Dear Spellcheck 

Dear Spellcheck. We need to talk. As much as I am the first to admit my spelling skills are below par, we still need to talk. As much as I appreciate your assistance with my ortographobia, we still need to talk. 

I think that it is important for our future relationship. It think it’s important for the health of my phone, a phone that is not meant to be thrown at walls because of your inabilities Spellcheck. 

I can understand when you have issues with some of my Aussieisms (just like that one), I accept this. I can understand when you have issues with my Melisms, I accept this. I can understand when you have issues with my houndisms, I accept this. 

What I cannot understand and will not except is the fact you cannot or refuse to spell a 4 letter word. 1,2,3,4 – can it really be that hard?

For future reference :-

I don’t ever want someone to “duck off”, to “get ducked”, to “duck themselves”.  

I’m never calling someone a “mother ducker” nor a “duck face” and seriously no more “dumb ducks”. 

No more “duck yes” or “duck no” and certainly no “for ducks sake”. 

You can be certain I am never “ducking hot” or “ducking cold”. 

Just like I’ve never been “ducking furious at some duckwitt because they ducked me around and wasted my ducking time” 

I will give you that there may indeed be some dumb ducks, some mother ducks and some useless ducks – rest assured I’m a never referring to any of these. Just like when you correct to “duck duck duck duck” you can again be totally confident that I’m am not calling Donald or Daffy. 

If we can works together on this then great. If not then you can go get ducked!

I’ve grew up Aussie Style


I’ve grew up Aussie Style

I’ve grown up Aussie style, a sun-kissed Wheat-Bix kid,

I’ve played street cricket, broken windows and hid.

I’ve choked on a fly and still been a happy little Vegemite,

I’ve smiled even when the mozzies have started to bite.

I’ve swung from the Hills Hoist then ran from Mums smack,

I’ve learnt that a kid could starve if it wasn’t for Snack Pack.

I’ve made a meal of Nutri Grain and drunk Milk with a Tim-Tam straw,

I’ve lived through summers each hotter than the one before.

I’ve had beer for breakfast and had snag sangers for tea,

I’ve burnt my souls on sand and nearly drowned in the sea.

I travelled to places like Mullumbimby, Goondiwindi and Woolamaloo,

I’ve swatted at Louie and yes I have had a red back on my loo.

I’ve searched the summer night for sleep under a fan,

I’ve been as happy as a pig in shit and been not happy Jan.

I’ve seen the giants of my land, the prawn, banana and the sheep,

I’ve said “she’ll be right” just before I’ve landed in a huge shit heap.

I’ve Slip Slop and Slapped but I’ve forgotten the Aeroguard,

I’ve thrown another prawn on the barbie with mates in the backyard.

I’ve had a Gaytime, cracked a Cornetto and tried every Paddle Pop,

I’ve even had to chuck a sickie after a long night on the Passion Pop.

I’ve gone deaf from cicadas and dealt with the blue arsed fly,

I’ve eaten Pavs and Lammos and poured dead horse on top of a pie.

I’ve done some hard yakka and been flat out like a lizard drinking,

I’ve seen a bogan with a mullet and thought “what the hell was he thinking”.

I’ve said things like “ripper”, “bonza” and “fair suck of the saveloy”,

I’ve melted for day after day, to then greet a wild storm with joy.

I’ve mastered my rites of passage like the full pelt sprint in thongs,

I’ve danced to Acca-Dacca and know the words to John Farnham songs.

I’ve swum at pristine beaches and I’ve smelt eucalypt in the air,

I’ve danced the national dance the “hot sand shuffle” with flair.

I’ve peeled off my skin after long summer days under the sun,

I marvelled at our wildlife and from a few I have had to run.

I’ve grown up in the lucky country, lucky it is peaceful and free,

I’ve now have the great brown land deep inside of me.

I’ve stood for our National Anthem and I’ve screamed oi oi oi,

I’ve grown such pride for my country that nothing could destroy.

I’ve stood under the Southern Cross and been in awe of what I can see,

Cause I’m True Blue, I’m Dinky Di, I am 100 percent proud Aussie.


Mel Murray


I come from the Land Down Under – Husky Style


Running with my Wolluf Blondie

She is real big like a hippy Kombi

We took Reenah, but she is nervous

She’s jumps at any din but then goes fast


You see, we come from the land down under

With a bush full of native wonder

Some are near some a wander

You better run, better to discover


Running when we heard the Rustles

A kangaroo 6 foot four and full of muscles

Spring legs gave him the advantage

He disappeared like me with a vegemite sandwich


And I said we come from the land down under

Where the natives we plunder

Some are near some a wander

You better run, better to discover


Came across koalas along the way

Cranky buggers bite and they won’t play

I said my dino girls come follow me

Other animals next to chase a platy


And they say “A platy oh the wonder”

If it dives we will go under

That platypus will hear our thunder

But he dove too deep and he took cover


But we are living in the land down under

And there is plenty left to plunder

We see a bandicoot try to dig under

We all run but he’s taken cover


Living in the land down under

With my woman we will plunder

Nothing will stop us or take us under

We don’t run we don’t take cover


We are living in the land down under

With my woman we will plunder

What can I hear “shit it’s thunder”

Ok it’s time run and to take cover.

Max Woof


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.



A Sunburnt Country – Husky Style

A Husky’s rendition of Dorothea Mackellar’s poem – an Australian classic “I love a sunburnt country”.

I love a sunburnt country,

A land of endless games,

Chasing Roo’s over ranges,

Riding Goanna’s tied to reins,

I love Koalas on horizons,

Targets I can barely see,

I don’t wish to unleash terror,

It’s all about the chase for me,


The smell of a down under forest,

Even better under moon,

The climb to top of mountains,

That heat that hits at noon,

The lizards hiding in the bushes,

NOT the snakes that coil,

The Goanna’s in the tree-tops

I know one day will touch soil.


My Aussie heart – My country,

The earth and the sky

I’ve peed on everything around us

“MINE” where my pee does lie

Until those storm clouds deliver,

Then I’m off to scent again.

Coating the forest in Husky

My scent will remain.


Marrow to my bone – My country

Land of dogs young and old

For flies and fleas and sweating

She pays us back three fold-

Wallabies in the paddocks,

Goannas with their scales

Wombats down in the darkness

The chasing goes on for days


A dogs dream – My country,

A paradise at hand –

It you haven’t lived and loved her,

You just couldn’t understand –

So may trees – oh the splendour,

Wherever I choose to lie,

I know all over my sunburnt country

My Husky scent will fly.

Max – Aussie Aussie Aussie – woof woof woof


Aussie Husky 2.


A Husky’s letter to Irish Wolfhounds


To all of you Wolfhound’s that live with us smaller (but no lesser) breeds of dogs:

* We are not squeaky toys – yes we may be delightful to chew on and we may squeak when you squeeze us hard enough, but this is not a desirable noise to come from a dog!! (mum says cats too, but I cannot confirm this). For future squeaking reference – Squeaky Toy-YES = Dog-NO = Cat-MAYBE.

*Mum says just because your bigger you need more food, PHHFT, I have watched you for the past 12 months and you sleep more than you move, so what’s the need for all this food. You have the ability to reach the good stuff too, how about you start pushing some of it on the floor for us height impaired.

*Just because you CAN take up the entire lounge, does not mean you HAVE to. I am a Husky, not a Wolfhound pillow, or a floor rug. Move over Extendo Hound and share. This also goes for the car if I’m in the passenger seat in the front – I do NOT want to share it with you.

*When you decide to run, it wouldn’t hurt for you to look around first, I am NOT a launching ramp, nor a mini trampoline you can use to propel yourself higher!!!

*Your body slams are NOT appreciated nor are you foot slaps, and if you step on my foot one more time!!!!! I don’t know about you Wolluf but I like my spinal cord in one piece and I am rather partial to being able to feel my legs and feet.

* AND that ridiculous biting face you make when we play …….bwahaha……who do you think you going to scare with that.

*Yes I do like to play with you, I do not however appreciate looking like some creature from the drool lagoon afterwards. EWWWW if you must dribble, do it on the CAT!!!

*By the way the Jack Russell asked me to add that she does not appreciate being lifted into the air every time you sniff her butt.

*I watched a documentary on elephants with mum the other night…..if they can be so graceful then seriously what’s your problem?????

Mum said I had to finish on a nice note, so here goes – mmmm – thinking  mmmm. GOT IT – you are awesome when you are asleep.

Thanks for listening.

Maxwell the Husky Woof


She’ll be right Mate

assorted 001newest pictures 007Jul12197

So what do I love about my country?

I think it can be summed up in one phrase. My most favourite and my most hated common Australian phrase. “She’ll be right Mate!” – OH this one phrase can bring both terror and pride!

The terror can come when you are just about to try and do something extremely dangerous and you realise the equipment needed is gaff taped together. At this point you question your Mate (and the creator of said equipment) about the safety factor and their response – “She’ll be right Mate.” Or a different type of terror when your Mate decides that 20ltrs of fuel is perfect for starting a small bomb fire. You question the firelighter as to their heavy handed pouring of the fuel and their response “She’ll be right Mate!” When travelling and the car is making a horrendous noise and your travel companion says in all earnest “She’ll be right mate!” Every Aussie has heard this phrase just before a catastrophic fail, a trip to the emergency room, or just before a very expensive repair bill. So in all truth more often than not “She will NOT be right!!!”. But even when it’s all gone wrong and your sitting in the shit storm of your own creation. There will always be another Aussie around who will help you up and say – “she’ll be right mate!”

So how do you find pride in that same comment – EASY! That same lax attitude to danger, to safety, to life in general is the same thing that makes this country so peaceful and us Aussies so resilient. You lose a loved one and people will hold you and say with love “She’ll be right Mate!”. A bushfire can wipe out a whole town and the communities response to having to rebuild “She’ll be right Mate!”. You are at your worst in any situation and someone will say with the best part of their heart “She’ll be right mate!”

So I think this phrase sums up exactly what I love about being Aussie – oh and the Bluer than blue skies, white beaches, pristine forests and vast empty spaces make it pretty bloody great as well.

So be Aussie and take a risk “She’ll be right Mate!” and if you fail completely just remember “She’ll be right Mate!”

The Lonely Thong

The Lonely Thong!

While on a walk through the forest I came across a rare and sad natural phenomenon. This may be the first time it has ever been captured on film.

As I turned a corner I came across the carcass of a single thong. Now thongs are common in Australia, some would even say they are in plague proportions. The rarity was it was alone – thongs always travel in pairs. Not only do they pair for life, they wither and die without their mate. Thong rescue groups have tried to mix match pairs. The results have always been heartbreaking for both rescue worker and Thong.

On closer inspection I found that this poor lifeless thong, other than being dead, was in good shape. It’s sole still void of holes and it’s bands still attached. So it hadn’t died from an injury, it had sadly died from separation.

Where was its mate?!?!? Had they been separated by the flowing creek? One floating in one direction and it’s mate going in another. Was its mate grabbed by a koala to be used as a fly swatter? Had a one legged human found the perfect fit? Or was this scene the result of a lovers tiff gone horribly wrong?

I’ll never know but I hope this little Aussie treasure rests in peace and finds his mate in the afterlife. Where they can be together again and live out eternity as they were destined to be – a pair – THONGS!

Some of you may ask “how did I know it was dead?” Well you would never get that close to a live one.