This best describes our Saturday afternoon.
Wanting to give our furkids the physically and mentally-enriching experience of a bush walk ...
(and because we couldn't be arsed having our shoulders dislocated by amphetimine-fuelled kelpies on a mission to pee on as many bushes and sniff as much dirt as possible while still trying to run flat out on a leash)
... we took the dogs on an afternoon walk to a local nature park.
Leisurely? Never.
Eventful? Hell yeah.
Involving poo and pee? Always!
Realising that I hadn't posted a dog blog for a couple of weeks, I took the camera on what is normally a pretty mundane event.
But, luckily, not today.
Exhibit Number One: This is how our dogs "roll" ...
After alighting at the nature park
(did anybody, ANYBODY detect the "COPS" reference there?)
the dogs did their customary thing of running ahead of us, turning around and running back, running ahead of us again, diverting into the bush when something smelled interesting, then running back to us again ... you get the idea.
Well, this is what Kinta does.
Leo runs ahead ... stops ... turns around and goes back ... does a pee ... scratches up some dirt ... assures himself that he has still got "it"... starts running again ... stops ... turns around and goes back ... does another pee .. scratches up some dirt ... etc etc.
Waaay too much XXXX Gold.
Anway, I was trying to capture the "post-pee scratching up the dirt ecstasy" on camera as it really is quite magical ... (sort of like the doggy equivalent of a really good burn-out)
But, the little bastard either wouldn't scratch up or I missed it with the camera.
I ask Paul to "mark" a tree for me to encourage Leo to urinate (hey, it works in the back yard when we have bbqs).
Paul said no.
Then it happened ... I was all 100% Steve Parrish with the camera ... Leo approaches the bush ... he sniffs .. he cocks his leg ...
he executes what I believe to be the first ever witnessed ...
"cock 'n' crap".
Picture it.
Cock.
Then.
Crap.
I was too busy laughing to take the photo.
Moving right along ... a German short-haired pointer dog emerged from the bush shortly after.
We tried to coax it over to us as we could hear its owner calling it.
But, this pooch took one look at us, remembered watching "Wolf Creek" and ran back to his owners.
In a My Name is Earl-esque moment, I then found a $20 note on the track.
The My Name is Earl reference is because I lost $20 out of my pocket a couple of months ago when I was walking Leo in the ghetto ...
(Bundaberg streets between Walker, Targo, Boundary and the CBD)
... and a feral dog ran towards us teeth bared and snarling while his feral owners looked on.
Karma baby, Karma.
(Karma swiftly translated into 3 x Jacobs Creek whites for $20 at the Old Bundy Tavern)
Poo aside, it was a nice walk and here are some nice, 100% poo reference-less photographs with which to finish this post:
Leo: "Can't-talk-now-smell-dead-bird"
Cue that music from that scene in Rainman where Tom Cruise has kidnapped Dustin Hoffman from that mental home ..
Perfect specimens of Kelpiness ... smart arse comments unrequired.
