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.
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. An 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 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.....
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