Last full day of this leg

Due to fact that Dad had already done his best David Lynch on the early morning glittering leaves the previous day, and now the background (our previous frisbee field) was full of kennels carrying large noisy Bogunvillious and their matching hounds we all stayed in bed whilst the glittering reflections danced a merry jig on the ceiling inside the master bedroom.

Last chance to sleep in - catch 'em whilst you can. Eventually they emerged into the grand hallway as I stood pointedly at the front entrance indicating my desire to partake in the use of the outside facilities. Once there (and thus relieved) we sat on the deck under the pergola and watched action below through the still shimmering trees. The weird barrel on a trailer was still parked there, yet in the early morning soberness the alpha males below didn't seem that keen to go inside, sweat their pores out from the steam driven wood fired heater and then emerge, two steps taken to then totally immerse into the cold waters of the bubbling creek. Soft when sober so it seams. I would do it -  apparently though you need to take your fur coat off before going in. We talked it through (Dad and I) and figured the logistics would be too difficult - two coats can have it's disadvantages.

It's taken all week for the weather to prove it can actually make the place pleasant and as such we made the most of it. First up was a wander into town where I got to check out who'd been bold enough to pee over the top of my last deposits. Layers we call them. We can effectively see them with our heightened sense of smell, coming into clearer focus as we sniff longer and more thoroughly around the same place. Exploring the nuances of the physical nature of the depositor (e.g. gender, age, weight, breed, diet, overall heath, wealth, bogun ranking, what they were thinking at the time, were they in a hurry, impressions on this particular spot to pee on, voting traits, impressions of shows like Muster Dogs etc. etc. It's all there - we just need time to take in all the layers and thus..."OH FOR GODS SAKE TAI! - COME ON"...) a yank on the lead and the layers snap away until the next post where they reset and we go again. Always in hurry my parents.. Caffeine awaits.

Today's cafe stop under the table was pretty restricted due to the narrow pathway and the popularity of the place. If the lady who hates dogs (because she can't avoid stepping on their poops) was there today she wasn't noticed as there were a plethora of real dog liking people who fell for my ears folded back routine and thus fell in love with me and let me lick there offered hands - seriously Dad - they offer them - what do you expect me to do? Dad and I spent at least an hour sitting there whilst Mum did her phaffing thing in and out of the shop. Eventually she re-appeared and said we should go home as she wanted to do more phaffing across the road. Yay - I got to get off the cold pavement and check out all those peeing spots on the way back to the kennel (well you never know who's been past in the last hour and there's all these "layers" that I need to delve into ......"OH FOR GODS SAKE TAI! - COME ON"...)...Once home I hung around the front watching for Mum to come back - just to make sure she was carrying something that made the phaff worthwhile (she was).

We then mounted the patiently waiting beast at the front of the kennel and headed up the creek (I guess the engine was the paddle) to a place called Wandiligong. As a dog, this name means nothing to me, so I'm not even sure why I even bothered to get the spelling right, however we did have a fabulous time at a place there called 5 Acres Bar and Kitchen. I think it was the "Bar and Kitchen" bit that enticed the folks there. It was possibly the highlight of the week - with weather finally getting tired of flipping it's middle finger at us, we had a great time relaxing in their extensive gardens as Mum and Dad were really impressed with the quality of the scrumptious fares.  A relatively expensive lunch but really worth it. Mum reckons it was great because she chose the items off the menu. Dad reckons it was great because he had the idea and drove us there. I reckon it was great because the grass to sit on was comfortable and tasty - we had chosen a great spot amidst a plethora of choices - extensive and well kept gardens with tables, chairs, lounges, etc etc. that cater for all types of patrons - even dogs.

Dad posed the question of how much land the establishment actually took up in the middle of the extremely picturesque valley? what with it's rushing creek weaving it's way through lush fields, defined by the glowing deciduous trees, a lazy bike track snaking it's way along it, the steep hills, some being seemingly shaved like a business mans face as the pine plantations are cleared off them, seriously dangerous looking steep dirt tracks going up within them, the bright blue sky casting a serene light in from seemingly all angles, the clean crisp air with the ever present hint of eucalyptus always embedded within it. The Olde' worlde' township which was born in depths of colonialism history presenting that charm which can only make one feel wonder and comfort that all is good with the world. The clean smooth roads that made the journey within a joy to behold. I could go on however, as it transpires the answer was... 5 acres. Go figure.

The short trip back to the kennel then saw us all head off down the rail trail, them on their fold-ups and me on my paws. We were heading down towards Pawpunka where had we have done the whole trip I reckon I could've come up with a really clever dog related name twisting pun just on the name alone, however I never got the chance because all Dad wanted to do was show Mum the flowering trees over the trail that were still in the local locale. Thus this pic.

When we got back I was obviously exhausted as I'd just ran about 5kms. Dad took me down to the creek with the obvious intention to get me washed in the creek. I was worn out but always up for a challenge when there is a ball involved. So I got wet. And made damn sure he did too. Creeks are great - just like the stairs at the home kennel. Drop the ball and it inevitably rolls back to them. I don't understand how it works I just know it does.

If he actually threw it downstream I reckon I'd just look at him incredulously projecting "I trust you have another ball". Eventually he gave up trying to tell me what to do because I couldn't be bothered showing too much enthusiasm in chasing a ball downstream that he was gong to eventually collect anyway. So we went back to the kennel on the bank.

Mum wanted to relax a bit and read and Dad said he wanted to ride further up the creek. Suspect the lunch got to him as instead he snoozed a bit in the living room (on the lounge) and eventually succumb to the lunchtime pale ale and reverted to the master bedroom to snooze his way through the warm afternoon bliss with me in harmony on my luxurious pad located in the main hallway some distance away.

Recovering from our restful kip - we dressed up (well they did - I'm hygienic enough naturally not to actually have to deal with changing garments - I'd already groomed myself during the kip). And we wandered back down the creekside to another eatery where I got to yet again sit under a table whilst they consumed their fine wares (pizza, salad and vino) above. Afterwards we stopped by the creek again where they threw sticks into the water and I dutifully jumped in, grabbed them off the top of the water and them dropped them again to wonder why they would drift away in a direction not aligned to my parents position. Weird. That's not what's meant to happen.

Anyway, back at the kennel I could sense a tidy up happening- apparently it all comes to an end tomorrow, however Dad finally started to break the park rules with me off the lead and was throwing the frisbee around the campsite  (across the road etc.) and I was learning to actually bring it all the way back into the deck/patio area as he was not going to do the "good Dad" thing I can sometimes mind control him with. So as we wind this adventure up (being mindful that we need to get home tomorrow so there's got to be a wrap up post) we'd just like to share the notion that the more toes the better.

Closer the toes, the less stress. All paws in I say. How's this for a pawful ending.....

A bright start to the day

The sun was in full flight this morning and doing its reflective bounce off the creek into the translucent green leaves on the bank thing again and Dad was determined to capture the whole event in his unrelenting (and pointless to us kelpies) attempt at making something worthwhile to visually take home. So he spent about 3 hours wrecking a perfectly good sleep in for the rest of the kennels inhabitants by opening and closing the door constantly for the entire time. Each time he did this he stepped on my most stupendous orthopedic bed (not that I have any sort of condition that requires such a luxurious resting abode to help resolve mind you - it is very comfortable though) almost, but not quite, stepping on me on the way past. I reckon he does it on purpose - just to make sure I know that he knows that he could if he wanted to but chooses not to do so. I know what he's up to so I pretend not to notice - playing the cool kelpie. After all - it's not my choice that they choose to put my bedroom in the middle of the hallway. I'll sleep where ever they decree (assuming I'm fed and pooped of course). I'm pretty sure he does know that if he did actually step on me I'd be pretty pissed off and the consequences would be more than dealing with (say) a wet cat from being dropped into a bathtub. Mum dodges around me as well. This whole situation has been exasperated by them moving my bed to far end of the hallway, blocking the entrance to master bedroom. this was done because of the constant cool breeze wafting under the front door, which I admit was a bit chilly down there. Apparently the architects of the mansion had skipped the interior air flow modelling that modern day building regulations decree need to be to adhered to. 

So Dad bounced around the kennel for the first few hours of the day annoying the begeebers out of me by constantly almost stepping on my head and Mum by constantly opening and banging the front door as he undertook his self assigned film crew duties. We both reckon he should take up stamp collecting - at least that way we'd get to sleep in and I'd happily do the licking of them as required.

After I got up, Dad told me the Currawong was about to steal the left over dregs of my bone - whoo hoo - so that made my morning complete. Got to show some authority and dutifully downed the lot.

The mid morning in Bright was very much so as we wandered into town to find a cafe to which I could wait (and worry - will she ever come out again?) whilst they had their caffeine hit and delayed delivery of the accompanying croissant. It's interesting to see the only people that are around town seem to be nomads. And very few of them to boot. There are a lot on noisy motor bikes, many on push bikes - with some seemingly cheating by combining the two with the help of batteries.

All is quiet in Bright mid week on a sunny spring morning. Apparently all that changes on the weekends - and in peak season. Little did we know the weather was about to flip another finger at us - just as we were getting used to the idea of serenity and calmness.

After the cafe whinge (I'm learning I can hurry them along when I'm bored, or cold, or hungry, or wanting to chase something, pee, poo, make a call, trade some stocks... whatever) I dragged them around the quarter of town which we hadn't seen yet. I was happy as I got to be on the move and continue to use my exceptional deduction based decision skills along the way. No shops triggered Mum's desire to use her equivalent skills until we finally got the olde Op Shop. Just before that it was pretty funny when we approached a lady who was attempting to use a hole in wall and realised she was standing on (and possibly smelt) some of my peers poop. She looked at me and hissed "Dogs!!". Dad pointed out that it was the owners fault. She replied that the dog did it and (by inference) dogs should not be allowed. He remarked that it's the owners responsibility to deal with it. Which by the way, my parents do all the time. As previously posted - "I poop - therefore I am" (17th century French canine philosophy) and therefore I do constantly and they always pick it up. The inference from Dad was - don't blame Master Tyrone Shoelaces for some other pooch's owners slackness. I wanted to point out that if she actually watched where she was walking (which I do all the time) she would not have stepped in it regardless and therefore it was actually her fault that she did, I couldn't as all this happened in about 2 seconds of real time and I can't communicate with humans that quickly (should see how long it takes me to create this blog!). So that was the story about the lady getting poop on her shoe whilst at the ATM. It is after all, a dogs tale.

Dad and I left Mum at the Op Shop and walked back to the kennel on wheels. In the Kennel on Wheels Park. I was concerned and kept looking back, Dad told me to get over it, she'll be along shortly. And so I did. A bit of relaxing and then they successfully tried cooking omelets in the AirFrier. A supposedly extraordinary feat to achieve in a kennel on wheels until it was pointed at that they could've just used the frying pan on gas.....

After that yummy (for them) lunch we hopped into the beast and drove down the road to try and find Dezzie.

I wasn't that interested, so we instead stopped at a local winery where we enjoyed the view across to Mount Buffalo whist the weather turned into a blustery cloudy day, threatening to rain but sort of never did - really did try though. We sat around whilst They tasted the fares and I honed my whinging/coercive skills. Back at the Kennel, Mum and I went for a walk around the park to check out the various accommodation offers (e.g. Glamping without the glamour) and for me to splash around in the creek some more, whilst Dad rode the fold-up down to DezziVille and back on the rail trail.

The weather was still trying to be annoying whilst we congregated back at the kennel - not happy that campers have moved into our frisbee park below - curtailing our activities to some extent. It did clear a bit before dinner where the last of the most expensive and salubrious pie was heated and eaten for dinner. I then directed Mum and Dad to work out some future kennel logistics with Grandma and Grandpa - this sort of stuff is tricky to achieve from a dogs perspective - however I persist and they eventually obey.

A journey back in time

We knew it would be cold when awakening - and indeed it was. Astutely waiting a couple of hours after sunrise until the weak warming rays flickered over the hilltops and filtered into the depths of the valley where the kennel is situated in order to take sting out of the air, it was still an effort for the humans to roll out from underneath their copious layers of the aforementioned blankets in order to brace the elements to effect their first pee of the day in those blocky things that they all congregate to when everyone is watching. When they're not, they just go where I do ( I observe but don't comprehend - I'm a kelpie).

The early morning sun was reflecting off the rushing waters below casting a complex pattern of glittering lights on the curtain of green leaves which up until now was blocking the view of the frisbee field below. Now they were putting on their own show which Dad tried to capture on the GoPro. I shake my head sadly at his pitiful attempts at cinematography - whilst I appreciate being there (what the heck - it gets me out and about) - I generally totally ignore them when he plays them back in the home kennel. Now if he did something seriously interesting - like (say) sheep running amok, then I'd be fully onboard.

He left me and Mum in the kennel and returned with coffee for her and acquiescenced to giving me breakfast (same old dried pellets - but who am I to complain? - at least I'm not overweight like some of my peers..... I can smell it in their pee on the posts - one of those many factors I was referring to in that earlier entry) and then we all jumped into the car and headed off along a long winding road, up over a mountain that manged to make both of us passengers fairly queasy. Not saying anything about his driving technique mind you (I'd never be so crass, being a passenger as such) but still....

And so with tumultuous insides we descended into the Kiewa valley, turned right and rolled into the township of mountainous beauty which resides at the end of the flat lands that used to be covered in tobacco. Nowadays it all just looks green and very picturesque.  Dad was born here and spent his puppy years here. He showed us the building he was born in (since replaced), the house he tried to drown the cat in (points for that as far as I'm concerned - reckons he wanted to just give it a bath - yeah right) - the kinder and school which are still there and apparently the squeals coming out of the grounds today are still the same as he emits to this day (good one Mum!). 

They do some weird arty things here, here's a pic of me hanging around under a really big bird of which I had no idea of what was about to happen to me if it was actually a real bird this big. But is it art? I'm a kelpie - it's not within my remit to answer these questions - simply to pose them.

The Cafe in which we stopped to try and settle the stomachs was really appreciated by me at least as I have now perfected the art of putting my ears back when people look at me and they say things like "he's so cute" and then I sit when they suggest it. And then I shake their hand when prompted and then they say  "I'll go get him a treat" and they do. Too easy. Settled tummy. Free snacks. Far better than those boring dried pellets...

We then did something Dad said he never did in his puppy years - we walked the entire circumference of the pondage (~5,000 steps apparently) and got to take in the whole panoramic position of the place - with the majestic mountains in the background (with still a hint of snow on the upper reaches), The Hyrdo infrastructure still in place, the old huge galvanised tin sheds that used to dry the tobacco (long gone) and the trees that 60 years ago adorned the streets are now creating canopies above them. One can see why it's called the mount of beauty - Dad reckons only beautiful people are born here. Mum and I reckon he's full of it.

And so we headed back over the pass into the next valley to which we came from and spent the rest of the afternoon hangin' around the kennel on wheels. Dad dragged me up the creek on the pretense that being a kelpie I like to run along beside him whilst he takes it easy on his bike. I was really feeling like I'd prefer to be back in the kennel with Mum, sleeping off the stress of a few hours sitting idly in a car, however I'm a good dog so I did what I was strongly suggested to do that I should do.

It was fun - I especially liked it when we stopped by the water and he threw sticks in for me to catch. Now this is weird.... I'd put them down and they'd disappear. Dad was pointing and yelling at me that it was downstream "over there" but I'd seen the ducks floating upstream, so surely sticks would do the same thing..... we went though a few sticks. Then we ran/rode downstream back to the kennel where I got to dry off laying in the warm sun on the luxurious lounge on the patio deck whist the parents sorted out their finances in the office.

The original dinner plan was to drive into town and leave me in the car whilst they went inside a fancy pancy restaurant. I'm OK with this notion (basically I'll do whatever - especially if I'm so exhausted from chasing sticks floating upstream all afternoon), however they did their research and apparently the menu was carp.

I think that's what Mum said. Anyway, instead we all walked back down beside the stream (not paying any attention to the plethora of sticks floating by) and into town where I hung around next to bean bags (not on, which would've been awesome) whilst they had beer, taco's and wine surrounded by a bunch of happy youths pretty much doing the same thing. I kept doing my ears back thing and everyone wants me to lick their hands - even though Dad keeps telling me not to. Jeebers that's confusing.

We walked back up by the creek to the kennel - me off lead and basically having a great time. Once there, Dad did what I fully expected him to do and herded me off (bike again) up the hill, over the bridge and into the frisbee field down across the creek from the kennel and we did the catch/return thing until I was totally pooped...making very sure that there is absolutely no way I am ever going to willingly actually hand him the frisbee. I'm doing all this work - he has to put in at least some effort. There may be a huge power imbalance in this relationship but I'm always going to do my darnedest to make sure I have some control and therefore I'm going to drop it here.

Right here and you're going to have to walk over and pick it up yourself. I know you will. You have done it before. You will do it again. There's a good dad... just walk over and pick up, good dad, now point in the direction you're going to throw it, good dad, now throw it, good dad... and I'm off running and now I'll catch it. Good dad - now let's go home and I'll go to bed and snore soundly whilst you stay up document the whole thing..there's a good dad....and don't ever forget - never try to bathe a cat.

Cold to the bone

According to my parents it was not unexpected that the sunny morning turned into a really cold blustery wind that could have been to reason for the kennel park to become well, mostly just a park.

After the big days adventures of yesterday the plan was to basically sit around and do naught. Apparently that was the whole idea of coming here, just enjoy being instead of on the move all the time. Because not much happened today here's a pic of me yesterday below the kennel.

When the waves of grey plumes swept up the valley it seemed the looming surrounding hills focused them with a particular ferociousness at our little kennel perched on the bank. I think Mum and Dad felt it more than me as I have a built in two layer fur coat and don't really feel the icy blasts the way they seem to.

Unlike yesterday when Dad got a lesson in how to react quickly when the wind took off his hat and he jumped up to stop it flying down the bank into the creek whilst the same gust then promptly toppled his deck chair spilling the full stubbie of his last cold beers onto the dirt - I didn't quietly have a laugh to myself today as I did then. Wasn't so funny with all that was happening today was the squalls coming in under the awning and getting their shoes wet.

Mum and I took a chance in a break in the deluges to walk into town, whilst Dad settled down in the dining room to do some reading, with a real book. I must say these people do look different when their faces are not lit by the glow of their devices. After a fab adventure into town where I got to hang out the front of shops whilst she went in, hang in cafe whilst she consumed some extraordinarily priced coffee and the purchase of my highlight of the day - a wonderfully smelling bone. They label this perfume "Rancid" and I just can't get enough of it. If I could bottle it I would. I'd be the most entrepreneurial kelpie on the planet, with high end stores in all the most expensive strips. Dogs would come from miles around in order to get in on the action. I tried to bury it within the (verbally expressed) bounds of our kennel, but there was nowhere that really worked. In the end I just got frustrated with all the dirt and grit stuck to it and left it to mature on the annex mat. Then we (me and Dad) spent the rest of the day fighting off the Currawongs that wanted a piece of it as well. 

Dad took off for a while on the fold-up to explore the trails along the river and then returned carrying some local vino he found in a local shop and seemed very pleased with himself. I noticed, but didn't pay him any credence in his efforts as I had a gritty bone to try and stash nearby (and thus improve the potency of the perfume). Later the rain came in harder waves, Dad read a bit more in the living room and then when the sun came out - went and captured the creek canopy on the GoPro whilst reading some more in the sun room.

Mum spent her time reading (and surfing) in the bedroom. I'm getting really good at waiting at the kennel whilst they go off to pee. Needless to say - when they do go I will wait attentively for their return. When the next wave of rain came through we headed inside and I lay around in the dogs room whilst they played scrabble in the games room.

After the game (Mum trouncing the opposition with the highest ever score with Dad complaining about the plethora on vowels dealt to him in the game of life) we all headed out onto the patio as the lowering sun briefly warmed the deck area under the pergola. They to consume their pre's and nibbles whilst I finally got stuck into the now matured bone. Personally would have preferred to wait until tomorrow, however I instinctively knew it was now or lose it for good - to many creatures wandering around here, not like my home kennel where I can bury these treasures for months without them being disturbed. Life on the road - use it or lose it is the kelpies credo. After the consumption I did lay around on my patio lounge whilst admiring the setting sun.

I then lay around on my indoors palatial bed whilst they ran around the kitchen (room) figuring out how to cook an extremely expensive family pie in an airfrier. Suspect this is why we go out more often than not when on the road. And so as the evening extends into night the predicted coldness settles on the kennel. Apparently we're looking at 1 degree by the time the sun decides to pop over the hill tops. If I had've left that bone out there it'd be frozen - yeech - where'd be the perfume then? 

 

Bright in the sunshine

It was just like old times on the road, waking up them up with impatience and then directing them to pack everything up in an orderly manner. I got to ignore a rabbit sunning itself across the road whilst Dad had breaky whilst contemplating how smoothly everything was going. It didn't go quite as well as planned today though as Dad almost blew a pffooherr valve when the tail gate on the car refused to rise according to instruction. This meant all sorts of stuffing around trying to reset the beasts thinking, reading manuals, getting annoyed that nothing worked as he wished. Eventually (following the instructions in the manual) he called the nearest dealer with the intent of speaking to someone to help him work it through. That ended up in a booking for the beast in Wanga on Friday ... Four days away, so that didn't really help get the fold-ups into the back, the kennel hitched and get to our destination.

I dragged Mum down to reception to tell them that were were going to miss our checkout time. It's off-peak, no-one coming in, the place is about 1/4 full so they didn't care. Dad sucked it up and took Mums advice and loaded the boot via the back seats, so much stress due to one faulty tail gate. I didn't care though as I'd found a stick and Mum was willing to try and take it off me amidst the whirlwind of the pack up. I consider my help invaluable.

So we exited the park an hour later than expected, No complaints really, the sun was shining and the glowing trees waved their goodbyes in the still brisk westerly blowing up the valley. Didn't even get to explore the weirdly placed bubbling creek which goes around the the top of the lake instead of naturally flowing into it. This was creating a uncomfortable sense of universal displacement to my inbuilt Kelpie space/time kineses, however I let it go - Mum had shopping to do. We parked the rig 2 blocks from the main street and wandered up with me on the lead making sure that I could be annoying as possible stopping at every interesting smell and adding my own if it meets the correct criteria to do so. This is tricky and I really do get the feeling sometimes that not everyone around fully understands the complex set of equations that need to be worked through in order to make a decision on this. It's a fine balance - especially when so many peers have been to exactly the same spot and have undoubtedly gone through the same thought provoking process. Sometime I get yanked away before I even get to decide, decision made for me - but who is to say that lost opportunity may have had huge implications in the future of the universe? All for the sake of trying on a dress. Which didn't even fit. At least sheep do what kelpies decree is correct in the world.

Armed with our extraordinarily expensive pre-purchased pie we drove away and down off the Beechworth  escarpment with Dad saying he was really pleased we didn't have to go up that long steep winding road and drifted our way through very picturesque valleys to the town that literally does glow in the sunshine and is thus called Bright. Stopping along the way at roadside stop that specifically said - "No Caravans to enter here" - Dad did anyway because he wanted to pee. Go figure - he didn't even bother to check out who'd been peeing there before (like I do), there was a sign tugging on his lead saying "don't pee here" and yet he did anyway. Honestly, sometimes the power imbalance here is simply mind blowing. Anyway, he did get to suffer the indignity of having to do a multi-turn reversing maneuver in front of some head shaking incredulous tourists (sans vans) to get the rig out of there without causing any damage to anything (Mum helped brilliantly). 

Our new kennel location is on top of a steep bank with a swift creek running below. Ducks go by swimming the rapids with what looks like a lot of fun. Curiously the tailgate on the beast now works - so all that stress was for naught (I could've told him that - except I was too busy contemplating that creek scenario at the time). 

It's a short bike ride into town and so we did that, checked out the blanket shops (there are a few options in this place) and landed in the brewery in order to relax and decide what to do about blankets. Seems to me it's harder for them to decide about a blanket than it is for me to add to a post of collected pee's. Anyway - the pending forecast and the cost of two drinks pretty much sealed the decision.

Back to the kennel on the bank, dropped the goods and then we had a serious run around the famed Canyon Walk. Why walk when you can run (me) and ride (them). It was a very pleasant adventure with the sun making all the old imported trees glow in a fabulous palette , there was even one section which was literally frothing in some sort of blossomy bloom - didn't look too healthy but was impressive in afternoon sun. Apparently that excursion was purely performed to wear me out, that it did. So when we all wandered back down to the brewery for dinner I did as expected and crashed on the floor at their feet whilst they consumed some pretty boring fare. Limited menu options - can't have pizzas two nights in a row - and we had to head out now as tomorrow the weather turns (I nose this - my kelpie senses are telling me so).

Back up to home on the bank, whilst Mum went to experience the different shower block, Dad and I went down to the flats across the creek to show off how well we do the frisbee thing. I was pretty excited about all of that - even though I was previously exhausted - just say that "F" word and I'm on.

Needless to say - now that it's down time, it's a bit hard to hear that inevitable clacking of the keyboard over the sound of the rushing waters below.

The worthy beaches of Beechworth

Rumor has it that the place inappropriately named because it's miles away from the ocean. Ha Ha - I get the joke (Kelpies do have a sense of humour - just not when it comes to sheep), however some bright spark decided to put a lake in the middle of a gully and lo and behold ! there are beaches here. Maybe not so much as one next to a sea but still sandy bits between the water and the land and therefore (considering the expense of putting the lake in the first place) pretty darn valuable. "worth" a lot - especially to the birds and the kids and the (breaking the rules) dogs off leashes enjoying them.

I got to run around the lake this morning after the slow start of Mum and Dad staying in bed until I nagged them to get up. I was bursting.

You would've been too if you'd spent 10 hours cooped up inside a kennel dreaming about splashing through the shallow water chasing ducks. So we hung around a bit whilst they had breakfast and enjoying the sunshine filtering through the overhead canopy whilst half the park packed up and moved out. The old vintage cars across the road sounded like trucks without mufflers as they warmed them up - just on the verge of stalling for about half an hour before they finally trundled off into the distance. The AP6 version Dad (and Grandpa before him) drove never sounded like that! The park ranger told Dad off because I didn't have a lead on - even though I was within my kennel boundary. "If I let one dog go off lead I'd have to do the same for all of them."... really? this guy obviously does not understand how well behaved I am.

Just to prove his point later on though when Mum and Dad were talking to my sister on their device I took off after a rabbit and disappeared from the kennel surrounds. The resulting panic for them was telling. That'll teach them to take their eye's off me (heh heh). I'm a Kelpie - never said we're consistent.

The run into town around the lake was great - finally got to expend some energy and poop along the way. They on their folded out bikes with me on my own legs. When we got into town we hung around a fine foods cafe where they got their caffeine hit, I got to pose in front of the the old buildings and then sit around whilst they consumed their bevies. Fine food indeed - this is one of the numerous places around the state that advertise they have the best award winning pies in the country. Either they are all making it up or there are so many awards handed out that everyone gets one. Possibly the award for the most expensive pies goes to this place (the categories are never mentioned) as we bought 3 pies and it cost $80. Back in the day, they dug gold out of the ground, nowadays they dig it out of the tourists pockets. Apparently they're good pies though - I wouldn't know because all I get to eat is the same old dried pellets (but I won't bother going there again...).

We ran home via the rail trail - I say "we", meaning I ran, they rode and didn't seem to spend anywhere near the effort I did. Neither did they keep stopping and sniffing all the fabulous scents that had been left there by my peers in order for me to do exactly what I was doing. They did have to stop and wait impatiently for me whilst I fulfilled my sacred rights in this matter though. I was having a ball and they didn't seem too upset - probably due to the lack of having to immediately be somewhere else.

Lunch (for them) back at the kennel was the aforementioned pies warmed with various degrees of success in the airfrier and we then drove back into town for the inevitable hang around outside the shops whilst Mum goes in. Dad told me this is nothing compared to being with her overseas, so stop complaining.  I put up with it for a fair bit but eventually started to get a bit antsy because there's only so many hair deranged people getting in and out of run down vehicles you can look at in one day. Regardless of the variety of scents they trail behind them. They are an eclectic bunch up here. Dad didn't seam to notice, but I did. I can't help it, I'm a Kelpie.

We hung around back at the kennel mid afternoon before heading back into town for dinner at the brewery. Apparently it's not possible to come to this town without doing this. So Mum says anyway. We were not complaining - I got to lie on the ground watching the plethora of young kids running ruckass around the place whilst fabulous pizzas, beer and wine were consumed above me.

Back at the Kennel (on wheels),  Dad & I went down to the lake where he captured the sunset on the Gopro whilst I captured balls which were thrown for my enjoyment in the warm glow of the fading sun. Now as I drift off to sleep in my nice comfy bed it seems a bit colder tonight, luckily Mum had spent the afternoon carefully washing and drying a blanket her mum had made and they'd bought another one during the day in order cater for the elements. Tomorrow we head off to another place - Dad says it'll be bright - I thought this place was perfectly luminescent. Can't figure it out. It's tough being a kelpie on the road..

Another Dog Darn It adventure

Here's me, Master Tyrone Shoelaces... king of all I survey.... yes, yes, I know ... being a Kelpie I have a very narrow tunnel vision and thus the breadth of my "surveyership" is limited to balls, bones, licking and the occasional most excellent catch of a frisbee in flight, however, my superiority over other mortal beings is so profound I can casually pretend it does not exist and thus relax in the comfort of it being so. I'm comfortably cool. Nothing upsets me. I lead a great life. So much so when I woke up this morning Dad was poking me say "Road Trip". He's done this once before and we all know how that worked out! So me fully understanding what was about to transpire I decided to play the cool Kelpie, idly watching  whilst they ran about the house doing all that collecting of bags and stuff they seem to be so fond of taking with them when ever they vacate the home kennel for while.

The rain god (aka Mum) had cast her wares and as such the heavens persisted down for the whole morning as we (well.. they) packed up, drove up to Grandma and Grandpa's, collected the on wheels kennel and eventually hit the road with me controlling the whole shebang from my now well worn position in the back seat.

Eventually the rain sodden clouds gave way to overcast and as the rain god slept her way through the boring chilled soundtrack her power over the weather diminished so by the time she awoke the sun was shinning and the world was warming and it almost seemed that it was indeed time for a holiday. I was sitting in the back seat pretending to be asleep myself, however there's always at least one eye half open, making sure things are going to plan.

A small detour at Wanga to purchase some pillows (whoops according to those up front) and then a short hop over to Beechworth and here we are are. Ensconced in a very picturesque location with me naturally hanging around the kennel whilst Mum and Dad re-learnt everything about setting it all up

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I'm so cool I don't need a lead. I just hang. Occasionally they'll put one on me, mostly to assure those people in the vicinity that I'm not going to jump up on them and lick them ( which I admit, given the slightest indication that it's OK to do so, I will). This afternoon Mum spotted a pub sidewalk strewn with vacant tables and seats bathing in the glow of the late warm afternoon sun and declared that it would an ideal place to have "one" before heading back to the now well set up kennel. Here I was on the lead. I didn't mind ... to start with, but after a while (her "one" seemed to be pretty big according to Dad - who used that to justify having two) I decided it was time to start chasing balls, sticks.. whatever - don't care, but come on...let's go and do something! Anything! eventually they got the idea and headed off back to the Kennel on wheels and I got to hang around off lead again whilst I tried to tempt them into a session of ball whilst they performed the age old ritual of grey nomad "pre's".

Finally they acquiesced and we all headed of to the most splendid lake which adorns the kennel park and Dad finally produced the frisbee, of which we managed to do our thing in the relatively strong wind which was flowing up the valley as the sun slowly made a majestic exit over the glistening waters. Inevitably the plethora of birds provided the aural soundtrack whilst the firepots from the campers provided the olfactory equivalent. Being a Kelpie I took all this in. Not so sure about the parents.

Just to prove my coolness, later on a rabbit ran past our kennel (they are prolific here - as they are down the beach), I looked , was tempted...Mum said "stay" and so I did. Not sure why, but frisbees are far more catch-able than rabbits. Actually I do know why... frisbee's don't mind being caught... 

Dinner using the airfrier is apparently the way to go according to Mum and Dad. by the time they'd sorted themselves out in that regard I was ready to hit the bed. So here I am, once again living the best life, sleeping in my extremely comfortable "orthopedic" bed (yet to rip it up, give me time I haven't finished on that yet) whilst Mum snores and Dad pounds away on the keyboard above me.

Life on the road - it's just another dog darn-it day to me.