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.
1 comment:
Love the bridge!
Post a Comment