The happiness of your favourate pet – for me – my dog

A beautiful Maremma dog we met in the Bunya Mountains

Dogs are the most loyal, responsive, happiest, and also the silliest or naughtiest occasionally,  animal to own. Over the years my family and myself have owned a few different varieties of the four pawed canine.

Small varieties include sausage dog or a variety of dachshund that my parents owned before my father passed away. My father could do anything with this little dog, he sat where Dad sent him to, he submitted to Dad brushing away any fleas or ticks he had accumulated on their walks together. Dad ended up on a mobile scooter going down the road, and the dog would be sitting on it happily, or as equally happily trotting beside the small vehicle. Dad had looked after horses all his life and occasionally dogs and cats, and he had this amazing rapport with anything four legged.

Some of the dogs he acquired over the years were less successful. We had an absolutely crazy Border Collie, Dad was sure that it would be a good idea because it would love having walks. She was called Bonnie, and was always enthusiastic about anyone who paid her any attention and she lived in our kitchen, which was tiny, on her square of foam and blanket. She barked at the milkman and postman, every time. I loved taking her for walks, as we would go through the footpaths at the back of the area we lived to fields, or the local playing fields and we could let her off and she would go crazy. She had so much energy, she would run for miles. Then sadly we had to leave her behind, after she had been spade, which would have calmed her down. We were migrating to Australia.

In Australia we waited a while before acquiring dogs. One of the silliest animals Mum and Dad owned was a Basset Hound called Peter. I think my brother and littlest sister thought up the name, just to be silly. His biggest attribute was the ability to mark his territory with his pee. One day we were all home and my sister’s boyfriend had brought a cake for all of us, placed in a cardboard box, and he though he would surprise us by leaving it outside the front door, to eventually bring in. Peter considered that it was definitely smelled as if it needed marking and when Paul decided that he would produce his surprise he brought his offering in to my sister with a very obvious wet patch. We laughed so much we nearly collapsed. It was the funniest thing to have happened for a long time. The boyfriend stayed!

My first husband and I acquired a gorgeous, lovely Rhodesian Ridgeback male dog to accompany one daughter, two cats, chooks and assorted goats. That was ok as we had five acres and needed some animal to tear around it, and this dog was tied to a running chain from the house to his kennel, which was in a shady spot.

He hated being apart from us, his herd, and he would howl if we went down the road to visit anyone, Eventually he would stop howling and if you got away without him noticing, all would be well. He would put his whole head on your lap and look with loving brown eyes up to you.

We moved to Cairns and he came with us, and on the trip up he found a Salami sausage in the Esky and thought he would snack on it. As a result of him we had an ordinary rental up there, but we took him for walks every day, in the parks, drop him home so we could go swimming, or we would play in the parks. I had my second child with him around and both children adored him.

He got used to being in the back of the Land Rover with the occasional goat. He got shot at once, and the spine and vital organs were just missed. The neighbour took a pot shot as he was off the lead just once in all the years we owned him, and he had gone to their chook yard to investigate. Several hundred dollars later he took a while to recover, the neighbour came over to check on him, but we weren’t much impressed.

Eventually when my first marriage was over we had to put him down, as I couldn’t manage dog, cat, and children in a rental property with no fence. That was a very sad day for me, he was fine the vets were familiar, he just quietly went to the big dog heaven in the sky.

Since then we have had to borrow dogs, in that we vicariously own them through others. We have two grand dogs. A Spaniel and a Staffordshire Terrier, both very enthusiastic at chasing balls, and both great friends – they will fight over balls but sleep beside each other at night.

And last weekend there was Millie, I have fallen in love with Kelpie’s. I have no room for one, we only own a small house block. But I love them because they are so enthusiastic. She has an older, grizzled partner in crime, Nellie who is just as fast, but wears out quicker, Millie is brown and tan with a quizzical expression, and she is very trainable. She sits and lies down and loves to do what you ask. She didn’t bark when we came into her owners property, she and Nellie just raced up to us and jumped for joy to see more people. A Kelpie needs a farm, and acres to run in. These dogs have that and they are so happy. They chase the chooks and the big rooster pecks back telling Millie off! Millie doesn’t care she is doing things, making sure things are done, and is always ready for a pat. Her owner gave me a hammock to lie to to rest, and Millie had to check it out and see if I hadn’t disappeared.

Last but not least is the Maremma dogs. They are courageous, loving and supportive to their charges and the most quietest dogs ever, We stayed on a property in the Bunya Mountains for three nights and one slept on the front verandah of our hut the whole time. That was his night time spot and we tripped over him to go out on our little verandah for breakfast. One is pictured on the image for this blog entry, which is his brother or sister.

Recently we went to see one star in a movie called “Oddball”. Because this maremma decided that he liked little penguins and would protect them from sharp eyed foxes and any other critter that would swim to this island off Victoria and attack and destroy the colony of Fairy Penguins there. The National Parks have been experimenting with maremma and it works, the fairy penguins have started to reproduce again.

What more can I say….

“A dog teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance, and to turn around three times before lying down.” —Robert Benchley (humorist and actor, Broadway Melody of 1938)

The Happiness of Forgiveness

Image – Rembrandt – The return of the prodigal son

When your conscience is clear, life appears to be more relaxing, colours appear brighter, friends seem friendlier, and family is easier to live with. It’s just the process of managing the difficult parts of life that makes our conscience prickly, our friendships hard to negotiate and our family glower at us.

Conscience is a strange concept really, are we the only creatures with one? It can be defined as ” a built-in sense of what’s right and what’s wrong”. As humans we have memories for reliving situations when we were unfair, or angry and even more when other people were like that with us – we often respond thinking that others remember those situations as clearly as we do.

Some of us have a concept of a being outside of us, who knows everything we have done. Then we have this need to appease that being as well as our own conscience.

When we ask others what we have done to create tension in our relationships, we feel upset at the answers even though we may know deep inside that they are right. Often we know the answers already, we didn’t listen to them, we were too abrupt, we pushed past when we should have waited, we forgot to do, to say, to prepare something. We lead busy lives and we forget others do as well.

It always helps to forgive. And this is a prickly word for some of us, and for all of us at various times. When we were little it is a really hard word, because we are developing our sense of self, and we are upset when others seem to violate that. When we are older and we have gone through complex relationship issues or have had a divorce, or a death of a loved one, or when we are going through a traumatic set of circumstances which others create, it is a very hard word to think about.

In the Jewish calender this is the month of Elul, and it is a month known for introspection about the personal behaviour, thoughts and attitudes towards others and forgiveness of others. As I have been learning about this, I have had to think about my behaviour and ask forgiveness, as well as forgive others.

Happiness of getting around

This was the second small car to come into my life, after the failure of my first marriage and the destruction of my first brand new car ( a Mazda 121) in a very nasty accident, in which the car was totally destroyed after being rear ended by a much bigger company car, while I was attempting to turn, off a highway,  into my workplace.

This was not a very auspicious start for a life with my little blue car. Previously it had belonged to a blended family of seven little adults and the two parents. They knew me, and they had been tempting me with it for a few months. Obviously it was way too small for their demands and they desperately needed to sell it. I already had a car for my two children and myself, and had purchased it from the showroom floor, and it suited my needs perfectly. I had spent 13 years driving a Land Rover around in a very hot climate, with no air conditioning, with animals, and children in the back. Anything which was smaller and I could turn around in one go, plus sit in 20 degree comfort without sweat trickling down my front, and could listen to the radio or any CD I wanted too was absolute heaven.

So when a Blue nurse decided to end my trip to work by not concentrating and piling her company Ford Station wagon into the back of my little Mazda, I was slightly unhappy and almost terrified of driving again. Some very good friends comforted me and I was soon back on the road in a rented tub of a thing that stopped working round the corner from my house, and they had to bring me another one that actually worked.

Eventually a wise go between, organised my friends to on sell the car to me, we negotiated a very agreeable price. I soon got my Insurance payout and then I purchased the Electric Blue Festiva.

My husband has had the same type of situation recently  with a truck that he had fallen in love with. It didn’t have the same type of long history as my Mazda but it was a car he had almost started to play with. It was a white, diesel BT50 ute which he had already taken on a 4 wheel drive with a group of like minded friends and he had kept up with them and was really starting to enjoy his dream car.We had only had it a year after replacing a vehicle which we had ran a business with, this vehicle (a Kia truck) was a work beast and not a car we “enjoyed” it was one that was practical and useful.

So when we got the Mazda BT50, it was mostly used to drive him to drive to and from work, however one drive home he had a micro sleep and almost lost his life and definitely lost his beautiful dream car.

It rolled twice, very near to a dam. He was between vehicles so others watched the whole agonized process, and he had others race down and turn off the engine, one very nice girlfriend of another sat by him, to make sure he was ok. He had crawled out through shattered glass to sit by the truck and sit dazed, amazed that he had all his limbs, and no scratches even from the very terrifying ordeal others had watched him go through.

Hours later I picked him up at the Hospital Emergency Ward, in our first big marital purchase, a lovely British Racing Green Camry, that we had fallen in love with when we pooled our resources and bought a few years before. It was now our one and only vehicle and we fell in love with it all over again, it was safe, reliable and survived side wipe of a rear ender and a few other disasters like a big nasty hailstorm and a minor flood. The key being “survive”.

We finally last week replaced his dream car with a Mitsubishi Pajero and it has been christened Kev ( a play on the number plate) and we rechristened our Camry Kim. We hope that this will be exactly the same history as that cute little Festiva, giving us many happy family hours enjoying four wheel drives, picnics and long trips. Very definitely our lives are very much fashioned by the cars that we drive.

The Happiness of writing

Karen Blixen was a story teller, and loved to write – I love her story Babette’s Feast which has all the ingredients of a good story. Simple storyline, very beautifully drawn characters, and clarity of expression. It looks so easy but it is so hard to get right when I try to write …   I think one of the clues is to stop worrying about grammar, historical accuracy, even location but just write what is in your heart about the characters.

I went to Karen’s house in Copenhagen recently, and found another clue, she has a peaceful, large garden which is a bird sanctuary, a very cosy house with plenty of space,  and a lovely sea view. Each different space would lend itself to dreamy contemplation of people and lives, maybe ones own life, maybe others stories.

The only way to write is in solitude which can be hard when you have work, and family and lots of activity in your life at various times.  Karen lived in Africa and Denmark, totally different environments. One harsh, tropical climate, wild animals, and a culture that was colonial at the time. Denmark has a wildness which is temperate on the coast, but is very domesticated and tame. Her stories are set in both climates and locations.

She loved to tell stories to her family, friends and children. There is a need to use your imagination and what better way than to excite children about life and adventure than in a story.

She was a voracious reader, and her library tells a story about her liberal mind and her appetite for any sort of story. It went right back to Roman times and it was obvious she enjoyed a wide range of books.

Hi everyone – welcome to my blog

How do you thank someone who gives you a gift from their heart, and is a total stranger?

I like to think that I am a generous person, I love my husband and children, (step and my own) and my elderly Mum. When I am with them I do pay for meals, and I give gifts. But I was very much challenged today, when I went to my daughter’s church to listen to a speaker that I always enjoy. He speaks on worship and always has a timely message.

I was given a coffee, by my daughter, and I admired a pendant necklace of the lady behind the counter of the coffee bar.

“It’s my tree of life and a favourite pendant of mine”

“oh, it’s a tree” I said, only admiring the design and colour.

This lady saw that I was a visitor to her church. We have a regular church we attend, so we are used to services and people talking to us. But as I was new and so was my husband we were observed by those who were interested in us. She saw how we enjoyed the singing and she gave the pendant to my daughter to give to me, feeling that I should have a cherished, favourite item of hers.

I really do like this “Tree of Life” – it has meaning in my heart that is broader than the reality of a few orange/pink beads fashioned into branches and fruit, with a lovely carved, wooden brown trunk. It signifies an abundant life, and generosity of spirit. The very values that brought this lovely gift from the unselfish, lovely spirit of the lady who decided to bless it to me.

It challenged me at my very core – because I don’t think I would have done this to someone else…..and I think I should be able to.  I have a heart for others but in many ways I have stifled this active generosity that even my little grandchild has more of in her little heart.

It has challenged me in my home in attitudes to my husband and family, and life in general. Not so much my workplace because I think that I am generous about helping others, but then why there – is it because I get materially paid for my efforts?   I can be generous at home with food, but with money and other things it is harder as we have budget constraints, and having been a “Single” mum, and an older sister, my ideas tend to the constraint, and less generous side of budgets.  I have shared my home in the past with many “orphan” children, exchange students from overseas, boarding children from visiting schools, Rotary exchange students all connected to my family. I have been generous with my time and hopefully they have felt needed and supported. Relations and family are welcome in my home, where I try to give an atmosphere of support and encouragement, and a place of rest and recuperation from the busy universe.

Is this enough? Is this why I am find it excruciatingly difficult to write a “novel” but really easy to pen a few words about a small gift?

Hello world!

I am practising writing in order to build confidence in self expression. I am writing a novel, and attending a course on writing, however it really helps to get immediate response from others as well. Feel free to share your thoughts and let me know what you think about my ideas! Looking forward to seeing your thoughts as well…