The world is Leo's toilet

$20, a wayward German Shorthaired Pointer and a cock 'n' crap ...

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.

Then and Now

Then ...

Now ...

Two kelpies with extra salt please

We ll got up this morning and the sun was shining, the wind wasn't blowing and all was well with the world ...

(except that today is my 31st birthday)

(god that sucks)

As it looked like being such a beautiful day

(and as a way of forgetting that I am now even more freakin older than I was yesterday), we decided to take the puppies out on the boat on the Elliott River.

From the moment that Paul started up the boat and opened up the garage doors, the pups knew something was up.

Kinta is constantly at war with small engines and flips out whenever one starts up.

She used to try and bite the tyres of the quad bike on the farm and would bark at it whenever Paul started it up.

The mower and whippersnipper also incur her wrath.

All it took today was for her to hear the beep of the outboard and she launched into what we like to call "All Two-strokes Must Die".

However, this doesn't stop Kinta launching into the water and swimming like Thorpey on crack.

(Or what I imagine Thorpey on crack to swim like if he was on crack, which of course he isn't)

Leo is more of a poser than an athlete at the beach ... he just struts around on the shore in his white budgie smugglers, showing off his doghood to the laaadies.

But they both HATE it when one of us goes completely underwater. I was snorkelling on the surface today and when I went under Leo came swimming toward me barking and trying to touch my head.

When Paul jumped off the side of the boat to snorkel and the dogs and I stayed in the boat, Kinta went crazy yelping and barking and trying to jump over the side to reach him.

Anway, lots of fun had by all and we now have two very salty, very tired dogs in the backyard.


Kinta: "Thank heavens you're back Captain. I was about to throw Commander Kris in the brig and assume control of this vessel. Seaman Leo: as you were."

Leo:

"In the navy Yes, you can sail the seven seas

In the navy Yes, you can put your mind at ease

In the navy Come on now, people, make a stand

In the navy, in the navy Can't you see we need a hand

They want you, they want you, they want you as a new recruit ...

Holy shit that's a big bird!"

Beware of killer camels

We have just returned from an Easter break in Victoria and Brisbane, hence the absence of dogblog updates.

While in Victoria I had another one of my extremely disturbing "Leo gets murdered" dreams.

I have had many dreams in which Leo meets his maker (hence taking him away from his mummy).

This one is a cracker ...

Ok. So here's how it played out ....

Two camels came charging up from the horizon and trampled Leo to death.

(Yes, camels.)

Then, as I am throwing myself over Leo's furry little body, weeping and cursing God, these goddam lowlife murdering camels ask me to help them transform back into humans.

(Yes, these camels could talk.)

And you know the weirdest thing about this dream?

(Yes, the weirdest is yet to come.)

These camels weren't just any camels.

These camels weren't your nasty-spitting-stinking-pay $10 for a ride at an ag show-camels.

These were celebrity camels.

The camels that trampled Leo to death were .....




TOYOTA RAV4 CAMELS!!

You're laughin' now pal ... but you won't be laughin when you incur the wrath of a momma avengin' the murderin' of her young-un.

Leo does ... well.. nothing special

Monday April 2, 2007

In an unprecedented move, Leo and Kinta have done nothing particularly remarkable for nearly a week now.

So, here are a few random photos from the fur kid family album.


Kinta: "I've told you a thousand times: no means no."
Leo: "Weeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Satan's sheepdog: Leo (right) at 16 weeks with Kinta

Sea dogs - at Elliott Heads, Queensland December 2006

Winter in Glen Innes, New South Wales, 2003

(they jumped straight in the water)

Leo gets the job done

Leo: "I could patrol the perimeter or I could keep the pigeons off the shed roof or I could even perhaps lie in wait under the house for a Mormon or two. But instead, I'm just gonna lie here ...

Right here in the middle of the yard where nobody will ever see me."

Kinta farewells her uterus (again)

Monday March 26, 2007

Today was pretty traumatic for Kinta.

Not only did she have to deal with another female on her turf (see story on The Moose below) but she had to say goodbye to her second uterus.

Come to think of it, she probably didn't say goodbye to her first uterus.

A strange man just patted her head until she just fell into a relaxing, drug-induced puppy sleep and when she woke up it was gone and she had stitches in her belly.

Her second uterus was our 1995 white Holden Rodeo ute.

Kinta and Leo loved that uterus. When Kinta heard the doors unlock, she knew that a uterus-propelled adventure was on the agenda.

This is the uterus that helped Kinta stalk and hurl abusive barks at trucks and vans on the many kilometres of highway between Bundaberg and Glen Innes.

Only trucks and vans, never cars.

Car stalking is for pussies.

This is the uterus that carried Kinta and Leo to the beach for long swims on weekend afternoons.

Kinta and Leo would hear the loud feral rumblings of the diesel uterus as I rounded the corner on the way home from work. They would be waiting at the gates to greet me, all big doggy grins and wagging tails.

Kinta, Leo and the Uterus in happier times










Kinta, Leo and the Uterus in not so happier times













And to answer your question, yes that is doggy diarrhoea.

Tonight when the new owners came to take possession of Kinta's second uterus, she was a bit concerned.

As the uterus drove towards the gate, Kinta dropped her toy and ran behind it, her eyes darting back and forth between it and us.

It was like she was saying "Why are they taking my ute? They aren't taking my ute are they? They are just borrowing it aren't they? Like that time Aunty Liz and Uncle Joe borrowed it to move house? Right dad? Right dad? Dad?"

We explained to Kinta that we had bought her a much newer, much faster, much more comfortable and much more bloody expensive blue uterus and she had best shut her furry mouth and show some darn appreciation.

She seemed to get over the loss of the white uterus pretty quickly.

(Of course she did Kris you crazy dog lady. Kinta's a dog ... a DOG)

But, I don't think she will ever forget the fun times she had in the white uterus.

Leo certainly won't forget the wave of Kinta's post-beach spray poo that slapped his doggy face at 100 kilometres per hour on the road between Elliott Heads and Bundaberg.