Aussie Dog’s Pee with Flair


A Husky’s take on the Australian National Anthem.

Aussie Dog hear my voice

for we all need to pee

We’ve golden oil to release on soil

to make our yellow sea

Our land abounds in many sniffs

Of bats and birds and bear

In histories page – dogs at every stage

Aussie dogs pee with flair

Yellow streams, Let us sing

Aussie dog pee with flair


We pee beneath our Southern Cross

We soil across this land

To make this country of ours

Scented best of all the lands

For all those dog across the sea

We’ve boundless trees to share

The scent of many can combine

And we will teach you to pee with flair

Making yellow streams, let us sing

Us Ocker dogs pee with flair

Max Woof 


Irish Wolfhound and Child

Sometimes a photo alone can tell a story all by itself. This image jumps off the page, a tiny little girl with a huge dog. You can see the gentleness in the hound and the calmness in the child. What you cannot see is the full story.

This gorgeous little girl is Tamzin, a very dear friend of mines daughters. Tamzin was 2.5 years old when these photos were taken. Even so young Tammy had had a bad experience with a dog and as result was petrified of all dogs. And I mean petrified!!!!

When she would come to my house the screaming would start as they pulled up. Moke (the Irish Wolfhound) would bound up to the car as she loved cars, they might just have snacks in them. Moke would shove her head in the window to say a big happy hello and poor Tamzin would nearly die of fear. Guttural screams and a look of pure terror that can only appear on a face that is reliving a horrible experience. Poor Moke would be shattered – “What?! I’m a love bug and just want to cuddle with you and maybe eat anything might drop.”

This went on every time they would visit and Tamzin would come inside and away from the dogs. Of course my husky Max walking up and Barking “G’day” as loud as he could directly into Tammy’s face never really helped with this.

One day Sophie (Tamzin’s Mum) and myself took Tamzin outside. Of course Moke wanted to say hi the way Wolfhound’s do – with their whiskers touching the face of the person they are greeting. Screams of pure horror – a little body stiff with fear. Heart wrenching for a dog that just wanted to everyone’s friend. Moke was soul destroyed every time Tamzin would scream – it was like she knew Tammy was afraid and she was trying to reassure her that she was ok.

So I had an idea. Tamzin loved picking flowers in my garden so we went and picked heaps of tiny flowers. Then I got Moke to lay down and asked Tamzin to help me decorate Moke, we sat and put flowers all over her. I told Tamzin that she had to pat the flowers down so they would stay in Moke’s coat. So this little girl that was so full of terror started to put the flowers on Moke and was patting them down as she went. We did this for a while, Moke laying still and looking adoringly at Tamzin the entire time. Not once did Moke try and paw her or face nudge her or any of the other wonderful greeting she would give my friends that had no fear. After a while I pointed out to Tamzin that she was patting Moke every time she put a flower onto her. Tamzin kept on going, even continuing when Moke finally stood up.

This did not magically dissolve the fear that was implanted in Tamzin mind but by the end of that visit she had patted Moke. Now for an adult that’s kinda brave but for a child that’s eye height is lower than the dog – it showed remarkable courage.

With each visit after that the screaming lessoned until it stopped. Tamzin was five when Moke passed away. By the time Moke’s life came to an end Tamzin was be able to get out the car and put her hand up and say “Stop Moke” and would give her a pat. Tamzin never fawned over Moke nor did they become besties but she no longer screamed like she was about to be eaten and could give Moke a pat without fear.

Max to this day will still scare the bejesues out of Tamzin with his hello bark but she now tells Max be quiet and go away.No longer does she look like Freddy Kruger is coming to give her a kiss.

Of course Moke passed and along came Keva – and we are back to the start of Tamzin and her making friends. She’s much braver with Keva – one of the many gifts that Moke has given the Diva without her even knowing.

Moke was amazing in so many ways like so many hounds – but she had a gift of knowing when she needed to be softer, calmer. She left many an imprint on people’s lives not just mine. Tamzin probably wont remember Moke when she’s all grown up – or the lesson that Moke taught. And that is perfectly ok because some things don’t need to be remembered as they become part of you. All I know that a little tiny piece of my Moke honour is inside Tamzin spirit – even if Tamzin has no idea.

With or Without a Wolfhound -A Nights Sleep

What’s it like to live with a dog that outweighs you by 25 kilos? At times extremely funny. My “With or Without” series takes a look at life from both sides. “Without” may be more peaceful but I wouldn’t swap “With” for a second.


A bitterly cold winters night – the best kind of night to jump into a warm bed. Only better with the smell of crisp clean sheets. That initial cold as you jump in, then that wonderful feeling of the bed warming to your bodies temperature. Now so warm that your foot searches for the cold untouched part of the bed and relishes the cool change. The pillows fluffed and placed in perfect order. AHHHHHH that final stretch of the day. The one where tired limbs get to release the days hard work. Time for the body and mind to rest and recharge for the next day.

WITH Cold bitter night – the kind that makes the dew form on the grass. Making the hounds feet wet and covered in dirt that she can wipe on your fresh clean sheets, as she’s pushing you over like some poor squeaky that is in her way. The bed is still cold because it is now wet!!! The warmth tonight is going to come from the breath blowing on your head and neck as the Hound snores blissfully beside you. Now this Hound has to be as close as woldhoundly possible, so that you can feel their heart beating through their thick coat. The heat of the Hound’s body pressed against your makes your foot move in search of that cold spot. The movement in the bed awakens Slumber Hound and she turns into attack puppy that launches at your foot trying to rip it from your leg. Your pillows – just forget the pillows – it’s easier that way. You lay there desperately trying to get to sleep, just as princess has her first dream of the evening. Oh no – it’s a chase dream, you once level bed now lurching back and forth with the motion of the hound running at full speed in her sleep. Dream over – the snoring starts back up, the desperate bid to fall asleep start again. OH and your final stretch for the day – if you can stretch with 75 kilos firmly planted on your chest and hips – you’re doing better than me. Now to try and get to sleep over the snoring, drooling and violent dream movements and while trying to find a bit of room next to the T-Rex Hound that is sharing your bed.

The Hitory of the Irish Wolfhound – Part two


After writing part one I had a few comments from people pointing out that the hunt/protect instinct was still very much part of the this breed, and that this should not be forgotten. I totally agree, but when I wrote the first piece I was trying more to point out the vast difference between the lives they lead now to the ones their ancestors did so long ago. I should have better pointed out I wasn’t saying “walk beside” was the only or maybe even the strongest characteristic they carried over. But the thing that drew us to them and made us love and honour them just like our ancestors did before us.

Most Irish Wolfhound owners do not hunt with their dogs, let alone walk beside them to war. So many hounds live with the very animals they once saw as prey. These modern hounds sleep beside cats, rabbits, goats and dare I say us humans that they once also killed with ease. Fortunately we share with those men and women of generations long gone the loyalty of the hound, a loyalty that is unwavering and undying. A loyalty – I truly believe is like no other. So basically I was looking for the thing that not only connected them to their pass – but also us to our own.

I would never want to take anything away from this breed but I was cautious to not to focus on the killer within. I have read peoples horrified reactions at using these dogs for hunting and the negative aspects of voicing aloud their “other side”. I also agree that these are things that first time Irish Wolfhound owner’s should be aware of. That yes they are gentle, yes they are great with kids. They are also strong powerful animals, that at times can be incredibly head strong and if not trained and controlled properly could walk all over you. I suppose only a responsible owners will do the proper research pre purchase anyway and hopefully make their own informed decision. I was also hesitant to speak aloud about the Devil the lies beneath, because I see daily how incredibly gentle they can be and I would hate if something I’d written led anyone to think this breed is vicious. Too many breeds of dogs are attached forever to their vicious pasts and therefore will always be seen by the ignorant as something to fear.

So have I seen my hounds attack or kill in hunt? My last girl Moke was never really a hunter but she loved the chase. As I live on property we get lots of kangaroos and she would chase with zealous as far as the fence. She never really liked bending down to get under fences, so the chase ended there. But she was an amazing protector, I live alone on my property and occasionally get strangers turn up lost. Moke was always friendly but she would never let any of these surprise callers get close to me. She would circle them and give them a gentle shove backwards, then circle and push again til they were a good distance from me. She was never taught this, her instinct to protect took over. The one time she was really put to the test I saw a side of her that made my blood run cold. I’m not going to go into details, but the instinct to take man from a horse was quickly adapted into pulling one from a motorbike. After it was over, back bounded my big marshmallow so full of love. She slept on my bed that night something she only did a few times in her ten years.

My girl current love, Keva is only 23 months old and I have already see the hunter in her eyes. Her instinct to chase and pin was evident when she galloped after a baby kangaroo a while back. She caught and pinned it down but wasn’t really sure what to do, this gave the kangaroo a chance to get away. But I’m sure that kangaroo saw the same look in Keva’s eyes that many a dying soldiers saw all those years ago.

I can see and appreciate these qualities as well, after all dogs will be dogs even if we dress them up in costumes.

So I hope we will never forget or take for granted that the hounds we love so much were seen as the enemy by soldiers and with good reason. They dragged them from their horses and tore them limb from limb. There are even tales of Christians being fed to them. Do I want these to be the traits and stories that connects our Hounds both past and present as one – Never!!!But this is only just my thought – not right – not wrong – just mine!

As I’ve seen first hand the split second change a hound can make from the gentle giants of today into the Dreadful Cerberus of their past – I would always want to share with people the side that comes running back to you as calm as they were before the storm.


History of the Irish Wolfhound – Part one


Sometimes I question the history of the Irish Wolfhound and the past lives these gentle giants lived. Not wether this history is true…. but as I watch my Keva, sound asleep on a leather lounge with blanket and a teddy, I can’t help but laugh at the thought of her living the life of her ancient ancestors.

The Irish Wolfhounds of generations long passed, were used as war dogs, guards of Kings and castles. They hunted deer, boar and wolves with prowess. As they marched beside warriors to war, legends were made by the fact they could kill more men than the soldiers that fought beside them. They wandered the halls of Castle’s and protected their masters kingdoms in a time so much harsher than our own. They worked beside shepherds in the field, sleeping under the stars and like an assassin killing any threat to the herd. They took down fully gown deer and wild ox with ease, an amazing feat of strength and cunning.

These dog of older times where strong and regal, and dare I say ferocious. Their skill to kill both man and beast bred deep into their bloodline. This brings me back to a sleeping Keva, no killer, no hunter – instead my fur baby, my soul mate, my love. Yes she is strong and of course I think she is regal, but a ferocious warrior that would be at home in a battle….I think not.

So in the year 2016 the mighty Irish Wolfhound no longer marches beside warriors to war, now they sit in the passenger seat of cars and travel in style. No more sleeping on hard castle floors or under the stars, as they now sleep on beds so soft the kings of olden times would have been jealous. The days of running down wolves and bleeding them out has been replaced with the torture of squeaky toys and maybe the occasional squirrel. The chase of prey so fast and wild that even the longest limbs were tested, has become the trot after a ball and to be honest most won’t even do that.

These modern hounds live all around the world, living lives so rich and varied – so different from their ancestors. They have mastered our modern ways like pros, eating and sleeping like kings and queens. They play not fight – they love not kill. Some eat whipped cream from cans, some have fan clubs all of their own and some sleep with pigs…stuffed of course. Yet they all remain Hound strong!

So as I look at my own girl so soft, so sweet, I wonder about the changes these hounds have gone through to take them from beasts so fierce into the gentle giants of today. What quality could be so strong that it remains after so many generations? What quality ties our “fur babies” back to the mighty warriors in their family trees. I thought about the many articles I have read and the diaries of men who honoured these hounds in a time before my country was even discovered. Then it came to me “walk beside”. This simple phrase “walk beside” was in all of these stories, over and over this phrase kept leaping from the page. They walked beside the warriors to war, walked beside the shepherds as they tended their herd, walked beside kings and queens as they walked their courts of yesteryear. So this ancient breed’s true destiny has never really been lost just modified to suit a modern time. Where countless generations later they still “walk beside” their masters as their ancestors did before them.

And what an honour it is to have a Irish Wolfhound choose you, to walk beside.

Just a thought…….

Ooooooh She smells so good


Always a squeeze

OH she smells soooooo good

When a proud Husky is reduced to the lowest of low. Overpowered by the scent of his huge little sister Keva the Diva (the Irish Wolfhound) while she is in season. Max the Husky’s thoughts cover the days he was held prisoner by the scent of love.


Mum why did you take my balls away

I wish safe inside my sack they did stay

The Diva’s just smelling so damn good

Like the best that any kind of smell could

It smells that bloody great I cannot think

My poetry has even gone on the blink

Waterfall, ferrets and a red wind up train

I cannot centre I’m going flipping insane

Bubbles, cantaloupe and a hole – it’s a well

Nature why make me still react to this smell

I want to ignore it so bad and just walk away

But the divine sweet sniffs makes me stay

She is annoying, lanky and really just a pest

But for now I’m in love – nothing will contest

I will follow and protect her as – SHE’S MINE

Dare to touch her and I’ll go off like a land mine

I will drool, lick, swoon and kiss her pretty face

But don’t dare think about trying to take my place

Then when it’s all over I will simply walk away

And I’ll even ignore her when she wants to play.

Max Sniff Sniff WOOF SNIFFF!!!!!


If my brain hadn’t completely gone to mash

My poetry skill and prowess would totally thrash

At present I’m struggling remembering my name

My mind is locked onto the one and only game

I may being lacking the balls to go with my bat

But that won’t see me defeated and throw in the hat

I’m pig headed, determined and maybe a little brainless

But smelling that sweet smell makes everything painless

So try I will, I won’t let a couple of snips stand in my way

I may not be successful but hell I’ll have fun and fill my day

I just need to come up with a plan – if only my brain could think

Hippos, waterfalls, big red poppies oh and the kitchen sink

Diva, sniff, rainbows, bats and balls, snip snip, jack frost

OMG – my quick wit – my wise thoughts- my poetry are totally lost

See what I mean, that perfume has reduced my brain to a pea

Oh Diva my darling my sweetness – my little Mon Cheri

Where there’s a will there has to be a way – balls or not

If I’m going to be brainless I may as well give it a shot


Just so you know us Huskies never say die

We keep on going we try and try and try

Blank shots maybe the only thing I can give

But ya gotta give it a shot – you gotta live

Baboon, stag, boar, or bull – we are all male

Balls or not that sweet smell don’t go stale

If I can wait for a goanna to come out of a tree

I’ll give this the same shot you wait and see

Oh that smell has wafted up my nostril again

My thoughts – lollipops, canoes, carrot, Penguin


I’ve been reduced to an idiot and a total fool

Howling at the moon while my lips do drool

I’m normally the one covered in Diva’s slobber mess

She can handle some of mine – that’s my guess

I know she’s loving the attention she’s tasting

She’s usually the one doing the all the chasing

Even if I can’t finish what I started – I intend to begin

If by luck I do – In South Africa they will hear me sing


 Even if I have no dangleberries in my purse

I’m a long way off being in the back of a hearse

Pickles, sunflowers – I’ll give this my best shot

Rodeo, sandpit – OH crap I’ve lost the plot

I’m gonna have to try a get this job done

Before my brain melts and starts to run

Turkey, oatmeal – Time to swoon my Mon Cheri

Sniff sniff oh that scent – Yip yip YIPEEEEEEEE


I cannot be held responsible for what I say

My brain gone, left, it just went away

Give Up? That would be like admitting defeat

I will be young and feisty till I fall in a heap

Brawn and youth I will continue to seek

I won’t grow up and I will never be meek

Oh no the Diva has moved and so did the sniff

Ooooo Baby come closer and give me a whiff

The brain is going – tick tick – to late it’s blown

Right out of my left ear – like the coup it’s flown

Rainbows and cherries – a Sulphur Crested cockatoo

Hey sweet baby, let me sing my love song to you



I’m finally free from the overpowering scent of heat

My brain is back – yep Max is back and ready to compete

Even with my mighty strength and superior intelligence

Both are gone out the window with that bloody fragrance

I’m still embarrassed that I found the Diva so delectable

That I tried to romance her – the thought – bloody awful

Well now it’s over I can go back to what I was made to do

Pee on trees, chase big scary goannas and tasty kangaroo

The critters that have lived in peace for the last two weeks

Are about to meet Husky full throttle as my power peaks

I have a forest to reclaim and natives to scare back up trees

Of course the Diva is begging for attention on bended knees

I told her it’s over and she’s back to being my annoying little sis

That I’ll play on my terms again and to get over being a spoilt miss

I have shit to do a places to be – no time for puppy play today

If she’s lucky I’ll give her a nip and shove when she gets in my way

Don’t feel sorry for the Dino Hound she has made my last seven days hell

I intend to enjoy my release from the prison of that “in season” smell.


A Husky from the land down under


I am Max – A Husky from the land way Down Under,

Where the wildlife’s strange and makes ya wonder.

We have a couple of mammals that oddly lay eggs,

A National Bird that does not fly and has long legs.

We even have mammal with a big bill like duck,

And a poisonous spur which you should always duck.

There’s all shapes and sizes of bouncy kangaroos,

and flocks and flocks of ear piercing cockatoos.

But none of these wonders really take my fancy,

It’s just Gus the goanna – that big scaly Nancy.

I don’t hassle the wildlife that’s cute and cuddly,

But those slimy reptiles I wanna make bloody.

You see I want revenge for the blood they’ve taken,

And maybe make some delicious smoked goanna bacon.

Some of you might think this Aussie Husky’s a bit strange,

That’s just how I roll the dice and I’m not about to change.

The land down –  A land already the wrong way around,

That geographic fact on it’s own should really astound.

If this upside down fact is indeed correct and true,

Then those goanna’s way up in the trees must use glue.

if we are upside down then shouldn’t they indeed fall?

Heading back down to the ground just like a thrown ball.

So as a Aussie Husky I have to commit to remain True Blue.

And goanna chasing is my sport and something I have to do.

To others – crazy – but in my country I’m just a local boy,

Who can see a five foot lizard as the perfect chew toy.

So my new Mates I hope I’ve made you understand,

Aussie dogs have to adjust to this great brown land.



With or Without a Wolfhound -Dinner

What’s it like to live with a dog that outweighs you??  At times extremely funny. My “With or Without” series takes a look at life from both sides. “Without” may be more peaceful but I wouldn’t swap “With” for a second.


You work hard all day and earn a hunger that only physical labour can create. You take the time to prepare the ingredients and use them to create your favourite dish. You enjoy the process of turning raw ingredients into a meal just to your liking. A feast prepared and on the plate – hunger soon to be satisfied. Sitting down and eagerly awaiting that first taste – the best taste of any meal. As you take that mouthful the world floats away as you enjoy the flavours dancing across your taste buds. Each mouthful working together to fill the need – yet being enjoyed individually. Ahhhh full belly.

The preparation starts – the wet nose appears on the bench, the condensation ring growing with every breath. Then the shoving and head butting begins you now cook like you are performing an act in circus de soleil. Juggling raw ingredients, removing counter surfing noses, and catching the things that are being knocked off the counter while your back is turned. The ingredients now lucky if they make it into the pot as you are reduced to throwing them over the Hounds head and snapping teeth. The meal no longer cooked to perfection but bubbling and intermittently blowing smoke rings from its centre. Why would you let you meal just burn?? Because you were sidetracked getting the hairy Sous chef something to eat so she leaves you alone. You serve your sad offering to the coal gods and kid yourself that you’re going to get to eat it. Sitting ready to eat – the nose appears at the edge of your plate and the drooling commences. The first and every mouthful after that is eaten between dodging a huge hairy head that is now mirroring you every move. In a desperate attempt to ingest just a few singed calories you start scoffing your food so fast that instead of savouring the individual tastes, you are left with heart burn. Such extreme heat burn you fall to the floor grasping your chest thinking you are dying of heart attack. The Hound sitting beside it’s owner worried for your fate??? Nope busily licking your plate clean.





With or Without a Hound -A Kiss

What’s it like to live with a dog that outweighs you, at times extremely funny. My “With or Without” series takes a look at life from both sides. “Without” may be more peaceful but I wouldn’t swap “With” for a second.


A kiss – defined in the dictionary as a “touch or caress with the lips as a sign of love”. It can be a mirror to so many emotions from a quick peck, to a lasting moment filled with passion.


The Hound kiss has only one speed and only one emotion – ALL IN!!! No gentle lean in, no peck, no hesitation – ALL IN!!! The force of the tongue hits with full unrelenting power, a wetness like no other. The precision like some new age heat seeking missile – it never misses it mark. If your tonsils anodes or ear canals where feeling lonely – not now. The force only matched by the love being delivered. The eyes says it all “Let me lick your innards”. You are left feeling loved for sure – but also in need of a bath and wondering if the boundaries of a human-animal relationship has just been crossed.


With or Without a Wolfhound – Bush Walk

What’s it like to live with a dog that outweighs you, at times extremely funny. My “with or without” series takes a look at life from both sides. “Without” may be more peaceful but I wouldn’t swap “with” for a second.


You put your shoes on – while tying the laces you contemplate your journey. You walk into the forest the sounds of your footsteps the only foreign noise. The songs of birds singing, some loud and obnoxious, some sweet and barely audible. As you walk the sounds of tiny lizards running through the leaf litter can be heard as clear as a bell. The endless shades of green, from the grass on the forest floor to the leaves in the highest tree tops. The sounds of those greens blowing in the breeze, allowing you to hear the sound of the wind getting closer and closer as it blows towards you through the forest. Stepping under and over the foliage – no sign of your path when you turn back. The many mini ecosystems your walk past, stopping and looking in like some giant from another world. The peace, the quiet, the serenity that only nature can deliver.


You touch your walking shoes – now you have a 75 kilos singing, dancing bigfoot in front of you. Tying your shoe laces now becomes a harder journey than most marathons. Tongue licking, paws clobber pawing, all 26 bones in your foot are now starting to crack under the pressure of a hound paw. The walk, or now limp starts. You no longer walk into the forest – you arrive – as you’ve just been dragged from the car to the trail but a over excited canine horse. The sounds of birds fleeing on mass can be heard as the clobber paws takes out the first tree. The lizards that flee now have a bulldozer cleaning a path behind them. The endless green no longer blows gently with the breeze it slams back and forth as the Hound stomps its way through. The sounds of the breeze replaced with the sound of pounding paws, falling trees and the relentless heaving breathing that could be heard over a cyclone. No longer stepping under and over foliage but being dragged directly through it. Collecting leaves, twigs and lantana scratches as you go. The many mini ecosystems now in ruins – tiny little creatures looking up at the Godzilla Hound in horror. The Godzilla Hound oblivious is happily bouncing on top the next tiny civilisation. You turn to walk back and there is now a 3 lane highway you hound has cleared. Instead of enjoying what nature has to offer you are left wondering if you should have an environmental impact study done on your dog.