-The Old Blue Dog-
Author unknown
Sunday, bloody Sunday, reflects Bluey sourly. Usually it’s a day of
joyous action, fishing and swimming with the kids down at the
waterhole, treeing the odd goanna or giving a bunny or two a run for
their money. Living it up!
Today
is not going to be like the other Sundays.He’s heard high pitched and
persistent complaints that indicates the kids are being washed and made
dress in their Sunday best, under close supervision and scrutiny.
Something is going on up at the homestead and here he is chained up for
the day so that he will be fresh for the muster tomorrow. He will be
running his legs off in the hot sun, swallowing dust galore and with
feet sore from bindieyes.
He is the best all-round sheep and
cattle dog in the district. Hard working and conscientious to a fault,
and what’s in it for him? Belted around, abused and half starved. Take
a look at the accommodation will you? A short section of hollow log for
a kennel. Big deal! In the summer it wouldn't throw enough shade for a
mozzie and in the winter the wind and rain howls through it like a
Wurlitzer.
The old corn sack he sleeps on is either wet or a
flea trap. He’d dig a hole under the log for some shade only he’s over
a network of bull ant tunnels.He’d be crazy to start anything there.
Still, to his credit, the ants clean up any left-over scraps which help
keep the flies away. The trouble is the ants don’t wait for the scraps
to be left over. At feeding time the ants are out in force and
completely ignore Bluey’s growls from the other end of the bone.
Bluey
is hot and thirsty, but the water in his old billy is almost on the
boil and half full of bull ants. The ants use it as a swimming pool,
floating happily around on their backs,looking up at the blue sky, just
waiting for Bluey to shove his nose in for a drink.Then they latch on
to his nose and use it as a fork-lift. They get a lift onto terra
firma, and by the time Bluey has shaken them off they have also taken a
hunk out of his nose to take home.
Every so often a movement of
the still, hot air wafts a faint odour of roast turkey in Bluey's
direction. There is some thing special on at the homestead. He knows
from the howls of protest from the kids that they have been made to
wash and change their clothes. Obviously there is some VIP coming to
dinner and the excitement is mounting.
Bluey switches 'round to
get a better look at the proceedings. All Bluey's fleas, formerly in
the shade, are now exposed to the sun. They make a mass exodus for thee
shadier side and all is forgotten as Bluey bites, thumps and scratches
until peace is restored. What luck! Somehow in his frantic scratching
he has unhooked the catch on his collar. He's Free !!!
THere is
even greater excitement over at the homestead. The new parson has
arrived, making his first call to all his country parishoners. He hopes
the food is better than the accommodation as he is usherd into the
rough bush hut with its earthern floor, a mixture of antbed and cow
dung, and apparently fairly recently laid, if his nose is not wrong!
And
now is the time for Bluey to make his move. In the general excitement
he slips into the hut and insinuates himself between the Parson's legs
- a good strategic position with less likelihood of being booted
outside. It is obvious from the codiality accorded the Parson that he
is really family. He belongs.In Bluey's simple mind, humans are just
two-legged variations of the dog family, only there smarter than the
average dog. The Boss is the undisputed leader of the pack, next comes
the missus and kids, and apparently high on the list of grudgingly
tolerated outsiders is the Parson.
So, more to show that he is
accepted into the pack than anything else, Bluey lifts a leg and
christens the Parson's pants. Just a short token burst, but Bluey never
finished the project. Next moment he is airborne, on the toe of the
boss's boot,on a collision course with the door post. It took little
effort on Bluey's part to maintain the same rate of speed into the
nearest timber.
Bluey feels there is no percentage in hanging
around, so he makes his way down to the remains of the dead kangaroo
which is not all that hard to find, as it has been there for a long
time and has reached the right stage of epicurean perfection. He
deliciously savours its rich full flavour - and then rolls in it.
By
the time Bluey gets back to the house, everybody is settled around the
festive board and wiring into roast turkey and all the trimmings.Bluey
picks his moment and slips in under the table again.He rubs up against
the Parson's leg just to let him know that his new found buddy is down
there and would appreciate an odd scrap or two of turkey. The Parson
gives Bluey a nervous pat which might have been interpreted by a more
sensitive dog as "p.. off". Bluey promptly licks the hand that spurns
him and passionately gazes into the Parson's eyes.What an actor !!
At
this moment the full impact of the dead kangaroo aroma that Bluey is
wearing hits everyone at once.The boss was the first to react.His
hob-nailed boot lashes a wild haymaker. This is fielded neatly on the
shin by the Parson>Bluey's mad dash for the door is just ahead of a
saucepan load of boiled potatoes.
Using the woodheap as cover,
Bluey scuttles in under the Parson's car. Later, when things quieten
down a bit, Bluey crawls to the Parson's car and curls up on the back
floor and sleeps it off.
The Parson can't cut his visit short
enough, and after the goodbyes climbs aboard his jalopy and thankfully
puts a few spedy miles between himself and that unforgettable dog, even
at the risk of broken springs on that unbelieable rough road. However,
distance does nothing to ease the memory of that overpowering dead
kangaroo. If anything, it seems more pungent.
A muffled sound
behind him caused the Parson to turn briefly to look into the
expressive eyes of Bluey, that said only to plainly, "I've just been
sick".
Whether the road was too rough or the 'roo to rich, or it
was a combination of both, Bluey never waited to explain, for when the
car stopped Bluey took off, and for a dog not feeling the best, he made
remarkable time back home.
At last, making himself as
inconspicuous as possible, and giving the house a wide berth, Bluey is
right back where he started from. His jaded eyes took in the familiar
scene - The sawn off hollow log, the water billy, the bull ants, the
old chaff bag and the chain. It's not much, he thought, but it's home.
