Month: July 2016

I IZ GOAT

I IZ GOAT

I’m an asshole, yes I am,

Stole mums washing and away I ran.

I’m am asshole, yes I be,

Got on Mum’s bed and did a pee.

I’m an asshole, yes I was,

Why? I’m a goat, so just because.

I’m an asshole, here and now,

Your favourite plants I will plough.

I’m an asshole, now and then,

I fly through windows like a wren.

I’m an asshole for evermore,

Cause I IZ GOAT and I goat lots more in store.

Pippin Von Pip Pip

 

 

Left behind – But still lost

Left Behind – But still lost

I thought about writing something poignant about lost dreams, loves and aspirations but that’s not me and goes against the way I try to live my life. I strive to live in the now and to deal with the future if I’m lucky enough to get one. As far as the past, well there is stuff all I can do about that and if I didn’t learn from it at the time I’m not likely to now.

So yes, I have lost and learnt from it, I have given away and regretted it and I have had things taken from me that I ache to have back. But these times and events have all passed and the consequences have been lived. So dwelling to me is like trying to fix the hole in a sunken ship. You might get that hole repaired but the ships already sitting on the ocean floor.

When I chose to move to the country as a 22 year old, I was young and naive and had no real idea of the things I would be giving up. I soon learnt to live with a 80km round trip to the shops and 40 km round trip to get the mail. Couriers that refuse to deliver to my farm and blackouts that can last for days. That bushfires are part of summer life. That “she’ll be right mate”, will be used in business meetings and that a country clock has many more hours in a day than city a one does.

Hell I’ve even adapted to sharing my space with critters. Furry critters with bad attitudes, 8 legged critters the size of dinner plates and even legless ones that belong on the top 10 deadliest list. All of these I have happily excepted as part of country living and as part of the deal for having 30,000 acres of forest at my back door.

I have also accepted that country life does not come with the city’s access to the arts and culture. That a missing ingredient means a change in the menu. That internet speeds are slower than third world countries. That nothing is a simple trip and if you want it, you will have to order it online. I’ve even come to terms with the fact when I have to ring 000 I have to them give direction on how to find the front gate.

Life in the country is different, I’ve learnt to deal with it and I now embrace it. I am also human, so of course there is a loss that I cannot let go. A loss that was taken by this country living that I love so much. A memory that haunts my thoughts. It at times taunts me in my dreams. A treasurer I held in my hands that I gave away without realising the reach of its loss. A loss I still mourn for. A love that was stolen from me with a change of address. A yearning that I will forever want.

I’m not sure if I will ever come to term with it or be able to accept it. I may continue to mourn this loss until I breathe no more. So to you, one of life’s greatest gifts…to my lost love……Home Delivery – I miss you, I salute to you and I live in hope that one day you too can leave the city life and join us here in the country.

 

creek 008

The Assassin – The Hairbrush

Mighty Max here. I have been reading Mothers Face book and see that some of you think it is funny that I am cautiously concerned about the hairbrush. People your ability to find humour in such a dangerous situation shows me that you really do not understand the deathly plot the hairbrush is planning for us all. Including my Irish Woolly Mammoth Hound sister Keva. She has been taken in by its leg tap inducing spell on more than one occasion.

Now let’s get things straight and let me correct those of you that think I fear the Hairbrush. I am Max…Mighty Max I do not have fears. I scan the forest for danger, I eat goannas for breakfast and dingo’s for tea. I do not fear things……things fear me. So I do not fear the Hairbrush!! I just respectfully acknowledge the fact that it is a cold-blooded killer and unlike the goanna it has a brain to match its assassin skills. After years of biting the Brush and anyone stupid enough to conspire with it, I have realised that, like Mighty Max it too has super powers. But unlike me it harnesses them for evil.

So now I study the Brush, I watch its moves and I am always prepared for its next attack….and it will attack again! It will brainwash my poor mum into helping it wield its terror upon me. It will violently rip my fur (my glorious, glorious fur) from my body in an attempt to harness my super powers and use those or evil as well.

I have explained this to the oversized cloud dwelling Woolly Mammoth, but let face it she’s pretty – pretty dumb!!!

I mean if she can’t see that even its name is an acronym for its evil plot then I simply cannot help her.

 

High-Class

Assassin with

Insidious

Reasons for

Boldly

Ridding the

Universe of

Super-Hero

Huskies

Or for those Ladder Legs out there think Super-Sized Hounds.

Freaky I know……You have all been warned.

Max….Mighty Max….WOOF!

With or Without – Waking Up.

 

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.

Without

The sounds of bird singing in the forest stirs your senses. Eyes open slowly open as you have that first stretch of the morning. Tired eyes adjust to the light shining on a new day. A quiet five minutes to lay and think about the day ahead. Up and into it.

With

You have not woken by the Hounds designated time. She sits and waits….not patiently. The huffing commences, very long and dramatic huffs at 10 second intervals. Not awake yet? The shifty of the hound mass starts, 75 kilos now shifting on timber floors. The sound like a thunderstorm approaching, the windows shake along with the floors. Still not awake? A few more huffs placed between body shuffles.

Still not awake? She waits not longer, she thinks she is stealthy as she approaches. 75 kilos of klutziness with the breath of last night meal is about as stealthy as an earthquake in a sulphur mine. The face approaches, the whiskers and beard so close that they tickle your face. This tickle will be the only gentle part of this experience.

That moment your eyes open they meet the eyes of the Hound, that are now millimetres away from yours. “Hello your’re finally awake!”

While you have been sleeping for the past hour the Hound has been waiting. The Hounds internal spring has been winding and waiting, winding and waiting. The tension of the spring now at its maximum load capacity, waiting to uncoil the second your lids lift. It’s now that the Hypo Hound unleashes its catapult of love, instant full body contact between Hound and human. Waking up has never been filled with such pure love or such immense pain. Clobber paws slamming with the force of falling trees. The tongue connected to mass of love now coating you in a thick covering of wet admiration. Teeth chomping on arms, legs and any other body part that is lucky enough to be still attached.

Crying in pain will not help you, this will only make the Hound want to comfort you. I should add that being comforted by the Alarm Sledgehammer is no comfort at all. Those big chomps just get replaced with little “love nips”. Where she grabs just a tiny piece of flesh between her front teeth in an attempt to flea you. Because I do not have fur and also do not have fleas, this result in nips that don’t break the skin but feels like tendons should be hanging from a gaping hole.

Some may think this an exaggeration or even a bold faced lie. They have never been woken by an adoring Hound. In the 12 years I have been owned by Irish Wolfhounds this morning ritual has left me with several black eyes, split lips, claw marks that would put a lion trainer to shame and one morning that I will never forget that ended in the emergency room of the local hospital.

Would I swap if for a pain free awakening? Not for a million dollars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Walking a Furry Super Star

 

For those that have never been owned by an Irish Wolfhound it hard to understand the crowds they draw. A simple walk can turn into a production with you and your hound as the stars on a stage. I often feel like I have one of the Kardashians on the end of the lead.

Those that are owned by Hounds know all to well what it is like to walk a Super Star.

So what’s like to have a living legend at the end of your lead?  A lot like the following:

Ready to walk my Hound, walking shoes on, lead on, let’s go……….nope……..STOP.

“Yep she is big.”

“She’s an Irish Wolfhound.”

“She’s so-many years old.”

“Yes she eats a lot.”

“They are a very ancient breed with a colourful history.”

and of course” No she does not have a saddle.”

blah blah blah……

Those that don’t talk to you can be heard saying the following in distance

“Look at that dog!?!?!”, “OH MY GOD!! Did see the size of that thing?!?!?!?”

“Looks like a lama, alpaca, werewolf, bear, sheep, horse, Great Dane cross sheepdog.” Trust me I have heard all of these.

Most of this happens in the car park as you getting the Hound out of the car. A simple 30 minute walk on the beach now takes up to 2 hours. The walking is done is 10 step spurts, before the next curious person stops you to talk to your dog.

At times I have had long and in-depth conversation with people who otherwise would not give me a second glance.

I understand people’s amazement at this breed. I have shared my life and soul with 2 over the past 12 years and I am still amazed by them daily. I would also be the first to walk up to another Irish Wolfhound owner and start chatting. So I get it and I accept it. I’ve realised I don’t walk a dog, I walk a furry people magnet.

What I wonder is – do these Hounds search us out for this reason? To become their voices and in turn teach others about them as they teach us. Why us?

I’m generally quite shy, (for those that know me, stop laughing!) I can be outspoken online, after all I’m hiding behind a computer and no one would know me if they fell over me. But I’m the last person to want to be the centre of attention. Around my friends and family, sure I’m obnoxious, but around strangers completely different. But put my Hound beside me and I don’t mind the attention we draw.

Over the years I have had some amazing conversations with these curious strangers. I have been able to not only share my knowledge about this breed but I have also been able to bask in the spell these giants cast over everyone they meet.

I have been stopped by young and old, the upper class and the homeless. I have been asked by police officers if they can take a photo with them, Life Guards have lined up with my last girl to get photo’s in front of the Life Guard tower. Along with the family photos, kids and of course the tiny dog standing beside the giant shots. People I have never met before and will never meet again have my Hounds inside their family photo albums.

So it’s not just one group of people it’s EVERYONE that wants to share in the amazing grace of these animals. I live in a small country town, my vet has only ever treated a couple of other Wolfhounds besides mine in his twenty years, so I thought it was just a small town thing. NO, this phenomena is worldwide, similar stories from other Irish Wolfhound owners have echoed my own over and over again. These guys are furry Super Stars.

Don’t get me wrong, I have gritted my teeth on more than one occasion when some has asked “have ya got a saddle for that thing” Hence the reason I had a shirt made with “NOPE….No saddle!!” on the front. But overall I’ve learned to enjoy it and look at it like I am doing my bit for this breed by educating those not lucky enough to have met one before. Let alone have their world and heart turned upside down by one daily.

My last girl Moke could have her occasional “no strangers please” day, but usually only in summer and when it meant standing in the sun. Even then she was always gentle, she would just shove her head between my legs and give the stranger her bum as if to say “if you must pat me, please let me introduce my butt”. She would always let people hold her lead while I took a photo of them with her, but as soon as I handed back their camera she would be back by my side and ready to move on. So I think they get use to the attention and also truly enjoy their star status.

So as I start on another (hopefully) ten years with my Keva, I start at the beginning again

“Yes – she is big.”

“No – she’s just a puppy.”

“Yes – She will grow more.”

“She’s an Irish Wolfhound.”

and with great pleasure – “Yes you may pat her.”

I just go with the flow! Why not let the stranger standing before me share in the light these hounds radiate. I get my girl 24/7 whereas for these poor souls it may be the only Wolfhound encounter of their lives.

So to end, let me pose a question. What would happen if every person in the world owned a Irish Wolfhound? Would we all talk to each other? Would barriers forever be broken? Would class and stereotypes be no more? Would wars be ended? As I’ve talked with ALL, from Bikers to babies, Priests to the wild and spirited. I’ve shared stories with people of all races and faiths. I have laughed and spent hours at complete peace with these strangers that I will never see again. In fact if I added up the hours I speak to strangers about my dog would it be more than I speak to some family and friends??

So maybe we need to start a peaceful revolution (I know huge oxymoron there) and convince the world – “A Hound for every Man, Woman and Child!!!

Just a tasty bone for me

Just a tasty Bone for me

A King may want for his throne,

Me – I just want a tasty bone.

A Lord May want for his Lady,

With just a bone, I am happy.

A leader may want for his people,

I want a bone on which to dribble.

A doctor may want for the sick,

Just give me a bone, nice and thick.

A thief may want for a perfect crime,

I just want a bone to be all mine.

An artist may want for a muse,

Me, a bone will happily amuse.

A singer may want for a band,

I’m happy if I have a bone at hand.

A sailor may want for the sea,

A juicy bone will do little old me.

A poet may want for the perfect rhyme,

Just give me a bone at every mealtime.

Max Woof

 

 

Advice on a tiny card.

lily3 (2)

It hard to admit that the best piece of advice I’ve ever been given was on a tiny little gift card. It didn’t come from profound source like the teachings of Buddha or a great piece of literature. It didn’t come from a prophet, a genius or even a humans mouth.

Just a simple sentence on a gift card that gave me the motto for my new life. So what was this profound piece of advice that has driven me forward. The words that have given me such comfort over the past 15 years.

“Don’t cry because it’s over – Smile because it happened.”

Not that profound really, but the timing of reading this comment was everything.

I was 30 years old with my 7-year-old Sons arms wrapped tightly around my legs, when I was handed a bunch of flowers that held this little card. I will never forget reading those words, or the impact they had on me at this precise moment in my life.

This was not the first bunch of flowers or card that I’d been given that day. It was one of many, all with beautiful verses and heartfelt words written on them. At the time most of these cards I couldn’t even read, let alone digest the words.

These words were exactly what I needed at that precise moment in my life.  I sat and took them in. Never before this moment nor since then has a sentence affected me so deeply.

All the while I was taking this advice in, my sons arms were still wrapped around my legs. I realised in that moment that this was exactly what I needed to do. It was precisely how I needed to live my life from this moment forward.

So I bent down and kissed my boy on the forehead, picked him up in my arms. Together we walked up to my husbands coffin and placed that tiny little card deep into the Gymea Lily that sat in the centre. I turned and walked out of the chapel, eyes red and swollen but with my head held high.

15 years on I still “Smile because it happened”.

lilly (2)