The dog nose

So from the tail of the dog to to the other end (being the nose) here ends my woofy two week adventure with my Mum and Dad as they finally took me with them on one of their blog worthy experiences.

The morning sun up next to the river was non-descript, it was cloudy and grey - possibly foggy and therefore nothing much seemed to be happening under the extremely large pine trees that we were camped under. This lack of sun rays streaming through the windows combined with barely realised time zone shift that some dogs call jet lag (Pistol and Boo told me about it) meant that we didn't really get up as early as we wanted and therefore the idea of getting the kennel underway at 9:00 am was a bit too ambitious. Besides - I wanted to play ball in the really cool location, while Mum and Dad seemed really intent on packing everything up. Honestly, if they hadn't have spent so much time putting it all out yesterday then they wouldn't have needed to spend so much time putting all back today. And that would be more ball time for me. There was no ball in sight though. There were, however, a couple of frisbee's lying around. There was the purple one I was retrieving in the sunset last night just ... there. And there is the glow in the dark floppy one I was catching on the beach last night just ... there. Can't you see that? I'm ready to go?!! Come on on you two ... really? Oh for goodness sake - I'll pick up this pine cone then and make a game out of that instead...Almost got their attention with that one as they slowly moved around making everything stowed away (like a bone in a pile of dirt), connected the car the kennel, and headed off. I was just sitting there on the hill watching, wondering if they would just leave me sitting on the hill with my pine cone in front of me, however of course there was the call - the open door and the instruction to get in - and we were off! 

The time-frame pressures fell apart even more when we realised that we couldn't just drive out of town, petrol was required as was coffee and brunch, so we turned right and went back into town (instead of left and scootin' outa there). 30 minutes later (and thus doubling the Pistol and Boo effect) we finally hit the highway and headed back eastwards. I nose this, this is where the sun comes from. I'm a Kelpie.

The drive back was a conglomeration of driving experiences. I could tell from my control seat (also known as the "dog lounge" - this is where I can choose to watch out either side, forwards, backwards (when there's no kennel blocking my view) or I can lay down and go to sleep. Pretty much do whatever I want whereas Mum and Dad up the front are tied down and can hardly move compared to my freedom. Pistol and Boo reckon'd they could ask for food as well by pressing a button when they were travelling... I reckon they were were full of it) that the roads were varied and with some interesting challenges for Dad to work his way though. Luckily the swaying issue was resolved, so he could artfully dodge the potholes and other crappy surfaces that continually appeared. roadworks were in full swing (obviously needed as they were in really bad condition in spots - sometimes even to the point of me having to adjust my comfortable position as the rig bounced around! ) and thus causing more delays.

We learnt a bit about the lady behind the dashboard and need to figure out how to remove "C" roads from her directions as she took us on some doozeys today. Dad stated at one stage "he was not happy about this" as we headed off down yet another weird back-road at the behest of her directions. We got there though, not sure if the time made up was lost by having to slow down due to the narrow roads. For all we know we may have missed some more major delays due to the "A" roads works going on.

We stopped for lunch in truck parking stop that had pot holes big enough to swallow the kennel whole. Had to mention that to justify the photo. Then we cruised/bounced our way down the Hamilton Highway and joined in the chaos known as the Geelong road, the bridge and tunnel at a crawl. Gaining a new appreciation for all those truck drivers that maneuver their huge rigs along narrow lanes with only inches to spare on each side.

Eventually we pulled up at our base kennel. Luckily no-one was parked out the front so we could. The the unload took place. really weird how much stuff we'd manged to get in there via the car on the way out, seems like we had so much more stuff now.

I (being the dog controller of the whole process) was directing from my position of being sprawled on the floor inside.

We then cleaned the kennel, I offered physically help as I'm really good at cleaning myself. Dad suggested that licking the whole kennel would be difficult for me, especially the higher up bits where even he needed a ladder. I acquiesced, even though I was feeling I was not pulling my weight (for the first time mind you). So here we are, home kennel. And that's my trip. Dad and I will take the kennel back to Grandma and Grandpa tomorrow but that's probably not post worthy. Guaranteed I'll be peeing on post somewhere though. 

Port of Fairies

There was not much to report on today, so I'll try and and make it quick so Dad and I can sneak down to East Beach (Port Fairy) for a last night frisbee and dip in the ocean before we head off home and the whole road trip comes to an end. At least that's what's going to happen tomorrow according to Mum. Dad keeps going through the motions as if this life will never end. Just one great big frisbee throw after another...

Our early morning slumber today was disturbed by a plethora of young parents coming up to the seats out the front of our place to watch the sunrise. There was something happening over there that Dad saw when he popped out for a pee - assumed it was Venus (but found out later that it wasn't so we had no idea what they were all looking at). No problem at all except from one young tacker who didn't want to be there and kept yelling/grisseling/carrying on telling the whole kennel park that this was his position. And good on his parents for letting him do so, for about an hour. That's they way. Poor little blighter was probably upset about the fact that he was being forced to watch something that was not screen based. I don't know, I'm a dog and really don't understand the large parent psych, let alone the little parent psych. What I do know (dog psych wise) is that I poop therefore I am. I also know that when a dog pup is giving me the poops I snap at them, they yelp, they learn and thus they change their behavior. Deep thinking stuff from a wise kelpie on the road.

Speaking of which, on the road again we went today. I was busily packing everything whilst Mum and Dad sat in the kennel eating breakfast. Here is a picture of me contributing:

With out my help they would've been hours late. I was particularly helpful in dropping another poop which Dad didn't notice but our astute ranger did as we where leaving - pointing it out even - making sure Mum collected it. She reckons it wasn't mine, but I know it was. I put it there.

Mum got the the take away coffee's and Dad had and I a fun set of petrol pump jostling games before we headed down more southwards through the variating countrysides. An interesting pee stop in middle of nowhere saw what Dad thought was the coolest free book swap library (was in an old fridge ... hahaha) to then be accosted by an old local dude that just appeared to tell us about the bookswap fridge. He must wait there all day ready to pounce on the unsuspecting travelers in order to coax books out of them. It was all pretty unremarkable until Mum got bitten on the bum by a wasp as she sat back down in the car. Never a dull moment in Rendelsham.

On the way Dad insisted we stop and see the Blue Lake at Mt Gambier. I was unimpressed. This is because (as a dog) I'm clourblind and so for me it was just a fenced off body of water a long way away from any sort of swim for me.  Apparently is is very blue. My highlight here was (yep, proud of myself here) got to do another poop on their lawns.

Probably the highlighty/scariest moment of the trip happened shortly after when the lady in the dashboard directed us out of town via a back way and instructed us to turn right onto the the B1 - just here at this intersection. No one ( well especially Dad, the driver) realised it was a dual highway at this point, once completing the turn the notion that the service lane to the left having 100kph speed signs seamed a little odd. Needless to say once it was realised that we were literally heading up the wrong way of a double road the quickest and corrective action was to launch the whole rig up over the concrete verges across the grass and down the concrete verges on the the correct side of the road. Being the left. Surprising to all of us - this 2 seconds of instinctive driving did not cause any scrapes, bangs, thumps or distress on the entire rig. A few takeaways from that little escapade indeed.

South Aus's every body of water seemingly to be salted giving way to millions of hectares of pine trees then gave way to Victorias crappy roads and eucalyptus plantations.

The rest of the journey down to the port of faeries was a nice drive through the country side. The lady in the console took us on a risky yet rewarding detour of Portland , saving us at least 15 minutes and was along well made roads with no-one else on them. So that worked out well.

Our new kennel locale sits us under some really old pine trees that define this town and is extremely windy so the awning has not gone up.

Dad tried to find  beach which I could play in but they're all closed to dogs until after 6:00pm. We found this one but it was too rocky for me to do my kelpie stuff. (which is why we're heading out after this).

The kennel site is situated on the river so it's a fabulous outlook and as the evening got older the wind dropped off, so it's actually quite comfortable now.

I was a really good dog while they had dinner in the oldest pub in Victoria. I have taken the art of sitting under their tables and at their feet to a new level.

and afterwards we had a bit of a frisbee catch on the grass behind the kennel.

We then did a quick and sneaky in the dark ride down to the beach which was spectacular in the full moon, a gentle breeze and small soft waves rolling in. Didn't spend too long though as we have a big day of (hopefully) nothing eventful happening in order to get home safe and sound. Will be a long drive.

Roaming Robe

Our last full day of not being on the road and with the weather turning for the cooler there was no hurry to do anything much today.

Dad got up early again to catch the sunrise from the top of the cliffs above the gently crashing waves next to the kennel park and was a bit disappointed about a large cloud bank in the eastern horizon blocking the spectacular event it could've been and meaning the shoot went for another 15 minutes until the blistering bright orb decided to rise above it all. Still better than going into the office. I slept though the whole scenario, keeping Mum company back in the kennel. We all then had another long sleep in as the nomads began their next step on their never ending journey's around us. So it wasn't really 'sleep' as such as they are all very noisy, especially the diesel engines which continuously growl their way slowly along the roads as they prowl around the park. More so - just lying here is relaxing and not having to think about having to do anything. I even stopped thinking about chasing frisbees for a while and actually relaxed too. Admittedly though, the worry about forgetting where I had actually buried that bone back at home is constantly preying on my mind (I'd had two great spots and now I can't remember which one I chose).

The big event which all the parents were talking about today was the electricity going out - just as Mum was boiling the kettle for the first cuppa of the day. Therefore it was her fault. Good impact as well as it not only killed all the power in the town but also a large region of the state. She sure does have some influence does my mum. The kennel also has a gas kettle so the stress was not too much and the devices still worked so they could get an understanding of the extent of the event as well as remaining connected to the world. This means absolutely nothing to me although it must be important to them as they seam to to spend an extraordinary amount of time peering into their devices. I use a different method of mind control over them, with generally the same outcomes though. Apparently it wasn't Mum turning on the kettle but more so due to to storm damage. I don't believe them - it was too coincidental for my liking.

So the power outage had direct and dire impact on our trip. No power means none of those gurgling machines that make the caffine hits that my parents are now well and truly set in their ways of getting. To make matters even worse (for Mum) all the stores in town were closed. Her one day of freedom for shopping day ruined. That'll teach her to turn on a kettle without considering the consequences. We wandered through the eerily quite town with me tugging on my lead and stopping to sniff every post and peeing on every second one as if nothing was amiss. Mostly because that's what I'd do anyway, but also as a lesson to them that there is more to life than gurgling machine created coffee and succumbing to the compulsion to purchase yet more chameleon coatings. Annoyingly my lesson was lost because we stumbled on a place that was still open because they have a generator. 

Good chance it paid for itself this one event as they were packed and the wait was long. No care here though as I got to sit under the table (again) whilst they caught up on the world on their devices until the coffee arrived. once consumed we headed back to the kennel via the beach.

Woo Hoo! was not expecting that! and so we'd found a new beach, really close to the kennel, we also found a stick and I was therefore extremely happy, getting extremely wet playing fetch in and out of the water. Afterwards I got in trouble by doing a big poop (on our site) in front of the ranger, who was a bit grumpy about the fact I was not on a (visible) lead. Mum and Dad were inside the kennel not watching me so they were in trouble as well. After that we all sat inside for a bit contemplating pooping on lawns and what it means in the overall scheme of things. I came to the conclusion that I don't care. From a philosophical perspective I've worked out that "I poop, therefore I am". You can take it or leave it. Dad seams intent on doing both (taking it away and then leaving in a bin).

With the weather turning we picked a time where Dad's (still working) device showed not too much rain heading our way so I packed them up and herded them on their fold up bikes again. More good times. After mis-guessing where the bike path should go and having to push the bikes across the sandy beach we headed off to the local bluff on a well made and very interesting sealed trail. There is a lot of money in this place it seams - very nicely built houses (also known as kennels if they have dogs in them), immaculately restored historical buildings and a very well appointed marina. Lots of nice green, well mown lawns in the public and private spaces between them all.

The view up the top of the bluff was cool and thus I got in some pics for Dad and then we went back into town with Mum stressing about getting me a drink.

Which she got for me eventually and it very nice.  By now the power was back on so we left her in town for that retail therapy hit and headed back to the kennel, and tidy up a bit and hang for a bit more.

Dad then whipped into town for some lunchy supplies on his bike, returned and put together some capriata bread roles with tomato, cheese, salami, olives and well traveled avocado. We all then had an afternoon nap as we all seamed pretty exhausted from the day of not doing anything much.

Afterwards, they had a game of scrabble in the kennel whilst I hung around under foot. And then we all wandered into town (with me checking out the same peeing posts to see what had changed since I went through a few hours ago) and we ended up having dinner in the outside courtyard at Olives with me at their feet whilst they had (yet again) seafood pasta.

We walked home and when we got back to the kennel Dad took me down to the beach because he'd spotted a sunset happening, so we had a lot of fun for 30 mins or so with me getting yet another dip in the sea chasing sticks (got dumped at one point - that was interesting as I can now swim) and posing for photos. Exhausted and very wet I then sat back up at the corner of our kennel site watching the world and letting strangers scratch my ears as they walked past. Our kennel park is called SeaVu. Seemingly the owners don't know how to spell and it's a little deceptive as not all the site have views of the sea (maybe "Vu" actually does mean - not a guaranteed view). So all the poor plebs who are camped on the back side of the hill come up and sit at the tables in front of us. Which is all good as we get to watch them and they get to admire me - sitting at the edge of our prime site as a good dog should - letting them scratch my ears if they want to. I'm so exhausted I don't even bother to try to lick them. Maybe I'm learning.

The persistent rumble of thunder

Dad disappeared early to catch the sunrise and was back in bed by the time the great kennel pack up started around us. From the place being choc-a-bloc yesterday, to the time we trundled out of there ourselves the place was looking deserted with most of the prime waterfront positions now empty, waiting for the next influx of parents with their kennels. And their dogs of course.

Being so impressed with the coffee's and african flavoured chicken wraps discovered yesterday we did  quick detour northwards in town (like all of 300 meters) in order to get the mandatory caffeinated beverages and food for the ensuing trip southwards. I know my directions. I'm a Kelpie. Dad has taught me "left" and "right". My ancestry DNA within me knows where the south paddock is (and of course the ability to herd all the sheep out of it).

So I knew that Robe was south of us and we'd gone north a little bit for Mum to spend some time across the road while Dad and I played frisbee in the park next to the lake. I met an ostrich. Looks like the Emu I once faced off but it's bottom smelled like plastic.

Good thing the parents were well stocked as as useful road sign said "no services for 145 km". That resulted in some really nice landscapes to wind our way though. We came up behind a motor home that was cruising along between 85 and 90 kmh and having no desire to push the rig beyond it's safety limits as well as being mindful of the others on the road behind us (they didn't have attached kennels), we maintained a nice safe distance (to allow overtakers to overtake both of us individually) and leisurely cruised behind them. It was a nice drive with the seemingly endless lakes of the Coorong glistening in the late morning light, beckoning to be explored and admired. No dogs allowed - so I mind-tricked the parents up the front to continue southwards. I wanted a beach that I could play in and that beach I knew was south of there (don't ask me how - just accept the fact that I'm a kelpie and therefore I know stuff like that).

With three busting bladders on board we arrived in Kensington SE. This the town where the locals decided they needed a unique landmark for tourists, went with the "we need a big something" and came up with a lobster. Great idea. Being a dog I'll always appreciate a big lobster, however also being a road-wise traveler on the road I also appreciate a sign (or two) saying what is coming up. i.e Three bursting bladders in the car, no signs (at all) saying "peeing posts this way ->" (usually a stylized picture of parents - white on a blue background standing next to each other....my mission in life is to get dog into that frame as well) or even and indication that creatures in this part of the world have biological needs at all. Nothing. not even a sign saying "big lobster ahead".. that may have indicated a reason to slow down and get off the road so the locals can pass through without cursing at those idiot tourists in town blocking the roads. So in frustration Dad pulled off the road, performed a ridiculous illegal U-turn at an intersection because he'd spied a public peeing post in park across the road. The grass was green and all seamed good with the world and we opened the doors - to an oven outside - yep the temp was 38 degrees and we all wilted in it. Geebers this is a harsh land.

Suitably pee free we headed out of that town not even bothering to find out what the "SE" means. If they can't bother putting up signage to the public peeing posts then we couldn't be bothered exploring the nuances of their local culture. Even if it includes a big lobster. Besides, I had a beach I needed to be on. Sooner than later. So HURRY UP ... (that's my mind tricks over the parents in the front seats. I tried to use the old "are we there yet?" but Dad is immune to that and just replies "almost, just around the next bend".  I blame my sisters for wearing that one out before I even got a chance to use it effectively).

It seamed to work as for the first time in a week we actually came up behind someone who was slower on the road than us. Major front end damage so they were limping along and thus Dad actually did a passing maneuver with the kennel on the back, mostly so anyone else coming up behind didn't need to deal with two slow vehicles at once (that was his justification). I wasn't entirely convinced, however, any step closer to the beach is fine by me. And so we cruised into Robe. What a place to be in. Thanks to Mum's persistence we have the best site in the best kennel park in the whole place. We have a 180 degree view of the ocean (and surrounds) and spent the evening soaking up the grandeur of what nature can attempt to throw at us.

It was hot when we were setting up the kennel. So hot in fact that I actually lay underneath it in the cool wet grass/sand (watered earlier obviously) and let Mum and Dad do all the work. Thanks to our friendly neighbors next door advice, instead of just walking down to our local beach we drove over there (picture someone pointing across to the other side of the bay to see a very long white sandy strip strewn with vehicles - yes we can see it from our site because we have the best site). And so we all hopped back into the car and I got to go to the beach I'd been banging on about pretty much all day.

People are encouraged to drive on this beach. It's called Long Beach because it seems to go for a long way around the bay. Public Holiday today so there were lots of cars and hey!, still a lot of space. The water was warm. The waves a little dumpy but fun, the shallows perfect enough for me to run myself ragged catching the frisbee. Over and over again. Not being used to having cars on the beach I almost got myself run over in an uncontrolled excitement phase but apart from that it was amazing. Just the beach I was after. Mum had a swim. Dad caught a wave and no-one got taken by the shark that was spotted earlier (well not that we know of - haven't actually watched the news tonight).

We then decided to have dinner in the kennel (instead of walking into town) and it was a great choice. Apart from the fabulous meal Mum constructed for Dad and her. I had another bone and we got to watch a big storm rollover the bay, touch us briefly and and then rumble off into the distance as the sun gently lowered itself over the horizon throwing coloured shards of light all over the place. Dad was in his happy space, taking photos and videos constantly.

I was in a bit of a tizz as I've decided that loud bangs that I don't understand require me to source some sort of comforting. Maybe I'm getting soft - I really should speak to some cousins who work on a farm to see what they think. Problem with them is they don't really seem to have the same demure conversation skills that I do. Cage vs. Kennel - think I'll stick with Kennel thanks.

However, as the night rolls on so does the rumbling thunder in the background as the cells move around and bypass us.- with the white noise aural sheen tonight being delivered by the surf and the wind. the storms are bringing relief from the heat at least. Maybe. Only tomorrow will tell. 

Here's a bonus pic Dad couldn't help but share with you. I'm not in it. Not sure how that can be justified...

A canine in the Coorong

Another really hot day, which always drains me. Having black fur in the hot sun doesn't help. Pouncing into the cool waters of the lake does. So as soon as they woke up and we'd had our breaky I started nagging about going over to the water. They thought something was wrong with me, so I had to be forthright and tell them in very clear language that I should be in the water.

Now. Stop sitting there drinking your coffee. We need to go over there to where the water is. Now. I don't care that you're still in your PJ'S, the kennel is a mess and DJT is about to start WW3. I need to go jump in that water over there. Eventually Mum understood and took me over. I got wet and I was happy.

There is an underlying background noise in this place. It's wierd. No-one seems to notice it but I do. When I'm at the beach I know (now after all these years) it's the sound of the ocean casting a white noise aural sheen as the base upon which all other sounds rise above. At the kennel at home it's the roads and the never ending sound of cars moving about. Here it's the Correllas. All day long they sit in the trees and quietly caw at each other, sometimes in groups (picking on a particular tree) and then it's more noticeable, probably as they're talking over each other as parents seem to do when they get into large groups. Often it's just two of them, maybe working through the nuances of Uncle Harry's petulance for gum nuts. I don't know. I don't speak Galah. However the noise is always there when we are here.

I also heard the sound of a pelican flapping it wings today as it pushed it's way over Dad and I when we were down at the lake having another dip. That's a big bird with a very distinct flapping sound. I'm glad I'm not a bird crazy dog because if I was, this place would be driving me nuts. 

So I herded Mum and Dad into town on their bikes again in the hot late morning sun, it was only a 10 minute run but it really took it out of me. I was quite agitated sitting under the table in the cool shade whilst they consumed their standard machine (that goes fssiiittt, gurgle, gurgle, fssssitt, splutter, splutter, phshhhtt) made caffine hit. They decided to get lunch as a take away upon leaving.

It was just one of those wraps there (picture Mum pointing at the item). 20 minutes later of me standing around Dad being a good dog she got it. Weird, but most likely due to one of the staff leaving her shift just as a few nomads wandered up to order at the same time. Busy place this Meningie. A nice stop on very long roads it seems. We checked out the pub as an option for dinner and Dad said no way as the afternoon sun beating into the outside (dog friendly area) would be horrendous. Good call, it was already 35 and getting warmer. So I herded them back to the kennel with great efficiency and even managed to stop and sniff some interesting posts along the way. They thought they were in control by going ahead, stopping and yelling at me to hurry up, but no - it's me in control here. I'm a kelpie.

It was a heartwarming and relieving sight to see the swag of our incessant verbiage motormouth from last night packed up with the (assumed now empty) esky in the back of our neighbors car. His must've been parked outside the kennel park. Have not heard a peep from them since. They've turned into a standard quiet couple on the road. Strongly suspect they are relieved as well. 

Because we had a day off from being on the road, Dad took us for a drive.... He wanted some slow TV footage, Mum and I wanted to escape the heat, as so agreed to go along. We effectively drove around the Lake (Albert) and did a side step to have a look at the Coorong. Which is what this locale is all about. Between the land and the sea is along strip of sand dunes with water behind it and us behind that.

As it's a no dog zone we had to be careful as there was a ranger station within view of our veiwing point, however I had a good look and was actually pretty keen to get down there. The water looked very clean and tempting (not like the brown muck back at the lake) and there were birds (not my thing as you know) all over it. and the sand dunes beyond...Oooohh lah lah - my kinda playground. Anywoof, not to be. Mum was going on about snakes and Dad was going on about Rangers so we got back in the car and continued to the long (here we go in the car again) drive in order to appease Dad and his adventurous spirit. I did not see, could not see and even if I could I wouldn't have appreciated his fascination in seeing a large flock of pelicans majestically circling a thermal current higher and higher until the ones at the top were small specks in the sky. He would've watched this for hours. We would've killed him if he tried, so an in-effective picture was taken and we moved on. 

The road got boring (great slow TV footage apparently) and then the highlight - yes ! another ferry ! this time we had it all to ourselves and as such got a really good appreciation of how the whole operation works.

The road afterwards was also an interesting drive and Dad was having a great time cruising the roads without being inhibited by the kennel and listening to random music on his playlist.

Back at the kennel park by the lake - second night here and really settling in. It would be really enjoyable to spend a few days here in off season (it's the long weekend so we still have a fully booked situation place with a few large groups making parent based annoyances of themselves).

At sunset the Correllas are corralling themselves just outside of the park..Will they explode into a storm of screeching clouds again tonight? they are raising their voices - what will happen?

The wind was different today. Not the hot northerly being cooled as it traversed the lake but in the west where the ocean was lowering it's viciousness somewhat. Now its dropped off completely and the temperature is almost perfect and yet still has a feeling that it could be a restless night unless a breeze does pick up. I was unsettled. There was group of parents down at the lake where I splash that for some reason has piqued my interest. I was busting to go but Dad had me on his voice leash and so I hung around the kennel as good dogs do.

The Correllas didn't explode. Dad suggested to me that we should ride down there and throw a frisbee at them to see what happens, I said lets go do frisbee later in the dark and now go out for dinner instead. Which is what we did. Walked back to the same attached place as last night. Mum had her heart set on a Vietnamese noodle saladly thing that wasn't on the menu tonight. Tonight was pizza night. Dad could not come to grips with this because Friday night is Pizza night. Always has (since he got his pizza oven) and always will be (unless he's in Italy). Meningie in South Australia on a Sunday night does not cut the mustard. Even if they did put mustard on the pizza. Besides, it was too hot to think about that sort of food. So they had a squidy thing and burgery thing instead and seemed happy with the outcome. Me in the meantime sat around their feet restrained by an actual lead and made eye contact with the plethora of other dogs that had arrived. Kelpies ... thus they knew how to behave and I was showing them how as well.

We walked back through the kennel park with all its fabulously appointed kennels glistening in the sunset, with their little doggy pens keeping their totally untrained and thus always tied up (or seriously contained) dogs yelping in frustration that I should dare walk past them with such nonchalance of being a good dog. Money may buy you a kennel with an inside peeing post, a hot shower, a large screen TV connected via Elon's evil skynet but it won't buy you the freedom of living with a well trained dog.

Dad and I have a pact. Frisbee in the dark in the park - just over there. So we're off.

Pawnote:

With the half moon lighting up the surrounds and glistening off the calm waters of the horizon defining lake and a succulent night breeze wafting through the theater it was a show to behold. The pelicans were safely perched on their stands out off the shores whilst other water birds careened thier cries, echoeing through the stillness. Just me taking it all in with Dad occasionally focusing me with a subtle click of the fingers.

I'd caught enough frisbees to get exhausted and we just then trotted on along the banks of the lake to take in above. When we got back to the kennel it seemed that the world of the parents had all gone to sleep. Yet over in the distance that flock of Correllas was going off. Maybe Uncle Harry had flown back into town with some disturbing news from up Tail M Bend way, or maybe these guys just squabble the whole night long. I don't care because I'm not underneath them. The pelicans don't seem to care either. As the half moon heads towards its demise for the night and the landscape subsequently fades into total darkness I have no idea of what will transpire as I will be snoring asleep on the cool floor of my portable kennel with Mum and Dad snoring in rythym with me.

Two Ferries

On the road again - with Willie Nelson's song resonating in the background radio of our minds it was up as early as just before the sun in order to have to actually be somewhere at a particular time. It's this sort of stress that we have holidays to get away from - according to Mum and Dad - I don't actually have the capacity to think far enough ahead beyond (say) the next 15 minutes and therefore if I was actually in charge of the the timing here we would've possibly have missed the ferry. The here and the now is the space I operate in and due to my genealogy I do it very well. Thank you very much.

It appears that the local ants are extremely keen on expanding their species - we kept finding swarms of them everywhere i.e. half built nests within the support structures of the kennel extension. Pity the poor neighbors who had to put up with our packing up noises. The sounds of the floor mats being tightly coerced into the into the crinkly sounding plastic bag definitely got our ant fetish neighbor up and at 'em. They were polite enough not to mention it of course through the neighborly banter that occurs in these kennel parks. I was told not to lick their hands when contact was first established (geebers, that's really hard not to do Dad - why is it so bad?). My parents had calculated an hour and a half from get up to packed up and were pretty close by the time we'd pulled out of the kennel park with ours in tow. A slight delay while Dad attached the extension mirrors which he forgot about in the confusion and away we went. On the road again. With that goddamn song still there in the background.

After checking in with Grandma and Grandpa last night Dad had filled the water tank with more (well... water) and turned the steering assist off. And the rig now flowed a whole lot safer so it seems. Didn't take too long before realising that this wasn't a total free ticket to ride (no background songs there) as a tricky S bend on a down hill slope made him realise he still needed to fully concentrate. So the whole rig all flowing quite smoothly now - with the understanding that on steep uphills the engine is getting close to the limits of it's capabilities. Seems like the guys who backed it onto the ferry all either had just bought one or wanted to, so that was a fun conversation Dad had.

We'd stopped at the town of Penneshaw so Mum could run off and get the obligatory morning cafe dispensed caffination hit, time was ticking but of course there was no real hurry - unlike the other end, this end we were parked under the shade of some seriously big pine trees while we waited for the ferry to arrive, unload and then load all the waiting vehicles. It's absolutely extraordinary how many cars, caravan's, motor homes, etc can fit in this thing - and yet they all do. I got to intently watch the whole thing unfold from by prime position in the back seat.

And so we we left Kangaroo Island - without seeing a real one. I wasn't overly concerned about this as I've seen them before, met them, talked to them about their lives and dreams for a better future and fully understand that there are kangaroo genes somewhere in my DNA as well - so I wasn't really expecting anything more by actually being on their island, but still... surely they didn't name the place because of a silo painting.

The ferry across to the mainland was a nice calm crossing with the seas glistening in the bright sunlight and a warm northerly breeze was carrying the heat and the scents of the mainland mixed with coolness of the water of which it had washed across. Nothing out out the ordinary for this old experienced sea dog. Some people tend to shy away from me (no idea why but I don't care) others seam to gravitate to me and actually encourage me to lick them. Dad always steps in here and tells me not to. It's very confusing, however I do seem to meet a whole lot of people who are ready and willing to scratch my ears when I sit on their feet.

After driving off the ferry we headed up the steep hills from Cape Jervis and over the unpronounceable peninsular to avoid Victor Harbor (been there, done that beach) and wound our way around the big lakes that feed into the Coorong. This was awkward because Dad did not want to go all the way up to Tail M bend (he likes my tail exactly the way it is thank you - and so do I) and so we were in hands of the talking lady behind the dashboard. It was a little stressful when we had to traverse a few dirt roads but the rig held together well, at much slower speeds - even though we had a timeline - there was free live music in our future kennel site and we would not want to miss out on that! So whilst we'd managed (quite nicely) to meet one hard timeline we were still under pressure to meet another.

We found a place on the side of a hard and fast sealed backroad to get the rig just off the bitumen to have lunch in the kennel. This was a real shock - the heat outside was a blasting 38 degrees, the northerly wind careening over the endless parched paddocks was hammering into us as we alighted from the comfort of the aircon'd car. I'm a kelpie. Hardened cattle dog. Bred for tough conditions and can work all day in them. This is my country. It's in my DNA....... stuff that - straight into the kennel and lying on the coolish floor in the shade for me. Toughness has it's limits when you're also given smarts in your genes. So Mum and Dad feasted on a delicious tuna and chick pea salad whilst I was daydreaming about catching frisbees in nice cool surf beaches.

The lady in the console threw us a curve ball when she said "and then catch the ferry" on the road ahead. What the ?!! The last ferry trip cost us about a grand and was planned months ahead. How do we do this? Will it sink? Do they take caravans? Do we have to book? How much will we have to pay? How long will it take" Will we miss our free music in the kennel park because of unexpected delays? Will we actually have to drive up through blinking Tail M Bend anyway because of this? Do we have to pay the Ferryman before we get to the other side? arrgghhh - the stress levels went higher than the scorching temperatures outside. Dad kept a steady hand on the wheel and an even foot on the pedals (he's learning the art of coercing the rig) whilst Mum did an internet search (she's learning the art of gleaning information on the fly) and found out that these things are the norm, free and only a 10 minute delay.

I went back to sleep. I did wake up though when we got to Wellington because something was going on. The trip across the river took about 5 minutes - we were nice citizens and stayed in the car. Pretty happy though that we'd done two ferry's on one day. If Mum (who was in charge of the music) had've played Avalon - that would've been three - but she didn't and so the post title stands.

Heading down south on the old no.1 highway (now relegated to B1 due to it's coastal behaviors) the harsh dry flat landscape came into the fore yet again. All the lakes are salt pans (rub your hands together you miners - thar be precious minerals under there...). Nothing grows out here but salt bushes and roads. the first being organic and the second being the opposite. With that hot northerly pushing us along the rig was sort of behaving itself - still felt like at any opportunity it would seriously start misbehaving, so by the end of the day Dad was feeling a bit pooped. Luckily, there is no secondary meaning to that, as I (as a dog) don't have that plastic bag dexterity capability.

We actually stopped (from speed) at a pink lake that wasn't pink. Took a photo to prove the point. I suggested that they should've put a sign further back up to road saying "warning - misleading tourist signage ahead".....It's really annoying when I come up with these really cool smart-arse ideas from the back seat and all they hear is "woof", and so they ignore me and think they had the original idea. 

And so we trundled into the town or Meningie and are now in their kennel park. It is chock-a-block as it is the long weekend. There is so much happening here it's hard to know where to start. I spent about an hour watching Mum and Dad set up the kennel - all the whilst listening to the booming voice of the guy sitting in a chair drinking beers and talking incessantly about stuff that I have no idea about. That was at 3:30 pm. It's now 11:30pm and he has not stopped. The heat is oppressive. We've got the fan in the box on the wall blowing air around - it helps with breeze but mostly it drowns out that continuous dribble that this dude keeps expounding. Pretty sure even the people who are with him would like him to shut up as well, but they keep prompting him. One line or one question and then we have a least 15 minutes of a story about water skiing on the Murray river and why person X had some sort of lesson the learn from situation Y... Fill in the gaps yourself.

Dad says welcome to Bogan Villa - I don't think he's referring to the flowering plant that adorn the ancient picturesque walls of the towns within the Greek Islands.

Whilst we (well Mum and Dad - I was lying on the cool grass trying to stay cool) were setting up the kennel, the live music started up over in the middle of the camp grounds. He is really good and really talented. He can play any popular song, by any artist, all in exactly the the same key, and pretty much to the same rhythm. According to Dad this signifies a very special talent. The highlight of the whole set (and yes - he played for about 5 hours to a crowd of, say one person per hour) was ... yes unbelievable poignancy  .. On the road again, just can't wait to get on the road again... Go Willie ! the crowd goes wild 

On the bright side (there are plenty here) - the place is visually spectacular. The lake is really shallow so I can run in as far as the ball can be thrown. Mum took me down whilst Dad was stuffing around the kennel and I just quite simply fell in love with place. Water, miles and miles of it, all flat, and it's stinking hot so it's really cool standing here in it, looking at you, trying my mind tricks like "throw the ball" or "throw the stick"... she didn't have anything to throw, but I was so happy just to be wet I didn't care. I enticed Dad down later with a ball and then we really got in to it.

We went down for (the parents) dinner afterwards at a cafe/bar/restaurant attached to the kennel ground. On the way past our musician was still belting out his songs. Already pretty much destroying Cold Chisel, Paul Kelly, Slim Dusty, Elvis, Willie Nelson, Frank Sinatra, Mike Brady, Dr Hook just to name few, Mum pointed out that we hadn't actually paid for it and Dad counteracted with the fact that we were paying for it right now. ... He'd stopped by the time we came back from dinner.

At which, was situated outside on a lawn and I entertained a couple of young parents - especially a 5 year old girl who needs (and will have) her own dog pretty soon. Dad spotted an AFL football left behind by some previous kid and suggested they use this to play with me. Well it all went a bit pear shaped from there. Mostly because it was a soft nerfball type ball and every time I picked it up it got destroyed a bit more. So when the kid comes back tomorrow to get the ball they left behind it will be totally disheveled. The young parents (at 5 years old she could still control me) did a great job of playing with me and paying sibling rivalry games with me. I don't care. I'm a good dog and will come back and sit under the table when told to. I also proved that I can easily and quite happily give the ball back to the parent that is playing with me - however never to Mum or Dad - I have an aversion with that.

It was a spectacular sunset - the screeching Correllas overhead seemed perfectly natural here (as compared to the destruction of the imported plane tress at home recently) and we're still finding those travelling ants in everything. They're keen - so is Dad in finding every one of the invasive little critters....maybe he's the one with the ant fetish?

So it took up to 12:15 am for the Bogunvillias next door to finally shut and go to bed - and guess what- the loud mouth dude who has to keep talking the whole of his waking life is sleeping in a swag. Right next to us. How do we know this? because his snoring when he's asleep is almost louder than the continuous verbiage of when he's awake.

Good thing I'm a dog - so this sort of parent stuff doesn't bother me.

One Pooped Pooch

OK, I'll admit it. I may have overstretched myself today. and as a result I'm absolutely pooped. Worn out. Have no energy to do anything but lay here in my nice furry bed on the floor of the kennel and let the body system recover and reset. Mum and Dad step over me as I'm totally in the way and yet they don't seem to mind. Dad even sometimes holds my hand with his foot as he pounds away on that keyboardy thing up above. He says he's "blogging". I say he can do what ever likes just so long as he doesn't step on my face when he gets up to refill his glass. It's a very compact space this little kennel of ours, but it's home and I love it.

First thing this morning after breaky (which was the same half a cup of the same dried pellets that I've had every day of my life - not complaining mind you - just saying) I herded Mum and Dad into town on their fold up bikes. This was really good fun as I love a good run because that's what we Kelpies are bred to do. I know this instinctively - everyone else knows this because they are told so in Kelpie Museums and shows like Muster Dogs (which, by the way, spend way too much time focusing on the parents, not on the dogs themselves... I mean seriously - they never interview the dogs, get their opinions etc. to me the whole thing is way too parent biased) anywoof - I digress... We ran into town along a very nice pathway winding along the shoreline and this is where my opportunity to poop really came to the fore. It's easy to say I was pooped but taking it to another level (mostly just to annoy Dad .. heh heh) I actually stopped and pooped three times on the way! It's a great delaying tactic because I know he has to stop and pick it up. So while he's doing that I can stop running some more and wander around the spot sniffing the smells of all the critters that live there. Mum was up front and often had to wait while we dealt with all these pooping scenarios.

Our mission was to get to the cafe to repeat yesterdays parents caffination experience - replete with the same toasted fruit bread, spread with marmalade infused butter.

This worked out all extremely well and we then walked the bikes around the corner to the art gallery so Mum could go inside and I could get anxious being outside (even though Dad was with me and trying to get me to pose for yet another photo). The ride back along the coastal path was slower as I was seriously getting tired, was still pretty happy though that I got another poop out on the way. So far that's four poops in one outing! I'm excelling myself here. I love a challenge. I'm a Kelpie. Bring it on I say.

Back at the kennel, it wasn't too long before we all leapt into the car again and spent an hour on some very straight roads heading to a place called Stokes Bay. When we got there it was truly uninspiring. The beach was covered in rocks and seaweed. One very small patch of sand amongst it all and this was meant to be a swimming highlight of the island! Disenchanted and thinking we'd need to spend another hour going back to Emu bay we walked up to the beach cafe (which was also supposedly highly rated) and met our neighbor from the kennel park (the one with ant fetish). Who explained that the good beach was actually around the point, through some caves and well worth the effort to get there.

All good it seems. So I sat under yet another table in the sand whilst Mum and Dad above shared a stupendous serving of garlic pawns and chips with a side of aolie sauce and a side of salad. I can't even comprehend what that all means - possibly along the lines of - it was as good as a bone.

After that, the true adventure ensued. back to the car so they could change their chameleon coverings and gathering all the essential items for a play on the beach: Frisbee - check. Ball - check. Water for me - check. Shade - check (although only required when I'm absolutely totally pooped). Towel for me to lay on when totally pooped - check.. Anything else - I don't care ! hurry up ! let's go ! this is important ! there is serious stuff to get done on the beach here and you're stuffing around changing your chameleon coverings whilst hiding your private bits using the open doors of the car as privacy screens in a public car park like there is no urgency! Eventually I got them going even though we had to stop and Dad had to go back and get some poop bags just in case. I was all pooped out at that point, but didn't want to argue the point.

Though the rocks we went, very tight crevices and overhangs to emerge on what could only be described as the best beach ever. For me. Not only did it have the usual glistening white sand with gentle waves rolling onto a nice flat sand bar (great for catching frisbees and landing with a splash) but also a natural large tidal pool that I could learn to swim in by retrieving balls).

My excitement was palatable and once I dragged my parents away from the neighbors we got into some serious Kelpie beach fun times. This is my fun place. Get me on a beach and I demand to be entertained - And I will do every aerobatic trick I know to the extent of the limits of my abilities. So the few people there were obviously impressed with my frisbee catching capabilities. 

What really surprised me was Mum taught me how to swim! The fact that it was in front of strangers didn't resonate with me because I have no social inhibitions. I am a dog after all. So Mum got me swimming though the calm waters of the rook pool as if I was an otter building a dam. Dam be damned - all I wanted was to get the ball back onto the bank, have a good shake down and go again.

This was all very exhausting stuff and I was feeling a bit pooped as we (well yes.. OK, then - "they") packed up the umbrella and all the other stuff and headed back to the car. Was pretty happy with myself though in that I managed to drop another poop on the sand just before leaving the beach. So Dad had to drop all the kit, rummage for the previously mentioned bags, scoop the poop (there were people watching - thinking "the sign says Dogs must be on a leash - and that dog isn't - and he's just shat right in front of us - who do I call to rectify this injustice"?) and then navigate his way through the tight crevices, scraping the umbrella against the rock walls whilst juggling a smelly bag of poop along with all the bags and sandals he was carrying. Five (extremely well timed) poops in one day. There was one earlier on before this diatribe so I'm pretty much all pooped out after all up six in one day. 

On the way back to the kennel we stopped at a KI Gin distillery and I got to sit under a table whilst they had paddles of the wares of the place.

It was nice surroundings however I was agitated as I wanted to be fed (obviously had an empty belly) and a drink would be nice as well. So I nagged at them to get me satisfied. I was told to shut up. So I did. I'm a good dog. Then, after a bit, I nagged a little bit more because then I was bored as well as being and hungry and thirsty.

So as the afternoon sun rays gently wafted through the green foliage overhead and spread their radiance of joy and warmth throughout the gin aligned botanically planted gardens with tasting tables seemingly strewn throughout yet studiously arranged to ensure an ambiance which encourages a purchase of the wares upon exit, I nagged Mum and Dad to get out of there and meet my needs (whatever they were). Once again I was told to shut up, however it was time to go anyway (according to them) and I was a good dog and healed on a short lead in the shop whilst Mum and Dad fell victim to the ambiance with their credit card.

Back at the kennel we packed up the extension in preparation for tomorrows evacuation and then headed into town to execute the previously mentioned plans. Mum got to satisfy her food envy and I got to satisfy my need to lay underneath the restaurant table while she did so.
I could ramble on some more about bikies in the campsite and another wander down the beach at sunset - but I'm pooped. I have pooped (lots) and I am therefore pooped. Thus I sleep.