go home.

‘I think so, hold on – where is my Tony Abbott doll?’ Brutus panicked.

‘It is in the bag, Mum packed it ages ago along with my gingerbread man.’ said Rocky.

Brutus nodded gratefully and then glanced around the house to see that nothing had been forgotten.

‘Right then boys, come to the car as we have a long drive ahead of us.’ Brutus’s Dad said firmly.

‘I don’t want to wear my harness.’ Brutus cried as he was strapped in. ‘Rocky doesn’t wear a harness, he has a seat belt clip – can I have a seat belt clip?’

‘That is because Rocky sits nicely in the car and you don’t and as the journey is 5.5 hours, we can’t have you fidgeting around in the car.’ I replied and made sure his harness was secure.

Doing his usual pout, Brutus looked sulky as he stared out of the car window while making doggy ‘nose art’ on the windows. As he stared longingly at the vast expanse of farm land, he spotted Grumbles the farm dog, the gossipy chickens, The Julies, the black horse, the cows, the Highland cow (with horns you could hang a coat on), the bull, the Shetland ponies, some sheep, some goats and several green parrots all lined up outside the house to wave goodbye.

‘Rocky look at this!’ Brutus poked Rocky in the ribs to get his attention.

‘Don’t push your luck by poking me Turd Legs; you know I don’t like it. What do you want me to look at?’ Rocky growled. He always hated it when he had to go back home for any of his holidays.

‘The animals!’ Brutus pointed to the fields and the yard.

‘What animals?’ Rocky barked.

‘THOSE animals!’ Brutus banged on the window to show Rocky.

As the car slowed down, Brutus and Rocky stuck their heads out of the windows and strained their necks to get a good look.

Grumbles the farm dog fronted up the gang and walked up to the car and said ‘It’s been good having you on our farm lads, you are welcome any time.’ and then nodded his head firmly as a mark of respect.

One by one the animals all nodded in agreement and started to cheer their support. Even The Julies were joining in except for occasionally grabbing their bottoms at the sight of Brutus.

‘Even me Grumbles? Am I welcome back here?’ Brutus asked Grumbles.

Grumbles looked long and hard at Brutus, remembering how hard he tried to fit in, how he stood up to The Julies and how he had such faith in his brother Rocky, he tried his best and managed to herd The Julies in the field.

‘Especially you Brutus.’ Grumbles smiled.

Looking embarrassed as he always does when someone pays him a compliment, Brutus put his head down in the car so the others couldn’t see him blushing.

‘Watch those hips kelpie boy, they are your only mobility so don’t you go mad chasing those tennis balls.’ Grumbles waved at Rocky.

Rocky grinned ‘I will be back next year and I will have those cows organized in no time.’

‘Catch ya later Julies’ Rocky laughed at The Julies, ‘And keep up the cardio work!’

Waving so vigorously that their leg warmers slipped down, The Julies giggled at Rocky ‘It’s been lovely having you!’

Brutus and Rocky kept their snouts stuffed out of the window as we drove the car out of the driveway away from the farm.

Several of the animals trotted after it until they reached the fence until it was only Grumbles and a couple of parrots that followed us until the end of the driveway as the car rattled along the unsealed path to the main road and eventually disappeared.

‘Back to normal I guess.’ sighed Grumbles.

‘Yep, let’s go and wait for the next lot of visitors – I wonder what they will be like?’ one of the parrots asked.

‘Not like Brutus, that’s for sure.’ Grumbles replied.

And that was something they all agreed upon.

Back home

 After the five-hour drive back home, the boys had run straight out into the garden to check that nothing had been moved and no invisible dogs had pissed on their favourite trees.

‘That invisible GSD has been digging again!’ Rocky looked accusingly at the hole he had completely forgotten digging before we went.

‘Brutus is that you? Are you back?’ A voice came from behind the fence – it was Brutus’s friend Vader the boxer who spoke with a fat tongue which has been compared to a Christmas ham.

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Brutus and his friend Vader

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Vader! Yes, we had a marvelous time. You will never guess what I did?’ Brutus blurted out, unable to contain himself. You know what it is like when you come back from holiday, you can’t wait to relive every single detail several times until your friends have virtually relived the experience in your stories.

Brutus chattered away to Vader through a gap in the fence, telling him all about his time with The Julies, the cows, the horses and Grumbles the farm dog. Vader of course hung on to Brutus’s every single word.

By the time Brutus had told his story, he had convinced both himself and Vader that he was a fully trained up farm dog with an ability to herd up anything on the farm and was now in demand for the ‘Herding Championships’ (Brutus invented that).

Rocky briefly thought about correcting him, but only briefly as he already had plans to tell Gordon that he had driven the tractor and had conquered the chickens.

Dreams – they are free and we can all have them, especially our pets.

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Rocky driving a rusty old tractor – so he believes

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

The End.

Samantha Rose – Copyright August 2018 ©

 

Dogs, Owners and Look-alikes

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Free stock photo provided by Pexels

We have all heard the saying that some owners look like their dogs and as I write this, I alternate my gaze between Rocky and Brutus wondering which one I resemble. I do have to agree though, because I have seen lots of people in my life that do a fabulous ‘look-a-like’ when it comes to their pets and I don’t mean that in a bad way, after all I think that our pets are perfect in their own individual way. I just find it amusing that some people really can pull it off.

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Rocky is not amused at being compared to me

(Photograph by Samantha Rose)

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Schnauzer – I love these dogs, such characters

(Free Stock Photo Provided by Pexels)

For instance I have seen some elderly men that actually look like their Schnauzer, complete with grey bushy/tufty eyebrows and grey beards and I am not even joking. Next time you see an old man with an abundance of grey wiry facial and eyebrow hair, think Schnauzer and I bet he has one at home if he isn’t out walking it.

When it comes to giving the standard description of a person, I am pretty rubbish and the best I can come up with is ‘Short/tall, fat/thin, grey hair’ kind of thing. But I do wonder if I said ‘Elderly Schnauzer looking man’, if that would that cut it with the cops when describing a suspect? Maybe the cops could introduce a doggy comparison chart for us dog lovers that see a breed of dog in everyone. (Well I find it amusing but then I am a bit wierd like that).

Can you just imagine it in a police line up where there is a GSD, a greyhound, a pug and an Airedale terrier, ‘Officer he looked like number three’, you say firmly as you point to the pug.  God that would make life so much easier.

The Afghan Incident

I still hold the mental scars and embarrassment over this, it is so raw that I blush at the mere mention of it so please be patient with me as I relive the shame.

We were living in Devon in the UK at the time and I was walking in to town when I spotted a car parked on the side of the road by the pathway. The window was completely down and partially sticking out was the glistening golden head of a gloriously well-kept Afghan hound.

Now in those days I could never resist a dog, especially when it is so tantalizingly close to me like this one was. Stretching out my arm, I stupidly went to pat the dog on the head (I say stupidly because now I would never touch a dog without the owners consent – ever). ‘Aren’t you gorgeous!’ I sighed and patted the dogs silky fur.

‘Excuse me, do you mind!’ A furious voice piped up and the glorious ‘Afghan’ that I had touched, moved its head, looked up and revealed an obvious human face instead of a canine one as a pissed off looking female glared at me.

Feeling my cheeks burning with embarrassment, I muttered something about being sorry and poor eyesight and needing new glasses. This was and still is true, as I do recall when we were on holiday in Namibia in 2007, I mistook a pile of black rubbish sacks in the distance for a group of ostriches and wanted to go and take photos – but let’s not discuss that as my husband still reminds me of that one.

I quickly walked off and left the ‘Afghan’ woman with her lips pursed tightly like a cats anus and a look of disbelief at what had just happened and as for me, well I just pretended that it never happened. She should be flattered really, does she have any idea that goes into making an Afghan hounds coat stand out like that? I think not.

I thought I had put all this behind me I really did but only this week as I was driving to work I saw a guy walking his greyhound. Well of course I had to have a good look at the dog, you all know I am a sucker for a pointy snout brigade (whippet/greyhound/Iggy).

Unable to believe my eyes, I blinked a few times and looked again – well it was at a red traffic light so I could get a few glances in. This man had a nose just like his greyhound, he had sharp chiselled features and I could have sworn he was walking in sync with his dog with that delightful bounce that greyhounds sometimes have when they walk. The only thing missing was that the guy wasn’t brindle and shiny like his dog but then you can’t have everything.

As for me…

I definitely don’t look like my kelpie Rocky and I don’t think I look like Brutus either. My hair which is a huge mop, could possibly do Afghan when I straighten it or Briard if I go wavy – who knows, but the next time I go to my hairdresser I might just ask her to ‘Do an Afghan’ and just enjoy the moment, providing nobody ruffles my hair through my car window of course.

 

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright April 2018

 

Brutus learns the real meaning of Christmas

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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’.

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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’.

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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’.

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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).

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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.

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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.

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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!).

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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

A Forbidden Love (Bronte and Rocky)

It was Sunday afternoon and Rocky was in a bad mood as he hadn’t had a good walk in ages, he was also pissed off because he doesn’t have any friends because he hates everyone, including his invisible friends that all dogs have – just ask Rocco about that.

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Rocky in his Kelpie Spectacles

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘What are we doing today?’ Brutus demanded in a bored voice. Brutus always assumed things had been organised for him and kind of expected it.

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Brutus always expects stuff to be organised for him

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Rocky shook the absurdly large newspaper that he was reading, taking a deep breath he peered over the top of his kelpie spectacles which are just like Harry Potters spectacles except that they are for kelpies.

‘We are probably doing nothing, I hate everyone and I hate everyone even more today’ Rocky snapped and then bent down to chew his anal glands.

Brutus who is not good at ‘reading’ other dogs, shrugged his shoulders and trotted off to Rocky’s bed to steal his gingerbread man who had taken Tony Abbott’s place for suckling time when he needed a comforter.

Unknown to Rocky I had been messaging Denise Pringle asking if she fancied going to North Lake for a walk with Pippin and Bronte and I would bring Rocky.

Telling me that yes she would meet me in the car park I then set about breaking the good news to Rocky that he was to be meeting Pippin and Bronte and Brutus would be staying home with Dad to ‘help in the garden’ (dig the crap out of it).

‘What do you mean I can’t go? I always hang out with Pippin?’ Brutus protested with his bottom lip quivering.

‘What does she mean I can’t go?’ Brutus repeated to Rocky who grinned and replied simply ‘You go everywhere, it’s my turn now – catch ya later alligator!’ Rocky barked back at Brutus.

‘Come on Brutus, go to your room – I have put some treats in there’ I reassured him.

‘Not going, won’t go, can’t make me’ Brutus said in a high pitched voice and then promptly threw himself to the floor (I am not joking either)

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Brutus – an expert on sulking

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

The large brown dog buckled to the floor and started to howl. Now the reason for him not going was because I am working on Rocky’s behaviour and confidence around other dogs and he is far better when he is not with Brutus and Pippin has a calming influence on him.

Eventually I got Brutus to his bed and placated him with a carrot but not before he threatened to do rude things with it and the last I heard of him was him threatening to self harm as I drove off with Rocky in the car.

‘Yeah, this is so cool! Do you mind if I drive?’ Rocky grinned at me.

‘No, you are not driving’ I said firmly.

‘Oh well, I shall yell stuff out of the window then’ Rocky shrugged and before I could stop him; he was calling a Jack Russell terrier a ‘flea bitten stumpy legs’.

Soon we pulled up at North Lake and Denise, Pippin and Bronte arrived minutes after we did.

‘Hi Rocky!’ Pippin’s face beamed through the car window as he steamed it up trying to talk and greet Rocky.

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Rocky and Pippin – members of the Sensible Club

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Rocky who is so sensible and full of self control, tried to contain himself but as he doesn’t have any friends except for Lexie’s Tess and Pippin and Bronte, he was absurdly pleased to see the two little dogs. He was especially pleased to see Pippin as on the whole and when they are not being corrupted, are both very sensible dogs that wear spectacles and read large newspapers with big words and get on very well together.

‘Hi Rocky, do you think I have my figure back after my babies?’ Bronte said flirtatiously to Rocky who looked approvingly at her skinny bum.

‘Bronte, don’t be so forward!’ Pippin reprimanded her. Bronte looked boot-faced at Pippin and winked naughtily at Rocky causing him to blush and look away.

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Rocky and Bronte – a forbidden love

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Call me’ Bronte mouthed and did a phone gesture with her paws before running off ahead so that Rocky could get the full benefit of her svelte figure and pretty purple outfit.

‘Girls, I will never understand them’ Pippin sighed to Rocky, ‘Now – shall we discuss what has been happening in the UK as I understand they have voted out and I am not sure what that means for exporting dog collars and clothes’

Rocky pretended to listen but kept a beady eye on Bronte who kept turning round to see if he was looking and remaining in one place just long enough to catch his glance.

It was a very pleasant walk and aside from discussing politics, Rocky and Pippin had a jolly nice time that involved treats from Denise’s pocket, discussing the benefits of making ones bed explode and the glories of rolling in horse shit.

‘You see this is the equivalent to Facebook, if I pee on that post then you have to pee on where I have peed’ Bronte said confidently to Rocky as they trotted beside each other.

‘Oh I see, let me see if I can get a bit more out’ Rocky replied and then cocked his leg up a tree and was followed by Pippin who had enough pee for all three of them which made them all laugh.

Anyway the rest of the walk went very well, treats were given and eaten, bottoms were sniffed and the three dogs just enjoyed each others company.

At the End of the Walk

‘Oh I wish I didn’t have to go home I have had so much fun’ Rocky said to Pippin while looking longingly at Bronte who was smiling back at him and doing her ‘call me’ gestures again and was frantically sending Rocky a text. They always have had a bit of a forbidden crush on one another much to the horror of Nica, Zara and the rest of the girls.

‘We can meet up next time old chap’ Pippin patted Rocky reassuringly on the back. Knowing that Rocky had bad hips, Pippin always liked to do his bit for the disabled and felt that it was no trouble helping Rocky as the two had become quite good friends and members of the ‘sensible club’ – well we won’t count the time that Pippin ended up in a lap dancing club run by whippets as that is another story.

Rocky was reluctantly put in the back of the car. With his black snout pressed against the window, he yelled out through the gap ‘Catch ya later Pippin’ and before Pippin could see him, Rocky gave a cheeky wink to Bronte who waved back at him.

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Sweet Kelpie Dreams (of Bronte)

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

In Denise’s Car

‘What a lovely boy he is, so polite and handsome’ Bronte sighed as she settled into her bed.

‘Bronte!’ Pippin chastised her.

‘Well, he is jolly handsome’ Bronte barked back and then huffed some steam on the window and drew a love heart on it with her paws.

‘Rocky is too sensible to have flirtations with Italian greyhounds’ Pippin said firmly.

‘Yeah, I guess he is – but a girl can try….’ Bronte said quietly.

IMG_0639Bronte the pretty girl

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Back at Home

‘You are such a bastard, I hate you, I am never talking to you again!’ Brutus sobbed as Rocky jumped out of the car.

Ignoring him Rocky took a pee up the garden pot, well he had actually used his pee allocation while out with Pippin and Bronte and was now doing invisible pee, but even invisible pee counts when it comes to dogs.

‘I said I hate you and I am never talking to you again’ Brutus said loudly and as if to prove a point, he squatted down and pissed down his own legs. Brutus always looks as though life got a bit too much for him and when he gets upset he gets very loud and very cute.

‘You just did talk to me silly’ Rocky laughed.

‘I said I am never talking to you again, that’s it!’ Brutus started to cry and remained by my car as Rocky marked his spots around the garden to make sure that strange invisible dogs had not infiltrated our security system while we were out and my husband was in bed or whatever he did while we were out.

Later that afternoon

Having thawed out somewhat and deciding that he was totally unable to ignore or be ignored, Brutus decided to ask Rocky about how it went with Pippin and Bronte.

‘Well she is very nice isn’t she, she looked so beautiful in that purple outfit and she has lost so much weight – you wouldn’t believe she had not long had pups’ Rocky said as his face softened at the memory of the afternoon.

‘You fancy her don’t you?’ Brutus burst out and then catching Rocky blushing furiously, he stood up and farted with excitement. ‘You do, you fancy her, you fancy Bronte Pringle!’

‘You are SO childish, I don’t know why I bother with you’ Rocky growled and nipped Brutus smartly on his brown bum to shut him up and made him cry.

Curling up on his bed Rocky hid under his blanket and pretended to be asleep.

‘Rocky, are you asleep?’ Brutus whispered, ‘I am sorry, I didn’t mean to say you fancied Bronte, I know you prefer sheep to girl dogs, I was just joking’ Brutus who was mortified that he had upset his brother.

Rocky stayed silent and kept his eyes tightly shut until he was sure that Brutus had gone back to his own bed. But clutched tightly between his paws was a photo of Bronte that she had texted him plus her mobile number with a message saying ‘Call me’.

But the question is – will he?……

To be continued…..

 

Pippin Pringle, Brutus and the ‘Testicle Incident’

Brutus was round Pippin Pringle’s house for tea and bone broth. They were hanging out quite a bit really and the tiny little dog was teaching Brutus how to be intelligent but as Rocky said, ‘you can’t polish a turd’. However, Pippin felt flattered that Brutus had asked him to make him a clever boy and was only too happy to oblige.

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Pippin teaches Brutus how to be a clever boy (Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Brutus was sat on one chair with a mug of bone broth and Pippin was on the other. Bronte was round Ayla’s house having a girly night with Gigi, Nica and Zara. Fat Harry had tried to gatecrash it to try but was caught out and sent away by Gigi.

Brutus balls

Brutus trying to replicate the ‘Shelby position’ (Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Pippin’ Brutus asked him.

‘Yes Brutus?’ Pippin said without looking up.

‘How come Shelby has such large testicles and we don’t have any?’

Shelby is an Italian greyhound with a set of testicles that could be used as door knockers for a castle and was often seen proudly displaying them to make other dogs jealous.

Shelby

Shelby’s testicle door knockers (Photograph Gabrielle)

Blushing in response, Pippin replied ‘Well because we had ours removed when we were younger. Some dogs have them and some dogs don’t’.

‘But do you miss having testicles because Shelby’s are enormous and Dash told August who told Rocco who told me that he has been seen bouncing down the road on them like spacehoppers’ said Brutus.

Pippin was now going red as he was not used to talking about such things. Not knowing what to say, he merely muttered something about ‘Testicles just get in the way of stuff’.

‘But wouldn’t you want to have a set like Shelby’s?’ Brutus asked Pippin who had buried his head in a ‘Dogs Today’ magazine.

Pretending that he didn’t care about Shelby’s testicles, Pippin sighed and taking a swig of bone broth, he replied simply ‘No, I don’t do heavy weights as I have a bad back’.

Brutus looked thoughtful ‘Mine were never heavy, they were like two frozen peas in a handkerchief when they were removed’.

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Brutus has testicle envy of Shelby (Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Looking up in embarrassment Pippin said firmly ‘Please can we talk about something else’.

‘Just going to the toilet’ Brutus said as he jumped up to go to the loo.

Ten minutes later and Brutus hadn’t returned.

‘Goodness me, where is he?’ Pippin said impatiently. That dog could get lost in anyones house as he wasn’t the brightest dog on the block. Pippin had been told that the other night Brutus had used his head to push open the sliding patio security door and had literally popped the entire sliding security door out of its frame causing his Mum (me) to get up and catch it before it fell on the car (yes really).

The guy that came to fix it yesterday just stared at Brutus and said ‘Yes, well……’ as Brutus blushed at the fact that his hammer-head was capable of such destruction – but that is another (expensive) story and I shall leave that to my husband to tell.

Anyway, Pippin was wondering where Brutus had got to and just as he was about to get up, he heard snorting and laughing as ‘Pigaloo’ (Brutus’s nickname) came staggering out of Denise Pringle’s bedroom walking like a cowboy.

‘Hey Pippin, do I look as good as Shelby?’ Brutus grinned at Pippin who had his mouth open so wide that he could have caught flies in it.

‘Oh my god…..’ Pippin spluttered as bone broth shot out of his nostrils.

Pippin mouth

Pippin says ‘Oh my god’ (Photograph by Samantha Rose)

There stood Brutus with a silken handkerchief tied around the base of his tail with two scented round (large) candles stuffed inside. Barely able to walk, Brutus walked like a constipated cowboy with a poo fighting to get out of his bum.

‘Let’s phone Shelby and tell him I have balls as big as he does’ Brutus said proudly while struggling to look in the mirror and admire his new ‘man-shape’.

Dog in the mirror

Brutus checks himself out in the mirror (Photograph by Samantha Rose)

‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’ Brutus asked Pippin while trying to organise his ‘balls’.

‘Oh my god…’ Pippin repeated and then mopped his brow and took a swig of bone broth before replying ‘They don’t suit you Brutus, they make you look fat’.

Brutus who has a thing for his figure and likes to remain svelte and musclebound, blushed ‘Do you really think so? Do you think I look better without them?

Swallowing his bone broth, Pippin wiped his snout and replied firmly ‘Absolutely’.

‘Oh well, if you insist’ Brutus sighed and then swaggered back to Denise’s bedroom to remove the handkerchief and scented candles from between his legs.

(Sounds of Bronte coming in the door)

‘We have had a marvellous evening but I am so glad to be home, I am totally exhausted’ Bronte said dramatically as she fanned her pretty snout with a copy of ‘Who is who at Dogs West’.

Spotting Brutus, Bronte grinned and said ‘Hi Brutus, how’s it going?’

Brutus got up to greet her and gave her face a little clean to say hello.

Raising her snout to the air, Bronte asked ‘Can anyone smell vanilla?’

‘Don’t ask Bronte, just don’t ask’ Pippin stepped in quickly before the whole story could leak out.

‘Would you like me to fetch you some bone broth?’ Brutus asked Bronte in a bid to impress her.

‘Yes please Brutus, that is kind of you’ Bronte said gratefully.

‘So Pippin, what’s been happening, did you teach Brutus how to be a clever boy?’ Bronte smiled at her brother.

Pip and Bronte

Pippin and Bronte discuss polishing the turd that is Brutus (Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Glancing round to Brutus who was in the kitchen pouring Bronte some of Denise Pringle’s famous bone broth, Pippin sighted some candle staining down Brutus’s legs and a waft of vanilla each time he wagged his tail.

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Brutus smells of vanilla (Photograph by Samantha Rose)

Taking a deep breath Pippin replied firmly ‘I think he has a while to go before he is a clever boy, but he sure knows what to do with candles’.

And with that explanation – Bronte had to be content.

The End

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright November 2015

The Fastest Dog in Australia 2015 – First Heats

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Pippin Pringle talks to Gordon about lure coursing

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Firstly I would like to apologise in the delay of the Toppa in QLD story, I am halfway through that but have had a few personal things going on. Toppa has done very well in QLD in the show ring and his testicles are the talk of the town but that is another story and I shall get that finished as soon as I possibly can.

The Fastest Dog in Australia Heats 2015

This years contest is bigger than last year and the following clubs are now also competing which is fantastic news.

Adelaide Lure Coursing and Lure Racing are taking part as are the Yarra Valley Whippet Social Racing Club, Victoria so four states are competing this year.  So come on Northern Territory, I have made up stories for your crocs, dingoes and kangaroos but having your dogs on board would be fabulous!

The Big Day Arrives

It was Good Friday and the day for lure coursing and the first set of heats for West Coast Dog Sports for the Fastest Dog in Australia for 2015.

It was also being held at a new venue – Dogs West Show Grounds in Southern River, instead of our usual Kings Meadow Polo Grounds site which was actually quite nice for a change although some of the dogs were a bit nervous about having their routine changed – well Brutus in particular.

‘Will the grass be as nice?’ Brutus sobbed to me that morning as I got him ready, he was panicking at the slightest change and for Brutus; another venue may as well mean the end of his big brown world. IMG_0054

Poor old Brutus – doesn’t take much to confuse him!

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Did you just ask if the grass would be as nice, did you just really ask that?’ Rocky demanded in amusement. IMG_0276

What did you just say? said Rocky

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Vader told me that the grass on the South of the River is brown and the grass in the Polo Club is a nice green colour and if we run on different grass then our legs will fall off’ Brutus protested.

He quite liked his legs and really did not want them to fall off. Rocky bit his lip to avoid responding but Gordon who had no such self-restraint muttered stuff about Brutus falling from the idiot tree and banging his head on every branch as he fell down. J6

Gordon can give a dirty look that shrivels grown men

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Don’t worry Brutus, you will not lose your legs’ I reassured him and gave Gordon a dirty look which was totally wasted as he was washing his bum and ignoring me.

‘Good luck Brutus!’ Rocky waved to us as we pulled out of the driveway.

Brutus pressed his face up against the car window leaving nose art smeared on the glass and waved back at Rocky until he disappeared out of sight.

‘Are we there yet?’ Brutus demanded as we got on to the main road.

‘No Brutus, we are not there yet’ I replied. ‘Have you farted?’ I demanded to him as I smelt the familiar smell of ‘gastro-pup’ fill the car.

Sniffing his own bum Brutus then looked at me and said flatly ‘Yes, I have’.

And with that reply I had could say nothing.

On arrival at the lure coursing grounds (Dogs West)

The Italian Greyhound gazebo was already set up with several of our group already settled.  The first dog we saw was Chewy who was full of excitement at what the day had to offer him.

‘Hi Brutus, how’s it going?’ Chewy grinned to Brutus.  Wearing his finest pants (pantaloons), Chewy the Tibetan, looked quite splendid in all his ‘smallness’ and for such a small dog, exuded presence that demanded that your admiration.

When Chewy runs down the track his sole aim is to get you to admire his coat, the fact that he looks uber cute as he runs is a bonus. IMG_0356

Chewy – the big dog in a little body with cute pants

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Hi Chewy, have you seen Vader – he came with his Mum and Dad and Tess in their car?’ Brutus asked nervously.

‘Nope, he isn’t here yet’ Chewy replied and then stuffed his nose up Poppy’s bum to see where she had been.

Deciding to have a look around to see who was there, Brutus left the Iggy camp and went for a walk.

Sighting the Mouse Norris the greyhound who was there with her sister Barbie and some other greyhounds, Brutus went over to say hello to them.

Mouse is officially head of ‘The Cool Gang’ and always does cool stuff like travelling, kayaking and just going everywhere and anywhere including riding in her own trailer at the back of her Mums bike.

Someone said that Mouse actually has her own passport and has been around the world but that is just a rumour although it wouldn’t surprise me. 10517584_662020460552670_2824292422610396961_n

Brutus and Mouse Norris in the early days of their friendship

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Hi Mouse!’ Brutus shouted.  At one point Mouse would have ignored such a strange-looking dog but Brutus had been on the circuit enough to have proven himself and Mouse now greeted him like one of her cool gang.

Nodding at him and smiling, Mouse replied ‘Hi Brutus, good luck for today!’ while Barbie looked round and gave him the paws-up symbol for good luck.

Brutus was absurdly pleased and tried to look ‘cool’ at such an acknowledgement. As he walked off, he turned round and smiled back at Mouse and at the same time tripped over a blade of grass but thankfully nobody saw it except for a chunky looking Pug that snorted with laughter but everyone else thought that was just his breathing and totally ignored him.

Team Pringle

Brutus was now back in the Iggy section and Vader had arrived with his sister Tess who was air-kissing Woody and Hamish and telling them how marvellous it was to see them. 10641229_10152780218323317_2720869455981626668_n

Brutus and Pippin discuss race tactics

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘It felt wrong us not being in the car together this morning’ Vader whispered to Brutus who agreed with him, although it was for the best as three dogs in the car and three humans would be far too much even by Brutus’s standards.

‘Haven’t seen you in years, shall we chew each others jowls?’ Vader asked Brutus who obliged by cleaning Vader’s mouth which caused Tess to wrinkle up her snout in disgust at such a public display of snot exchange. 10256912_638694072885309_8121693479915909382_n

Brutus and Vader – Jowl lickers forever

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Pippin was busy on his iPad trying to liaise with Nica and Zara who had gone with their Mums down South for the Easter break. He wanted to find out how things were going down there and so that he could give Nica all the updates and although they were on holiday; the girls were still expected to keep up with the lure coursing gossip. 11065898_10152780095983317_4961539582172621579_n

Pippin trying to organise everyone

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Rocco and Madam Gigi were also absent as were Olive and Bambi and several of the others so the Iggy contingent were pretty thin on the ground although Woody made up for it with his stealth like ability to get on the knees of everyone that he met and would come off smelling of various perfumes from intense cuddle and petting sessions.

Brutus got quite excited at the little Dachshund and almost asked for its mobile number until Poppy told him that he was in fact a boy, not that it bothered Brutus as Pippin told him little things like that don’t matter.

‘Did your Mum get you that?  I would SO love one of those’ Poppy the Chinese Crested gushed at Bronte who was showing off her beautiful collar that Dee Cole (The Canine Company) had hand-made for her.  Pippin also has one – ‘Fifty Shades of Pippin’.

‘Yes she did and she has ordered me some other clothes as well’ Bronte said confidently. Bronte had the best wardrobe for miles only rivalled by that of Tess, with a rich selection of dresses, skirts, tops and collars to name but a few.

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The latest on the catwalk – according to Bronte

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

In fact rumours had it that even the top fashion designers from Paris, New York and Rome would come to Bronte’s house for ideas for Paris Fashion Week and consult with the tiny Italian greyhound about ‘what is hot’ and ‘what is not’ in the world of Iggies.

‘Do you like my pants?’ Chewy barked loudly, feeling a bit left out; he wanted to direct the conversation towards himself to show off his ‘pantaloons’ which looked just like the baggy Arabic dance pants and very good they looked too.

‘I wouldn’t mind a pair of pants like that’ Brutus nodded approvingly and then asked Vader for his opinion on Chewy’s pants. ‘I could shit in those and Mum would never know, how much fun that would be!’ Vader replied momentarily excited at the thought of having some pants to store turd in.  He could use them as weapons to flick over the fence to hit next doors cat, now that would be fun.

‘Please excuse my brother, he is quite revolting’ Tess sighed and then went back to discussing joint issues and the benefits of supplements with Woody. IMG_7905

There are two Woody’s in Tess’s life – here is the toy one

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Millie the border collie, Poppy and Bronte were busy looking through some samples of dog collars and clothes. ‘I wouldn’t mind one of those collars’ Millie said pointedly at her Mum who must have overheard as the next minute she was rifling through the box looking for something to order her.

‘I wish my Mum would buy me one of those collars, I tried a Hugh Hefner style collar on at the last event and thought I looked quite mature for my age’ Brutus said wistfully to Vader who giggled as the words ‘mature’ and ‘Brutus’ simply did not go in the same sentence.

‘My Mum said there is no point in wasting one on me, she reckons I would break it in seconds’ Vader laughed truthfully.

Brutus just hung his head and said nothing.  He thought he looked jolly nice in the collar he tried on and would have loved one for himself but a new collar was certainly not on my priority list for him when I had other things to think about financially.

The Cloth Dogs and the ‘Crate of Barks’

You have all read about what I describe as ‘The Cloth Dogs’ which are Kim and Ian Cross’s Afghan hounds. I use the term ‘Cloth Dog’ as when they run down the track they look like a piece of silk cloth floating along the grass and the image can be very suddenly ruined when they decide to roll in horse shit which although hilarious to watch, must take ages to get out of the fur.

One of the Cloth Dogs is called Eugene and he also plays the piano and enjoys a bit of 70s dancing but once again, that is another story. 603870_10152780096713317_6197082827611651898_n

Eugene – The Cloth Dog

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Eugene like Rocco, Bentley and Sting the Italian greyhounds, suffers a bit of Tourette’s and is prone to outbursts of bad language and insults and can always be heard from his crate yelling stuff to other dogs as they go by.

Today was no different and surrounded by his wives, Eugene was absolutely furious at every dog that had the audacity to walk past his crate.

Eugene has a strong foreign accent that gets harder to understand the angrier he gets and when he is in his crate with his wives, it can get quite heated.  The crate I might add is known as ‘The Crate of Barks’.

‘Your Mumma she eat turd for her breakfast!’ Eugene yelled in broken English to a couple of Ridgebacks that walked by while Lucy – one of Eugene’s wives giggled behind him and hid behind her fringe for anonymity .

‘Your Mumma she lick the cats bottom!’ shouted a grizzled looking dog in a fake Italian accent back to Eugene while a group of Weimaraners looked horrified at such words and shook their heads in horror. (dogs will often talk in fake foreign accents purely for effect)

All you could hear was the exchange of angry words between the grizzled dog and Eugene with stuff like ‘Your Mumma she did this’ and ‘Your Mumma she did that’ and my personal favourite ‘Your Mumma has a snout like my Mumma’s anus!’.

‘I eat your family for breakfast!’ growled Eugene and then whispered to his wives in the crate ‘You girls can bark as well and make it sound scary’.

‘This is the bad-ass crate for the bad dogs, you are in my hood now!’ the angry Afghan barked.

‘Yeah, I could eat you for breakfast you big fat hairball!’ squealed a Jack Russell Terrier who looked a bit like Danny De Vito, ‘I have contacts you know and I could snap you like a twig!’

‘You have been watching too many movies little dog, I shit things out of my bum bigger than you’ Eugene barked.

‘I will come back with my friends’ spluttered the Jack Russell angrily and then realised that he hadn’t actually brought any friends and would have to round-up some invisible ones instead.

‘And that man-bun on the top of your head makes you look like a hairy sumo girl!’ snarled the Jack Russell which caused Eugene to stop yelling and ask Lucy if he really did look like a hairy sumo girl.

‘I don’t look like a girl do I?’ Eugene asked her. Lucy flicked her fringe dramatically and replied soothingly ‘Just ignore him, he is jealous’.

‘Big fat hairy sumo girl!’ barked the Jack Russell and then started to flash Eugene his bum to antagonise him.

The thing is with little dogs, the smaller they are the bigger that they think they are and the more you reprimand them and hold them back, the more they say ‘Let me at it, I shall eat him alive’ – even if the dog is the size of a small snack, it simply won’t stop them thinking how big and tough they are.

Just as it was about to all kick off, Brutus walked past with Millie and grinned at Eugene ‘Hi Eugene, how’s it going?’

‘Piss off and don’t ruin my moment’ Eugene growled harshly at Brutus.

‘He is such a kidder, he is a teddy bear really, I love him’ Brutus said confidently to Millie (Brutus loves everyone and thinks everyone loves him which is not strictly true).

‘I am not so sure about that Brutus’ Millie said nervously as Eugene flipped Brutus the bird through the bars of his crate and gave a flick of his ‘man bun’ which is the hair on top of his head all pinned up so that it doesn’t get knotted.

Leaving Eugene and his wives to defend his ‘crate of growls’, Brutus and Millie made their way to the sausage sizzle because Millie wanted to give Brutus a lesson in how to vacuum off a sausage from the counter in one easy step while ignoring the onions.

Millie I should add, was an expert in this as she had already inhaled her human brothers cheese and salad wrap from the table leaving no evidence except for a bit of cheese on her black and white snout.

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Millie the border collie and expert inhaler of food

(Photograph by Studio Joy)

A Hot Dog Affair

‘So you see what you do is to pretend you are asleep but have the sausage firmly set in your sights and when your parents are not looking you quickly lean up with your head to the side and inhale the sausage’.  Millie whispered to Brutus.

‘But watch you don’t choke on it and always run away and eat the evidence so they can pin nothing on you and never eat the onions as they are poisonous’ Millie added confidently.

Brutus was taking on board everything Millie told him but then he realised that we never actually have sausages in our house so he would have to try something else.  He briefly wondered if hash browns would be as good but if he swallowed one of those whole he would end up with a triangular shape in his throat (or so I can imagine).

Bundy – The Town Crier and Brutus The Good Boy

You all know Bundy the fluffy Samoyed otherwise known as the Town Crier, he announces everything and anything and nothing but does so with such passion and enthusiasm that the title cannot possibly be removed from him.

Bundy and Brutus have become good friends after Bundy came to Brutus’s birthday party and the boys always enjoy catching up. IMG_8830

Brutus and Bundy – the Town Crier

(Photography by Sam Rose)

Dogs have been known to watch Bundy to see what he has to say and even clap afterwards despite his speeches making no sense whatsoever.  Bundy is what you might call the Martin Luther King of the dog world when it comes to giving speeches.

‘Here I am everyone, I am here, I am there and I am everywhere!’ Bundy barked to everyone that would listen and anyone that wouldn’t.

‘Race for your lives, race for your families, race for the world and then spread the word that lure is the cure!’ Bundy barked hysterically working himself up to fever pitch. A small crowd of dogs had gathered round Bundy who was totally not stopping for breath.

One husky wagged his tail enthusiastically, proud to be part of such a gathering while Millie and Brutus had left the sausage sizzle and had joined Bundy to hear what he had to say.

‘Brutus you must go back to Team Pringle at the Iggy stand at once!’ Bundy barked in a firm voice. ‘Yes, you must go at once’ the Husky added to the instruction and then every dog in the area had added their part ‘You must go at once’ until it became so loud that ignoring it was simply not an option.

‘Goodness what on earth could this be about?’ Brutus asked Millie who shrugged her shoulders as she had no idea at all.

‘Your Mumma eat the shoe off my foot!’ Eugene shouted from his ‘Cage of Barks’ and as Brutus and Millie walked by he added ‘Go to Team Pringle at once!’ followed by ‘Your father eat mouldy socks for tea’ while a tough looking Dachshund standing next to him did a ‘cut throat’ sign with his paw for effect and nodded so vigorously that his head nearly fell off.

‘What have I done wrong? I only washed Pippin’s genitals once and I haven’t chewed Mum’s bras in ages’ Brutus thought nervously.  He had been a good boy, or at least he thought he had.

It was very important  for Brutus to be a ‘good boy’ and it had got to the stage where Dee Cole and the Iggy crew had even awarded him a certificate for a pretend ‘Good Boy Award’ because it meant so much to him.

On arrival at the Team Pringle tent, Pippin was holding court to the group who were all whispering and nodding and doing the usual stuff that is indicative of gossip.

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Pippin Pringle calls the meeting

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Shhh, here he is!’ Bronte hissed to Pippin who blushed and then picked up a piece of paper with a speech written down on it.

‘Oh I can’t wait for this one!’ Woody grinned to Vader who was now trying to persuade his tongue to get back into his mouth and stop interrupting.

‘Can I stand next to Brutus so that he can sniff my bum?’ Poppy the Chinese Crested asked Pippin who frowned at her and told her to remember her manners. Tess had no such self-control and was flashing her pink paws and tidy bottom at Brutus who was so scared of what was to come that he never even noticed.

Chewy, Millie and Taia sat impatiently waiting for the announcement and Bronte was whispering stuff in Pippin’s ear as he went through what was written on the paper.

‘What’s going on? What have I done?’ Brutus asked Pippin who had put his half rimmed spectacles on (with no glass on them but they make him look smarter) to read the speech.

‘Sit down Brutus please’ Pippin ordered the big brown gentle giant who was so nervous that his bottom had started to have a party all by itself by farting.

Wrinkling her delicate nose, Poppy said ‘What on earth is that smell?’

Vader whispered ‘He has farted, we always fart when we are nervous – it is a medical condition you know.

‘Right, let’s get started!’ Pippin coughed to clear his throat and then clapped his skinny paws together to get everyone’s attention.

‘We – the Iggies and honorary Iggies would like to award you The Good Boy Award for being a good boy and would very much like you to have this collar – hand-made by Dee Cole (The Canine Company) which means you are officially a Good Boy and an honorary Iggy’ Pippin said proudly.

‘But Rocco said that the Good Boy Award was just made up to keep me happy’ Brutus faltered, blushing and trying to make himself small as everyone was staring at him.

‘Yes that may well be so but you are OUR Good Boy, and you protect us Iggies and have become part of our little group so that makes the award official’ Pippin added.

‘And Dee Cole, Kim Cross and Denise Pringle say you are a Good Boy, so does Fran Forbes in QLD and all the others in the Iggie club say it so it must be true’ Bronte said in a tearful voice, (she always gets emotional at speeches and has been known to thank everyone including the Queen, Gucci, Prada and her Mum).

Looking down at the beautiful hand-made leather collar, Brutus examined it closely and admired the soft leather and the gold patterns on it.  It really was gorgeous and it was the Hugh Hefner collar that he had tried on and had always wanted but never thought he would have.

‘I don’t know what to say’ Brutus said quietly as he did his famous Brutus-expression with his bottom lip hanging down like a coin slot.

‘Well you could try it on for starters!’ Chewy laughed at the big brown dog who was going red and clearly about to go ‘Full Pippin’ and burst into tears.

*Pippin Pringle is prone to bursting into tears when he is tired or emotional – hence the term ‘Full Pippin*

‘I shall help you put it on’ Tess said gently to Brutus and then stood on her little white hind legs as Brutus bowed his head down to have his Good Boy Collar placed on his neck and it fitted him very well I might add and made him look very handsome. 11107735_10152780219063317_6938734160774915211_n

Pippin presents Brutus with his ‘Good Boy Collar Award’

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Speech! Speech!’ Bronte and Millie squealed together as Woody, Tess and the others all started to join in with a slow and deliberate clap of paws.

‘I do feel like you are my family really and I know that you are all smarter than me and I am a bit clumsy but I do love you all and would like to thank you for my lovely collar’ Brutus stuttered as he tried to find his words and not quite knowing what to do next; he farted and then turned round and checked his bum for stains.

‘Good lad!’ Vader said with his voice full of pride as Tess poked him to be quiet,

‘And I know that I am not a pedigree or a show dog but winning The Good Boy Collar Award means so much to me’ unable to find the words to say anything else, Brutus was so overcome with emotion, that he hung his big boofy head down and couldn’t think of what else to say as he took little gasps of breath while trying not to cry as tears poured down his brown cheeks. 11129350_10152780217533317_1478480799006317683_n

Brutus displays his collar and tries to stand like a show dog

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Here’s to Brutus the Good boy!’ Eugene shouted from outside the Iggy tent as the other dogs clapped and cheered. Having dragged his Mum Kim down to the Iggy camp.  Eugene was wearing his 70s flared pants and still proudly sporting his ‘man-bun’ above his head.

Not used to seeing Brutus show so much emotion, Pippin decided that a diversion was in order to get things back on track and to save the big brown dog from further embarrassment.

‘Come on you lot, rumours have it that Brutus and Vader are going to be called for their first trial for the Fastest Dog in Australia contest, so let’s get these boys ready!’ Pippin shouted to his team.

Standing there wearing his ‘Good Boy Collar’, Brutus stared round at his friends.  They were all smiling at him and wagging their tails.

Even Eugene had stopped his bout of Tourette’s and was wagging his big fluffy tail in response, but don’t be fooled by that – he was back to swearing and shouting ‘Your Mumma eat turd for breakfast’ a few minutes later.

‘My friends – they are all my friends and I love them’ Brutus thought to himself and remembering just a year ago when he first went lure coursing and hadn’t met the Iggies, now he could not imagine his life without them in it.

And let us not forget Vader, his trusty ‘special’ mate that body slams him, that engages in mutual cleaning of the jowl flaps and enjoys bad habits with, now that is a friendship that is truly special.

The Fastest Dog in Australia – Brutus and Vader do their bit

‘Oh god I am nervous, what do I do, where do I run?’ Brutus cried as Lexie took his leash – she was going to release him and I would catch him at the other end.

This time he had to go through narrow timing gates to get a precise timing for the competition. ‘You know what to do, you have done it before and however you do I am proud of you’ I reassured the trembling dog who just a week before had been laid up with gastro due to some dodgy kangaroo meat.

Making my way down to the other end I nervously bit my lip waiting for him to be released. ‘Is that Brutus, who normally crashes the barrier?’ laughed the lure operator and feeling my cheeks burn, I said that yes it was.  (Brutus can’t turn corners you see and just thinks it is easier to crash the barriers).

Within seconds Lexie had released him, the lure had been set off and Brutus shot forward with his mates cheering him on shouting ‘Go on Turd Legs, you can do it!’.

He ran so well and was right on the lure and totally ignored me – he was fixed on it like a good boy.  Usually he looks for his Mum (me) but this time he knew what he had to chase and was hell-bent on getting it.

Vader stood at the side waiting his turn and shouted ‘Go on Brutus, you can do it!’ in between choking on his tongue and farting with nerves and excitement.

Brutus I must add; has a fabulous imagination and each time he runs he has the ‘Chariots of Fire’ theme tune in his head as he imagines he is running is own Grand National.

Although you and I both know that he is running alone chasing a plastic bag on a lure, in Brutus’s eyes he is a professional racing dog. FD6

Brutus taking his turn for the Fastest Dog in Australia competition

(Photograph by Studio Joy)

He has been known to get so emotional that he cries down the track and imagines people cheering him and congratulating him for ‘winning his race’.

I am not one for ruining his dreams as we are all entitled to those but I do get fed up with the Chariots of Fire theme tune though that Brutus insisted on playing in the car on the way down to get him in the mood.

I was very proud of him though as this was a new venue and Brutus ran straight through the timing barriers like a champion and in true Brutus style ran straight past me and then came back for me to put his leash on. FD8

Brutus going through the timing gates at the finish

(Photograph by Studio Joy)

‘Did I win? Did I win?’ Brutus panted and as usual I did not have the heart to tell him that it was more a timing thing than a race and that he wasn’t racing against anyone but let him enjoy his moment all the same.

Then it was Vader’s turn and in a true Jowls of Fire event, Vader, his tongue and his jowls flapped their way down the track in a flurry of snot as the chunky boxer dog also ran like a champ.

Being a total pro at turning corners, Vader was only mildly disappointed that there were none there but did very well all the same.

The dogs were all watching Vader while chanting the Chariots of Fire theme tune which sounded hilarious if you can imagine a gang of dogs shouting ‘Da da da da da da, da da da da da, da da da da da da, da da da da da’ (I bet you have just sung it yourselves haven’t you!)

‘Look at that tongue!’ Bundy shouted and then started to bark frantically to announce the arrival of Vader’s tongue. Vader 2

Vader – (Jowls of Fire) does his heat in the Fastest Dog in Australia competition

‘Go on flappy jowls!’ the Irish terrier growled in support as he did like to cheer on the other dogs and was a passionate lure courser himself.

Vader thundered over the finish line to be met by his mates who all congratulated him for his effort.

‘Proud of you Vader, you did well.  Where is your tongue?’ Brutus asked his friend.

Opening his mouth, Vader displayed his enormous tongue and said ‘I think it is here’.

‘Good, now keep it tucked inside safe before someone mistakes it for a Christmas ham’ Brutus told him as both boys walked back towards the Iggy tent while trying to talk over one another as to who ran the fastest and it was decided that Vader’s tongue won by a metre. 10551075_683596318395084_4256826329900557973_n

Never underestimate the power of Vader’s tongue

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Bundy has his turn

As Bundy took his turn to run it was soon realised that there was no-one to announce it so Bundy decided to do it himself.

‘I am running now, lock up your families and feed your children, I am about to set the grass on fire’ Bundy barked to everyone.

He got so excited that he actually almost pulled his Mum round the wrong way and nearly ran in the wrong direction. ‘Let me at it, where is that lure?’ Bundy demanded angrily.

‘It’s behind you, if you run in that direction you shall end up in the ladies toilets!’ Eugene barked while Lucy his wife tried not to laugh.

‘I knew that, I totally knew that’ Bundy said in an embarrassed voice before his Mum had managed to turn him in the right direction.

‘And he is off!’ Eugene nodded approvingly as Bundy set off like a cotton ball shot out of a cannon as he chased after the lure while continuing to bark and announce himself to the world. 10401947_1633567683539045_2585048158794137530_n

Bundy the Cotton-Cannonball takes his turn in the contest

(Photograph by Studio Joy)

The importance of friendships – both real and invisible

I have said before that every dog has an invisible friend for the days when there is no-one else to fight or argue or play with and the power of these invisible friendships should never be underestimated.

If you look around the grounds at any doggy event be it a dog show, agility or lure coursing, you will see dogs playing with their invisible friends.  You will see dogs barking at nothing – except that it isn’t nothing, it is their invisible friend.

You will see tails wagging at nothing in particular but what you won’t see is the invisible dog that is inciting that reaction.  It really is a marvellous phenomenon, not to mention the fact that when your dog does something naughty in the home, the invisible dogs are always to blame.

Anyway back to lure coursing where one dog was having a fight with his invisible friend over the lure and threatening to bite him.  Growls and barks filled the air as the terrier insulted his invisible friend and threatened to piss on his head until his owners came and got him for his turn to race and then it was ‘game on’ as the little dog ran its legs off. 11115714_1633571233538690_1237426702309039608_n

All dogs have invisible friends you know

(Photograph by Studio Joy)

A beautiful chocolate colour kelpie called Bruiser didn’t appear to have any invisible friends.  It was his first time at lure coursing and he was busy taking in the atmosphere while trying to work out who was what and whether or not Bundy was a sheep that needed to be herded up. 18489_10152780096273317_2704418740714725084_n

Bruiser the Kelpie‘s first time at lure coursing

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Hi, the name is Brutus’ Brutus barked at Bruiser the kelpie and offered his bum to be sniffed as a greeting which Bruiser did quite happily.

‘You look just like my brother Rocky except you are chocolate colour’ Brutus said in his special voice – he is a bit of a Forrest Gump is my Brutus.

‘Pleased to meet you’ Bruiser grinned, ‘So, tell me what all this lure coursing is about then’.

‘Well, it’s like this…..’  Brutus started to say.  As the two boys sat side by side, Brutus patiently explained to Bruiser about how lure coursing is a sport for both dogs and their owners to enjoy, a day out for everyone and a display of  fitness and endurance.

Not just limited to Australia, lure coursing is also popular in many countries around the world and the day is made extra nice if you can scrounge some treats from your Mum/Dad.

As quickly as Bruiser thought he had come to the event with no friends, he had made a new one in Brutus, Vader and the rest of the gang.  That is how it is at lure coursing you see, you are never without a friend for long be it invisible or real.

Bronte and Pippin – Their entries for Fastest Dog in Australia

Bronte was now at the starting line waiting to be released as Denise waited at the finish line to catch her.

‘That’s my sister that is!’ Pippin nodded to a Borzoi who was standing next to him.

In a strong Russian accent the Borzoi replied ‘Zat is a tiny leetle dog with a long snout, I bet she go very fast’.

But before they had chance to discuss Bronte further, she had already reached the finish line in such good speeds that the dogs around the barriers had taken out their calculators to see whose time she had beaten.

Looking the epitome of elegance and beauty, the Borzoi who called himself Valdov, was oblivious to all around him except for Bronte.  Who was this beautiful little red and white dog with long legs and he wondered if he could he take her back to Russia to be his wife?

‘I did it! Did I do it well?’ Bronte panted as Denise proudly carried her away from the track.

Pippin was not happy at the way Valdov was eyeing up his sister and he especially wasn’t happy with the way the giant dog was swigging Russian water from a hip flask either.

‘Pippin, it’s your turn’ Bronte said breathlessly, ‘Hello, I am Bronte – pleased to meet you’ she added holding out her slim paw to acknowledge Valdov who was boring his eyes in to her.

‘Hello Bronte, Vood you like me to teach you how to speak Russian?’ Valdov asked Bronte  causing her to blush. (Imagine that sentence in a Russian accent to get the idea)

Before she had chance to answer, Pippin whispered to the Borzoi ‘I know some Russian’.

‘Eeez zat right?’ Valdov smirked.

‘Yes’ Pippin said firmly and then stood up on his hind legs to make himself bigger and said loudly ‘Leave my sister alone or I shall piss in your vodka bottle’.

And with that Pippin walked off and took his position on the starting line to do his entry for the Fastest Dog in Australia while secretly shitting his pants as he had been so brave in standing up to the Borzoi.

But that is what you do for those you love, you stand up for them even when it scares you.

‘Go on my Pippin, you can do it!’ Bronte squealed as the little dog ran for his life towards his Mum Denise.

Brutus was cheering him on in his deep voice from the sidelines. He looked on Pippin and Bronte as family and loves to see them racing, especially as this contest is a big event for any Australian lure coursing dog.

Jumping into his Mum’s arms, Pippin was every inch the hero as he was carried off the track.

Winner of the Fastest Iggy in Australia last year, the Iggies were very proud of Pippin and how passionately flew the flag for the club in the competition for 2014 and had equally high hopes this year.

However, we shall not say anything about his secret penchant for ballroom dancing though and his liking for tight satin pants because you shall find out all about that another time and without saying too much, Eugene is heavily involved in that as well which kind of makes fun of his ‘Crate of Barks’ and ruins his reputation but there you go, we all have a guilty secret somewhere.

Lucy – Wife of Eugene and ‘Cloth Dog has her turn

Lucy the Cloth Dog was about to take her turn for the run and as usual provided some fabulous entertainment as she ran down the track in elegant fashion whilst resembling a piece of black silk cloth in the wind.

With the Cloth Dogs it is not the actually race that people come to see, it is the show they put on at the end which usually involves leaping over the barrier, joyously running around and if there is some horse turd to roll in then all the better.

The trouble was is at Dogs West Show Grounds there is no horse manure for them to roll in but that did not stop Lucy standing there after her race and saying ‘Who has hidden the horse shit?’ while the Dachshunds yelled things like ‘Little dogs have rights too’. 644434_1633568180205662_383941116012881424_n

Lucy the Cloth Dog floats down the track

(Photograph by Studio Joy)

This of course set everyone else off including Bundy who was barking away shouting ‘I am the fastest cotton dog in the West!’

Satisfied that Lucy had caused enough of a rumpus with her antics, Eugene had gone back to the ‘Crate of Barks’ and was busy trying to find his own bottom amongst all that fur so that he could wash his anus.

The life of Tess

Tess had made herself comfortable in my chair and was busy discussing respectable things with Hamish and Woody.

‘I have two homes you know and in one of them I get to do as I like and have my own personal chef (my husband) and two leather sofas. (Tess looks on my house as her house and that is fine because Gordon loves her as well).

‘I have lots of laps to go on and I can get cuddles and pats whenever I want’ Woody added to the conversation.

‘I just love everyone’ Vader replied to nobody in particular and reached out to wash Brutus’s jowls which was quite a disgusting habit enjoyed by both dogs but really was not pleasant for public viewing.

The End of the Day

The exhausted dogs were resting around the gazebo, some were asleep, some falling asleep but those that were awake were discussing the day and the next lure coursing session.  Always planning in advance for their next social event, nothing excited them more than lure coursing (well except for a play date at the Furbaby Cafe). 11081436_10152780096433317_5482140589938400588_n

Tess being a social butterfly while the others rest after a busy day

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Brutus was sitting in my chair with his legs apart and his manhood rudely on display which of course had Vader making comments about sausages and stuff. (I never even realised that until after I posted the photo on Facebook). 19800_10152780095848317_6364989530331126065_n

Brutus on my chair – once you see it, you cannot ‘un-see’ it

(Photograph ignorantly taken by myself – Sam Rose)

‘Pippin?’ asked Brutus, ‘Will you be having lots of mobile phones like last year and talking to all the States in Australia?’

Pippin looked thoughtful and replied ‘Of course I will, in fact I have a new mobile phone as well – do you like it?’ whipping out a Galaxy Note 3, it looked as though he was holding a laptop.

‘That’s enormous!’ Bronte gasped, ‘We could watch TV on that’.

‘Oh yes and Barney, Kath and Ruby will be reporting for their side and Amex, Shine and Gracie will be helping them and I do believe Luciano will be the Karratha Correspondent’ Pippin added.

‘Will you be talking to the Northern Territory again like last year, I remember some, crocs, roos and dingoes were involved’ barked Vader.

‘Oh yes, we must not forget the Northern Territory, the crocs are hardcore supporters of lure coursing you know’ Pippin grinned.

‘Can crocs do lure coursing, I never knew that?’ Brutus piped up from his (my) chair.

Poppy, Chewy, Hamish, Woody, Bronte, Taia, Millie and the little Dachshund burst out laughing. ‘Crocs don’t do lure coursing silly!’ Tess shook her head while giggling at Brutus.

‘I knew that, I was just seeing if you knew that’ Brutus blushed as even Vader laughed at him.

‘Yes, more people are involved this year and each year will see it get bigger and better than the last as we learn from each event’. Pippin said firmly.

‘It’s good to be part of it though isn’t it?’ Millie barked as the others all agreed with her.

‘Do you remember us all sat at our computers last year for the finals, that was awesome’ Bronte reminded the others.

‘Oh yes, none of us got much sleep that night’ Pippin laughed, ‘But it was worth it though’.

‘Well, here’s to the next heat for the contest and let’s hope we can better our times and if not, we shall have a bloody good time anyway’ Brutus barked loudly.

‘Here here!’ barked the others and for a few minutes that is all you could hear – the sound of barking and the sight of tails wagging as the gang acknowledged that the Fastest Dog in Australia competition 2015 was well and truly underway.

At Barney’s House in QLD

‘So is everything in order then, what happens now?’ Kath the greyhound asked Barney who was sitting at his desk typing up notes for the Fastest Dog in Australia contest.

‘Let the competition commence and may the best dog win!’  Barney replied as he nodded to Kath.

At Amex’s House in QLD

As one of the official correspondents, Amex had been ready for this contest months. In fact he was born ready and being meticulously organised, had his office sorted, computer connected and webcam wired up for a live feed around Australia to keep up with the contest.

Remembering how much fun it had been last year Amex was really looking forward to it this year and had even purchased an ear piece so that he could listen to updates when he went outside for a pee.

Yes, Amex was ready for the competition and was proud to be a part of it all.  It was something that united the dogs of Australia and raised awareness about the sport and the great fun that dogs and owners can have together.

Back home at Brutus’s House

Brutus had shown his ‘Good Boy Collar Award’ to Rocky who although he had called Brutus a ‘Girls blouse’ for wearing such a posh collar, Rocky was secretly jealous that he hadn’t got anything.

I did actually remind Rocky that Fran Forbes from QLD had bought him a Julie Gillard doll and Brutus a second Tony Abbott doll but Rocky still maintained he deserved a Good Boy Award even though he hasn’t always been a good boy if you know what I mean. J4

Rocky and his Julia Gillard doll that Fran Forbes bought him

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘So, how fast did you go today Turd Legs?’ Rocky asked Brutus later that night.

‘Don’t know really but I had great fun’ Brutus replied simply.  Curled up on the sofa with Gordon the cat, Brutus was exhausted after his day.

Rocky looked thoughtful and barked ‘Yep and that’s what counts’

‘Here Brutus, tell me about your Good Boy Collar Award again’ Gordon asked.  Being an indoor cat he loved hearing about their stories. 10342001_10152782927138317_264238942954362727_n

Brutus winning his race (in his dreams of course)

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

But Gordon never did get to hear about it because when he glanced round to Brutus, he saw that he was fast asleep with his legs twitching.  No doubt dreaming about ‘winning his own race’ – which in my book, he does so well.

Until next time……..

Acknowledgements and Thanks The Australian Lure Coursing Association 

Thank you to the Australian Lure Coursing Association for their promotion of the sport in Australia at a National level and for overseeing that it is run fairly, appropriately and to a high standard.

Sandra Burrows and the team put in a huge amount of work to get the results of the Fastest Dog contest out to us, it is no small job either so thank you Sandra for all your hard work in doing this, we do appreciate it .

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1399559963621860/?fref=ts

West Coast Dog Sports

Thank you to Dee Cole and all of the team at West Coast Dog Sports for their hard work in organising their heats for the Fastest Dog in Australia competition and for the lure coursing events in general that give our dogs the chance to compete in the sport.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/242717789174231/?fref=ts

Amy Joy from Studio Joy

Thank you to Amy Joy for kindly allowing me to use her photographs for my blog to bring it to life. Amy is available to take stunning photographs your animals at very reasonable prices  and If you would like a photo shoot with her then please contact her directly:

Amy Joy tel:  0430 549 346

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

A  special thank you from Brutus

Thank you to Dee Cole, Denise Pringle and everyone at the Italian Greyhound Club of Western Australia and Kim Cross for Brutus’s Good Boy Collar.  He will be saving it for evening wear and lure coursing.

If any of you would like a ‘Good Boy Collar’ for your own dog, please contact Dee Cole at the Canine Company:

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

Disclaimer:

No offence is intended by this story and I just write things down as they come in to my head. Whilst some (not all) of the dogs in my stories are in fact real, the dialogue that I give them is invented and any bearing or resemblance to the real dogs is purely coincidental and is in good fun and from my imagination only.

And if my husband is reading this and you suddenly find a tuxedo in Brutus’s wardrobe, you can blame Lexie as she got me started on all this and said that Brutus needed formal wear and as for the Hells Angels cap – I am saying nothing.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright April 2015

Watermarked photographs remain the sole copyright of Studio Joy and unmarked photographs remain the copyright of myself.

Brutus, Vader, Guns (and rifles)

rifles

Vader the boxer – confused about canine weaponry

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

The other day Brutus and Vader were in the courts together playing. Brutus was doing his usual twenty laps of the court to check out the ridgeback/cattledog bitch that was trotting on the other side of the courts.

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Brutus (left) Vader (right) – ‘special’ in every way

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

He (Brutus) has started to beef himself up a bit and puff himself out when he wants to impress the girls and if you can imagine a young man slapping on aftershave and suddenly taking a huge interest in his appearance, then you can imagine Brutus.

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Vader admires Brutus’s muscles

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

Vader was looking at Brutus, totally fixated on the large brown dog; Vader kept looking at his own body and feeling parts of it and then looking back at Brutus.

Brutus was unaware that Vader was staring at him and he kept winking at the ridgie bitch and asking her if he could have her phone number.

‘Call me’ Brutus mouthed and did the typical phone gesture with his paws, the ridgie bitch giggled and blushed furiously in response.

‘Brutus, what is that on your back and on your shoulders?’ Vader asked him.

‘What is what?’ Brutus replied and then strained his head to have a look at what Vader was trying to tell him.

‘That!’ Vader said and then wiped his snotty face on Brutus’s back to show him what he meant – the muscle pads on Brutus’s shoulders/arms.

‘Oh, that, they are my rifles’ Brutus replied knowingly.

‘Rifles?’ Vader spluttered, ‘What the fuck are rifles and how did you get rifles on your back’

‘It is what young men and dogs build up on their bodies when they mature’ Brutus growled in a superior voice, he liked knowing stuff that Vader didn’t.

‘Rifles? Are you sure? Why don’t I have rifles? Brutus, do I have rifles?’ Vader demanded and then promptly burst into tears and wailed to Lexie ‘Mum, where are my rifles?’.

He became so upset that he was drooling in festoons from his mouth and almost shit himself in the courts which would have been a disaster.

‘Every dog should have rifles on their back’ Brutus tried to placate Vader but Vader just got worse.

‘Mum, haven’t I got rifles on my back?’ Brutus ran up to me for reassurance, his huge brown eyes stared at me, silently demanding a confirmation about his ‘rifles’.

‘What did you say?’ I asked him, trying not to laugh.

‘I have rifles on my back and Vader doesn’t and now he is upset’ Brutus stuttered and then like any kid that has overdone it on defending himself, also burst into tears.

‘Brutus, that thing on your back and shoulders is known as muscle and all adult male dogs will develop it, some more than others and the term for it is not ‘rifles’ it is ‘guns’, who on earth told you it was called Rifles?’ I demanded to know, while trying not to snort with laughter.

Meanwhile Lexie was trying to reassure Vader that he had his own ‘guns’ and not ‘rifles’ but Vader was beyond comforting and was now a fully fledged boxer snot-monster.

‘I am never going to be normal unless I get rifles’ Vader howled before adding ‘I need to go for a poo’

So there was Vader with his anus winking like a pervert in a panty shop, Brutus was now crying that he didn’t have ‘rifles’ and now had ‘guns’ and I was wondering who the hell had started all of this.

Both boys had to stand next to each other while we explained about how muscles (guns) could look different on each dog and Vader had his own set of guns that were a bit more hidden than Brutus’s.

Anyway, after that we decided to go home and the boys said goodbye to each other.

‘See you later Vader’ Brutus said quietly.

‘Catch you later Brutus, we shall have to sort this out so we know what we have on our back if it is rifles or guns’ Vader cried and that was the last I saw of him as his big fat winking anus disappeared behind his door to no doubt treat his garden to a ‘man-shit’ later on.

‘How was your walk Turd Legs?’ Rocky grinned at Brutus when we got inside the house.

rifles 3

Rocky lied to Brutus about his ‘rifles’

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘It was OK but Vader is upset as he doesn’t have rifles like me and then Mum said I don’t have rifles and I have guns, so I don’t know anything any more, it is all so confusing’ Brutus said fretfully.

Rocky snorted with laughter ‘You SO did not believe me about the rifles, really you believed me? Oh my god I am going to tell everyone!’

‘Rocky, did you tell him his guns were called rifles?’ I snapped at the little black kelpie dog who was laughing so hard that he almost wet himself.

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Gordon finds Brutus’s gullibility so very funny

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Rifles?’ Gordon cried, ‘Oh Rocky you didn’t, now that is funny’.

‘Pretty good isn’t it, I didn’t think he would believe me but he did’ Rocky smirked.

Poor old Brutus, it took some living down for that little episode and he still gets embarrassed about the fact that he asked the ridgie bitch in the park if she would like to ‘tickle his rifles’.

guns

Brutus is dreaming about his ‘rifles’

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

This morning the boys were in the garden when Vader was at the fence trying to get Brutus’s attention.

‘Oi, Brutus – come here – I have some news for you’ Vader said with a mouth full of his tongue.

‘What’s up Vader?’ Brutus barked.

‘Wanna see the pistols on my back?’ Vader said teasingly.

‘Pistols?’ Brutus replied and then looked at Rocky while mouthing the word ‘Pistols?’

Rocky laughed and picked up his tennis ball and muttered ‘nice one Tess’.

‘Yeah, Tess said that I have pistols on my back’ Vader snotted back through the fence.

‘Told you he would believe me Rocky’ Tess shouted through the fence to Rocky.

‘Window lickers – the pair of them’ Rocky barked at Tess who giggled back at him.

IMG_7905

Tess – loves teasing her brother Vader

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

‘Guns, pistols or rifles – I don’t know what we are meant to have’ Vader growled to Brutus through the fence.

But Brutus had already gone back inside and was busy on my laptop trying to Google about weapons and the modern day dog.

‘Mum?’ Brutus barked.

‘Yes Brutus?’ I replied while trying to make a coffee, he always disturbs me when I am making coffee.

‘What’s a shot gun?’ said Brutus.

(deep sigh)

‘Brutus, I think we need to talk……..’

shot gun

Brutus – so many questions

(Photograph by Sam Rose)

The End

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright February 2015

Brutus, Baths and Doggy Chinese Whispers

choir dog

Brutus – you want me to have a what?

Today I have to report that Vader has been super naughty and has encouraged my boys to have ideas above their station.

I was bathing Brutus in the garden, now Brutus and water simply do not mix, Brutus and heat do not mix, Brutus and the cold/wet do not mix.

The only thing Brutus mixes with are clement temperatures as in the right temperatures, short bursts of energy, long Nana naps on his bed and Tony Abbott – that is it.

So when I bath him, he thinks I am assaulting his ‘Brutus-ness’ and he shivers, he cries, he licks the dripping water off his legs in a bid to stop it dripping and his bottom lip hangs down like a wash hand basin.

Rocky also hates baths as well but loves swimming which I can sort of understand but Brutus, well mention the word ‘bath’ and you may as well say ‘die now brown dog’.

‘Hey turd legs, Mum has the shampoo and a Cham-Wow so that can only mean one thing, you smell like turd and it’s bath time!’ Gordon said in a ginger smug voice. And we all know how much Gordon likes his baths so he can afford to be smug.

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Gordon does smug very well – he loves his baths

‘Don’t tease me, I don’t smell’ Brutus stuttered and then sniffed his own bum and decided that perhaps he did a little bit.

Rocky lay on his bed safe in the knowledge that he had his bath after swimming yesterday and would happily follow Brutus out to watch him if only to laugh at him.

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Rocky – the traditional water kelpie

‘Come on Brutus let’s go for a bath’ I said and clipped the leash on to his collar.

Now at two years old you would think that temper tantrums would be behind him but no, they are not and with all of his body weight, he threw himself to the floor and went floppy.

‘Don’t make me, please don’t make me – I don’t smell too bad do I?’ Brutus sobbed.

‘No darling but sadly Cockburn Cement Works are spilling out their cement dust which is kind of making you into a dirty dog and you don’t want that kind of crap on your coat do you?’ I reassured him, and all of it was true – my dogs, my house and my car are quite disgusting from dust fallout which seems to be a right bastard in the Summer.

10557318_10152286936003317_3056136339060035171_nPlease don’t wash my ‘Brutus-ness’ off, it takes ages to smell like this!

Eventually I got Brutus outside and tied him up and then set about wetting him with the hose while Rocky stood at a safe distance with his tennis ball in his mouth muttering ‘Oh my god, I am SO glad I had mine yesterday’.

I had just done the first shampoo when Vader the boxer started adding his twopence worth from next door.

‘Oh my god Brutus, run for your life, save yourself and your children – she is going to drown you!’ Vader yelled with his fat over sized tongue getting tangled up in his teeth.

1491613_746985125389536_8891399587345025270_nDogs have melted having baths – according to Vader

Bloody cheek of it, I shared a dog chew with him the other day, one would think that he would be more grateful.

The normally sensible Rocky decided to go to the fence to hear what Vader was saying and if I expected Rocky to tell him to shut up, I was sadly mistaken.

‘Rocky, go and save your brother, use diversion tactics – that hose is really a thick and long python that will eat you all including your tennis balls’ Vader said firmly to Rocky.

Rocky usually tells Vader to ‘Piss off’ just like he did at swimming yesterday but this time he heeded the warning. After all, how did we know it wasn’t true – the hose looked like a python.

10835032_746995708721811_5435806483139839060_oRocky – usually the sensible one

So by now Rocky started barking with Vader and both of them were shouting ‘Save yourselves, you will turn to shit and get picked up in a poo bag and put in the bin’

‘You will turn to turd’ Rocky shouted dramatically.

‘Turd is the same as shit stupid!’ Tess sighed and then admired her the pretty colours that her Mum had put in her fur.

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Look at my pretty paws – says Tess

Vader looked thoughtful and replied ‘Yes well, he will turn to something if he doesn’t get away from that python-hose’.

Rocky and Vader both barking which set off the two noisy terriers over the road who were now on the whole ‘Dog Warning Bark System’.

‘Dog being drowned in the suburb and washed in turd and eaten by a hose that used to be a snake’. The terriers shouted together.

As you all know that when dogs start up the warning bark it is comparable to a case of Chinese Whispers and what starts out as ‘Dog being bathed, help him’ ends up as ‘Dog ate bath and washed his owner and became a space-goat’

All the dogs in the suburb will get involved and work themselves up to fever pitch, froth at the mouth and look as though they have caught rabies.

Even dogs that don’t normally like one another and let’s face it, Rocky doesn’t like anyone, will form a solid unit of canine solidarity in order to get the message across.

And when it all finishes, they sort of cough nervously at the thought of letting their emotions go, and then go back to calling each other ‘Wankers’ through the fence.

Anyway, there I was washing Brutus and I was now on the second shampoo as I was trying very hard to get cement dust from his coat.

‘Prepare for the launch of tennis balls’ Vader shouted through the gap in the fence.

‘Ready and waiting!’ Rocky barked and then picked up his dirtiest tennis ball and threw it at my feet where it bounced and got Brutus on the side of his hind leg, leaving a filthy mark on it.

‘Rocky will you stop it!’ I hissed at the jaunty little black kelpie who was being surprisingly naughty with Vader encouraging him.

‘Rocky – save yourselves, you are next – you will be put on the BBQ and turned into a hot dog!’ Vader barked loudly and was getting louder by the minute.

‘Vader, you really talk crap sometimes’ Tess sighed and shook her head. Such dramatics and all over a bath which was no big deal as he could always roll in the mud again – that is what she would do.

In fact Tess is quite proud of her ability to make herself dirty after a nice wash – just ask Lexie.

‘Oh god this is funny, I must tell Pippin’ Gordon snorted with laughter and used his special ginger mobile to call Pippin the Italian greyhound to get ‘evidence’ that Brutus is a big girl for being scared of water and more to the point, so are Vader and Rocky.

‘Pippin, you should see Brutus behaving like a big girl whilst having his bath!’ Gordon laughed down the phone, he was laughing so much that he farted which is most un-Gordon-like. Gordon is actually more prone to vomiting Exorcist style but we won’t go into that as I dry retch thinking about it.

Pippin was horrified as any self respecting Iggy will tell you that water and delicate dogs do not mix and Iggies (Italian Greyhounds) have been known to literally melt when they come into contact with water, just as they have been known to lose legs when they are bitten by ants.

10670274_746996402055075_82575937971292471_nPippin the Italian Greyhound – dogs that melt in baths

‘Bathing Brutus?’ Pippin asked Gordon, ‘This is serious, I need to tell the group!’ he added sounding alarmed.

‘Are you OK Pippin?’ Bronte asked her brother.

Looking a touch pale, Pippin grabbed his iPad to do a FB status update and typed ‘OMG It’s Brutus – and a total disaster, he is being bathed with shampoo in the garden and has been eaten by the python-hose!’

Within seconds Madam Gigi, Nica, Bentley, Rocco and the gang had all responded with ‘Are you OK Hun? Shall we come round?’ Rocco was less tactful and just wrote ‘Bollocks’ but that is his Tourettes coming out so we can’t blame him.

Pippin sobbed to Bronte ‘Rocky and Vader are involved in the canine warning system but rumours have it and I don’t know who started them (Vader), that the water is coming out of the python-hose and everyone is going to be eaten!’ Pippin said sounding so terrified that Bronte actually pissed her knickers.

LZCSee – I told you dogs can use Facebook!

By the time I had done the final rinse on Brutus, Vader had barked himself stupid and his tongue had dried up and it was stuck to the fence – well I never actually saw it stuck to the fence but Tess told me it had and that was good enough for me as Tess never tells lies because she is a good girl.

Even a pelican that flew over the houses yelled down at me and called me a ‘dog drowning, python munching space-goat’ and that for a bird, is a dreadful insult to give.

‘I have never seen so much fuss over a bath’ I sighed as I took Brutus round to the dog area to dry off.

‘I dare you to roll in turd once she lets you out’ Vader shouted to Brutus who was still traumatized after his bath and was already planning to see Colleen from Manners ‘n’ More dog training for therapy to get over it.

‘I dare you to roll in the mud’ Rocky said defiantly to Brutus who just looked like a drowned rat and could not find the words to respond.

‘Brutus, just ignore them – you are lovely and clean now and will smell so nice’ Tess said from her garden in a soothing voice.

And as quickly as Vader started the incident, he finished it because soon all I could hear was him doing his usual ‘Boxer-fence-snuffling’ to check for food. On hearing Vader snouting at the fence, Rocky jumped up to the gap and spotted Vader’s fat tongue bulging out.

‘Oi, what do you think you are doing snub nose bastard?’ Rocky growled.

‘Yeah, look at you with your triangle pointy ears and snout – clicky hipped spastic!’ Vader yelled back.

‘I can’t keep up with you two’ Tess shook her head and went back to admiring her pretty paws.

‘Same time next week? – it should be good’ Rocky shouted to Vader.

‘Yep, see you then’ Vader replied and then said ‘Can’t wait’.

‘Bastard’ Rocky growled.

‘Wanker’ Vader growled back.

‘What about me?’ Brutus sobbed from the dog area, he was now dry and looking ever so shiny but also ever so sorry for himself.

Deciding to let him out of his area, I had rather hoped he would go to his kennel. (yeah right!).

‘I so knew that would happen!’ Gordon grinned from the bedroom window.

‘Knew what?’ I asked Gordon, turning round just in time to see Brutus joyously rolling around in the soil while Rocky humped his head and kicked sand on him.

‘Go on my son!’ Vader shouted through the fence and I could swear to God I could hear Tess giggling.

After that episode I washed my car and both dogs kept away from the ‘python-hose’ and even Vader was quiet.

But for now, both dogs (and my car) are clean – how long for is anyones guess.

Have a lovely weekend.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright December 2014

All photographs remain copyright to myself – please do not reproduce without my permission.

Brutus, Lure Coursing and a Reality Check

choir dog

We all tell our dogs that they are the best, that they are ‘good boys/girls’, the most handsome dogs on the block, the fastest, the best at what they do.

But there comes a time where sometimes, just sometimes – they need a bit of a reality check and tonight my friends, Brutus had to have his reality check.

Don’t hate me for it but I had to tell him and he had to know the truth.

It is the night before lure coursing – you all know the score, dogs gather round their computers and check the price of sausages, check out pictures of lure coursing and generally every self respecting dog is making plans, making lists and generally farting themselves stupid with excitement.

Now at the last lure coursing event, Brutus was entered for the full course for the very first time as he normally does the fun runs.

Brutus has terrible trouble stopping and has actually torn through the barrier before but at the last race meet we realised that Brutus is not only unable to stop, but he is also completely inept at turning corners and sort of carries on and either crashes through the barrier or scoots under it.

Brutus fence breaker

Brutus – simply cannot turn a corner

(Photography by Studio Joy)

A dog that can’t turn corners can easily be injured in lure coursing so I have decided to keep it fun for Brutus and just enter him in the sprint in the fun run.

Sounds like a plan? One would think so except tonight I heard Brutus telling Rocky that not only was he going to win the ‘Good Boy Award’ but he was also going to ‘win his lure coursing race’.

Despite the fact that it is not technically a race and despite the fact that there is no winner, Brutus builds himself up to the fact that there is and when people clap and laugh at him, he truly believes that they are here to watch him and him alone. He also has created his own invisible friends that race with him and every time he beats them paws down.

He even has vivid and impossible dreams that WA Cop Dog Rumble will be there to shout him on in support.

But as much as Brutus loves his lure coursing, he is a clumsy puppy with poor coordination and whilst Vader has excelled in the full course, Brutus thinks the larger space is purely to play, social butterfly and have fun and if Vader is with him, all the better.

However, I simply cannot risk him injuring himself with his inability to turn a corner and he isn’t just like it on the track, he is at home as well and has even ended up on the ROOF of my car – yes you heard that right, when he forgot to dodge the car and leapt on to the roof but we won’t talk about that episode as he is embarrassed that he frightened the shit out of himself and urinated down his own legs.

‘Brutus, can we have a chat please?’ I said gently to him.

‘Right, I chase the lure, then I get the girls phone numbers, then I play with Vader and then I win the Good Boy Award, everyone claps because they are there to see me and then I cry because I am so proud’ Brutus said aloud as he pretended to have a race with his Tony Abbott doll, his fluffy rabbit, his teddy bear and his squeaky penguin.

Bashing his toys together, Brutus made them ‘race’ around his little room and then declared the rabbit a ‘champion’ while the penguin won the ‘Good Boy Award’.

Good boy

Being a Good Boy is everything to Brutus

He looked so animated that I nearly backed down but remembering it was for his own good, I carefully took his toys away and put my arm around him.

‘Hello Mum, I love you!’ Brutus said quickly and then washed my face quite thoroughly.

‘Hello Brutus, I love you too’ I smiled back at him.

‘It’s lure coursing tomorrow, I am going with Vader, Lexie and Seb, did I tell you?’ Brutus said happily.

‘Yes Brutus, I will be in the back seat with you and Vader so I know all about that’ I laughed.

‘Don’t worry about a shower in the morning, Vader and I will wash your face – one of us each side’ Brutus said confidently.

‘Brutus, do you remember at the last event you crashed the barrier, you couldn’t turn corners and had trouble stopping?’ I asked him.

‘Yes, but Vader said corners are over rated and you can get by in life without turning corners and if in doubt, just jump over it’ Brutus said confidently.

Vader is Brutus’s best friend and has managed to convince him of this exceedingly well because Brutus had indeed started jumping over things instead of avoiding them.

Brutus and Vader

Vader and Brutus – best buddies

(Photography by Studio Joy)

‘Yes Brutus but the trouble with lure coursing and doing the full course, is that you have to be able to turn corners or you could get injured like Abigail – do you remember what happened to her?’

Brutus looked worried as his eyebrows creased over ‘Yes, I remember that, the Samoyed said she lost 7 of her legs’

I had to gently remind him that Abigail didn’t loose any of her legs and she only has four of them anyway.

‘Well, I have been thinking that it would be best for you to do the fun runs and you won’t have to worry about those nasty old corners or not being able to stop in time and everyone will still cheer for you and everything’. I said as I rubbed his ears.

Brutus looked crestfallen and suddenly I felt as though I had ripped his Tony Abbotts head off stuck pins in it.

When Brutus is upset, he has a slight deformity in his mouth that shows up and his bottom lip hangs down and if dogs could cry tears – Brutus would cry a river.

‘But Vader said I don’t need corners in my life!’ Brutus started to cry and in between washing my neck, he broke his big brown ‘Brutus-heart’.

I cuddled him, I held him but could I console him? No I couldn’t and within ten minutes he had convinced himself that he was ‘special’, disabled and would never win the ‘Good Boy Award’ purely because he couldn’t turn corners or stop when he needed to.

‘Jesus Christ on a bike, is this going to go on all night?’ Rocky growled from his bed.

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Rocky is never amused by dramatics

‘Excuse me Rocky but you are the one that throws major tantrums when I try and get you out of the ocean so you are a fine one to talk!’ I snapped back at Rocky.

‘Don’t worry Turd Legs, if you are that upset I can teach you to turn corners in the house’ Gordon sniggered from the top of the sofa.

IMG_5781

Gordon the cat – doesn’t suffer fools glaldy!

‘Gordon you are not helping the situation’ I muttered.

‘But I want to do the full course just like Vader!’ Brutus cried and then proceeded to work himself up into more states than Australia.

‘You know some of the best dogs can’t turn corners Brutus and you would hate it if you hurt yourself and had to have a bandage on your leg because that would mean no play time with Vader in the courts’ I said quickly. Grasping at straws I would say anything to calm him down.

Brutus sniffed and wiped his eyes ‘What did you say?’ He gulped.

‘Lots of dogs don’t do the full course – Pippin doesn’t do it and he won the fastest Iggy in Australia’ I said triumphantly.

Knowing how much Brutus worshipped Pippin, I crossed my fingers behind my back that this would work.

Brutus shrugged his shoulders and replied ‘I guess so’.

‘Guess nothing, you know I am right and don’t forget that Chewy loves the fun runs as well’ I added. ‘So if you want to be a good boy, you have to realise that all dogs have strengths in different areas, it doesn’t mean that they are less of a champion than the other dogs’.

Brutus gulped and took a few shuddering deep breaths – just like a child when they have been sobbing and can’t breathe properly.

Wiping his snotty snout on my T shirt, he sighed and said ‘OK, I will do the fun run’.

‘Good boy’ I smiled and tickled his ears.

‘Can I still win the ‘Good Boy Award?’ Brutus asked in a somewhat feeble voice. The Good Boy Award was not just important to him, it was everything.

‘Yes Brutus, you can still win the Good Boy Award’ I said and then tried to stand up, I say ‘try’, because my bloody legs had gone dead from kneeling on the floor.

‘Love you Mum’ Brutus said happily and then gave my neck a quick wash as I stood up.

‘Love you too Brutus’ I laughed and then closed his baby gate.

I sat down to drink my cup of tea and I could hear Brutus talking to his toys. He has such an imagination that I am surprised that he doesn’t have imaginary friends like I did as a child.

Turning round to see what he was doing, I could just make out him holding Tony Abbott and the penguin, talking in different voices to make them speak.

‘Tony, you are going to have to go in the fun run as you cant turn corners and you dont know when to stop – and Mum said you are a bit of a bastard’ Brutus said happily and then in the next second, made the squeaky penguin attack Tony Abbott and have a fight.

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Brutus and his favourite toys 

‘Do you think he will be OK?’ Rocky asked shaking his head in disbelief at such a dramatic scene.

I stared at Brutus who was now racing Tony and the penguin around his bed and laughed ‘Yep, I think he will be just fine’.

The End

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright October 2014

All photographs are copyright, please do not use without the consent of the photographer.

Thanks to Amy Joy for the use of her photographs.

https://www.facebook.com/PhotographyStudioJoy/timeline?ref=page_internal

Lure Coursing, breaking barriers and greyhound dramatics

10330344_10204119960096596_7112504982245364946_nThe 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.

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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 lifeguardBrutus the life saver (in his dreams)

(photo by Dee Cole)

10592950_10152334849148317_338218557600371576_nBrutus ‘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 superdogVader 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.

10551033_683596241728425_297137429613025875_nVader’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!’.

Vicki boxer

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.

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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. IMG_6577

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

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. Fletch

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

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

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. choir dog

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. Hannibal Rocco

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. 10369915_665925536828829_4846034155693857016_n

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). 10447056_663023523785697_7934537613617115507_n

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 Dee

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.

PennyPenny 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?’

Brutus and Vader

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 playing

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 fence breakerBrutus – 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 fence breaker Aug 2014Brutus (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.

Cloth dog Aug 2014The 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 snot Aug 2014Vader 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 2

‘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 Aug 2014

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 1 Aug 2014

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 fastestAbigail 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!’ Samoyed 2

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. MOT

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. Diana Anderson

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.Iggy race

 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 Dress Aug 2014

Bronte in her dress

(Photography by Studio Joy)PippinPippin 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.

Good boy

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 and 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

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. Abigail Xrays

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 recovery 2

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 Aug 2014Abigail – 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.