An Island Off an Island

Antarctic Gateway

Jan

December 24, 2021

Antarctica has been on my bucket list for as long as I can remember. To date the closest I have gotten to ‘The Ice’ is vicariously through Regina and Suz’s photos when they made their grand tour, and a magic view of the ice floes on a trip from Sydney to Johannesburg a few years ago.

Australia’s new Antarctic Icebreaker the RSV Nuyina arrived in its home port of Hobart in late October. Grand celebrations were planned with a flotilla ready to welcome her and vantage points advertised. I had a 6am date with Ruby to go down to the Point to get a good view of her on her way up to Hobart. Sadly fate in the form of a snap 3 day COVID lockdown combined with a fog you could slice with a knife put paid to that! After hours of tracking her progress I was just able to pick her out from the kitchen window in Storm Bay heading up the Derwent. Even a fog finds it hard to disguise something so big and well, orange!

Since her arrival Nuyina has dominated the Hobart waterfront but today she heads south to Antarctica on her first voyage carrying 67 expeditioners and crew to refuel Casey research station, transport helicopters to Davis research station and undertake marine science commissioning. In the following days the French vessel MV L’Astrolabe and the US icebreaker Aiviq which has been chartered by the Aussies will follow in her wake.

Glimpsed between the trees as she arrived in Tasmania and in Hobart

Hobart is one of five global Antarctic gateway cities (the others are Cape Town (South Africa), Christchurch (New Zealand), Punta Arenas (Chile) and Ushuaia (Argentina)), and the impact of the frozen continent to the south is highly visible through the presence of government agencies and educational programs. The Australian Antarctic Division headquarters are located at Kingston (our local service centre) conveniently between Bunnings and Mitre 10. I say conveniently as I have an image of a research station phoning up to say they need something and a staff member popping over to one of these super stores, putting it on the account and placing the item on the relevant shelf for the next courier delivery- that’s what we would have done in the library! I guess the logistics of transporting something to Davis is slightly more complicated!

The Australian Antarctic Program is currently recruiting for the 2022/23 season. I did check it out but it would seem that the need for a library consultant of a certain age is limited. Shame really as imagine the blog posts I could write!

Safe travels to all those heading south.

Highways and byways

Jan

4 comments

December 21, 2021

School is out and the traffic in front of 87 Bruny Island Main Road has increased – well expediently would be an over exaggeration! Let’s say there are one or two additional cars and the odd caravan with every load disgorged from the ferry. Wainui sits right on the entry to Dennes Point where the gravel switches to bitumen and the speed drops down from 80 to 40 (though 80 is optimistic or down right suicidal on much of the 11km of bends between us and the main drag). We lounge on the deck and identify the tourists (who generally slow down as they enter the settlement), and the locals who maintain speed until they hit the first bend with its ‘Slow’ sign painted on the back of an old real estate board. Just to reinforce the fact a second slow sign is a 100 metres or so down the hill. Between 7.30 pm and 6 am when Bruny is sealed off from the world (ie the ferry doesn’t run) the road is mostly silent.

By comparison the alternative highway that passes the house, the D’Entrecasteaux Channel, is busy at all hours of the day and night. Having recently come to this conclusion we are trying to prove ourselves wrong but just when we exclaim ‘no craft on the water,’ we’ll see the flash of a tinny out fishing, the sail of a yacht on the horizon or hear the distinctive thump of a power boat moving through the swell. The sheer variety (and beauty) of many of these vessels is a delight and the telescope and binoculars are always on hand, as is my new favourite app, Deckee, which helps me work out who they are.

The Channel is very much a working highway and the fleet that in our house is collectively referred to as ‘The Ronjas’ are in constant movement servicing the fish farms in the Channel and out into Storm Bay. The ‘Ronjas’ are named after the Ronja Storm which is owned by Huon Aquaculture and is in perpetual motion past the house. She is pretty impressive even though we hate what she and her minions represent.

Last week the quality of ship on our stretch of waterway went up a notch when HMAS Hobart called in over several consecutive days – a bit eerie to look out into the early morning and see a guided missile destroyer slowly cruising past. Those of you who have read Heather Rose’s novel, Bruny, won’t be surprised to learn that I was supposing all sorts of secret squirrel behaviour on the go. Maybe the fish farms were about to blow up? I think the reality was more simply that they were doing the ship equivalent of a plane’s holding pattern before they could enter Hobart. Oh well, imagination is a fine thing!

With love from Bruny xx

Christmas is Coming for Ruby

Marcus

no comments

December 13, 2021

It’s the time of the year when the spectre of the jolly fat man in the red suit is evoked with the sole purpose of reminding me that I have to be ‘good’ in order for him to stop by my basket (substitute human’s bed) on the 25^th. I think that my American friend, Auntie Rhoda , had the right idea by sending me a Christmas tree decoration with a picture of me and the words “Define Naughty” on it. Thankfully the whole concept of bribery in December is rather subjective and totally lost on me. I can tell you now, that if mince pies are left out for Santa on Christmas Eve, they won’t survive the night and he’ll be sadly disappointed. The reindeer are welcome to the carrots. We Labradors are not keen on the vegan option.

So, has my behaviour been worthy of Santa’s consideration? Again, one has to be smart (cunning) about this. If you give M&D something to gush about and tell all their friends about, any small misdemeanor can usually be forgiven. Let me give you an example.

Being a country dog, I had little experience with large bodies of water. So, when we moved here, I suspect that M&D believed the Labrador in me would show itself and I would immediately take to swimming. Well, I was, and still am, very wary of all that water. I like paddling and getting wet up to my tummy, but any deeper and I start to panic. But, after a year, I thought it was about time to literally ‘take the plunge’. With my mates Mia and May, I was so committed to chasing a ball that I didn’t realise I was out of my depth – and yes – I was swimming!

There was much videoing and sounds of delight from M&D that I knew I would have ‘credit in the ‘behaviour bank’. Many family members and friends were subjected to boring, blow-by-blow descriptions of my new found skill. I have also largely been trusted to be allowed off-leash on the beach. Yet more brownie points.

Unfortunately, some of this credit has been spent with minor infractions such as chewing Dad’s sock, several toilet rolls shredded under the bed, the odd ballerina cloth eaten and my penchant for waking the whole household in the middle of the night by quoll hunting on the deck.

All in all, I think I’m on the plus side of the behaviour ledger and I am looking forward to discovering what Santa will be leaving me come Christmas morning. (I really don’t care as long as it includes food.)

Love from the Island

Ambulances

Marcus

13 comments

November 1, 2021

One of the concerns we had initially about moving to Bruny Island was its relative isolation in terms of health facilities. Most of our fears have since been allayed due to the excellent Health Centre at Allonnah. There still remained the question of an emergency situation. Could the local services cope?Well, I’m going to answer that question with a resounding “Yes”!

On Saturday I was erecting a new set of shelves in my workshop under the house. No gory accidents with power tools or falls from a ladder, just a step down off a set of steps and something jarred or jammed in my already dodgy hip that totally immobilised my leg with a great deal of pain. The slightest movement was agony. Jan eventually arrived from the studio and She helped to get me on a chair.All fairly pedestrian up until now but the comedy of errors was about to unfold. What follows is not meant to be a criticism of any sort – quite the opposite.

Jan rang triple zero and the ambulance ( which is operated by volunteers) arrived in less than twenty minutes – two ambulances . It just so happened that the big ambulance was on the island for training purposes, so it’s crew responded as did the recently appointed paramedic and the emergency nurse.So we had Mary, Margaret, Tam, Clare and Kaitlin all in attendance.

With four ambulances in the street and driveway, the whole neighbourhood had been alerted to the unfolding drama.The plan was to back the ambulance under the house, put the stretcher in the workshop and from there, into the ambo (with me on it). Unfortunately, in formulating this plan, everyone’s input into how it was to be achieved resulted in the ambo getting bogged in the loose gravel of the drive. They finally manoeuvred me into an SUV via a wheelchair.

Once I had been dispatched and transferred to yet another ambulance at the ferry, Lee and our neighbour “Chainsaw”(Justin) from the SES and his tractor were summoned to ‘unbog’ the vehicle.

Lying in Hobart Private Hospital I can only marvel at the enthusiasm and alacrity of all involved. Thanks to everyone in the rescue mission and much appreciation for all the well-wishers.No prognosis yet on what has caused my condition but I suspect only rest will be the solution.

A CHANGE OF TACTICS

Marcus

2 comments

October 23, 2021

Hi Friends, Ruby here.

Most people agree that a Labrador starts to become a little more settled after about two years. I am nearing my fourth birthday and I must say that I don’t subscribe to meaningless stereotypes. I mean, much to M&D’s relief, there has been a certain dampening of wild and derelict physical behaviour, but I have interspersed it with more subtle and enigmatic practices that really keep them on their toes. Let’s say Ruby has commenced a phase of unpredictable, psychological guerrilla warfare to keep M&D in a perpetual state of frustration and dismay, and its all designed to retain me as ‘front and centre’ in our family!

As usual, I need to regale you with a few anecdotes to illustrate my progress in this regard. I still employ the tactic of randomly throwing myself off the lounge and diving under furniture to get attention. This always results in M or D (or both) joining me under tables and beds with soothing words, cuddles and more importantly, tasty snacks. They must feel that if I am willing to eat something. I can’t be too sick. (I’m a Labrador for God’s sake – I’d have to be dead before I refused food!)

Another favourite pastime has been to run away as soon as the door or gate is left open. Who remembers the great escape of a few months ago when I ran D ragged all over the farm, neighbours and beach for 3 whole hours? The consequences were not pretty. Now, I realise that I can have some freedom without being yelled at or smacked – in fact I can be rewarded. It works like this. If you sneak out of the gate at home, you don’t just take off but rather just stay out of reach and move around at your own pace, making sure to stay on our property. The other day I did this and ended up down the front where I am rarely allowed to go. The weed-infested pond was fun and I even found a dead bird which was a real bonus. You know after a while that M&D are so relieved for you to be caught that you will get a treat for doing so. Same applies at the beach – just run off a little way, look over your shoulder with a glint of the devil in your eye and lo and behold, out come the snacks.

With my chauffeur on our way to adventure!

The last example of these new ‘science of the mind’ tactics has so far prevented M&D from sending me to kennels overnight. I now show my displeasure at even being left alone for a day by manic barking and wailing on their return. I think they believe that I do this the whole time they’re away. In actual fact, I’m so drugged up on the tranquillisers they sneak into me that I sleep the whole time they are away. I have been known to sleep so deeply that I pee myself without even knowing. That’s retribution enough.

A fantastic benefit of my capricious behaviour has been the purchase of a ‘Pup Naps calming dog bed’. It really does work a treat and I love it. Its so warm, comfy and soothing and much to M&D’s delight, I use it all the time. (except at night when a human’s bed is much more to my liking.)

So, I feel my armoury of tricks is growing, if not in frequency, certainly in variety. (As the great magicians say, “Keep the audience guessing”) Throw in the odd physical ruse to garner some sympathy and I have them exactly where I want them. Example – last week I had a particularly hectic play sessions successively with Ollie, Mercx and then Mia and May. I pulled up lame with a very sore front leg and after hobbling along for a while I convinced M to go ahead and bring the car back for me. Lots of fussing when we got home.

I love my life down here and I know that my antics and subterfuge make M&D happy too. They feel valued and loved.

Love

Ruby

P.S. I don’t think that I have had much success on my enforced diet.

‘You Gotta Love the Tip!’ (Part two), Musings from Pomland

Jan

1 comment

October 4, 2021

Following yesterday’s post I received this from my friend Barry Barnett in London. As you’ll learn in his story Barry is currently researching an ancestor who came to Tasmania as a convict. He is also recording stories about his home town Blandford Forum in his Blog The Blandford Express .Thanks Barry.

There was something undeniably familiar about Jan’s watercolour by Martin Snape of Portsmouth Harbour, England – from the Gosport side.

For it is where my distant relative, John Weeks spent two spells in the convict prison hulks, Laurel and York awaiting transportation to Australia. He was a poacher by trade and a pretty astute one. For after his first transportation conviction, he managed to avoid the transport vessel to ‘down under’ as he spent all his seven years’ sentence working as a labourer in Portsmouth’s naval dockyard.

Life in a convict hulk has been described as a ‘hell on earth’. Prison hulk living conditions, isolated by water and wooden walls, were terrible and hygiene standards were so poor that disease spread quickly. Typhoid and cholera were commonplace and the death rates were high. Below deck was rat infested and the stench appalling. Dead convicts would be buried on ‘Rat Island’ so called as it faced Gosport’s large naval abattoir. Bodies not buried might be sold on by the ship doctor.

After his second transportation conviction, John Weeks did leave Portsmouth Harbour for Van Diemen’s Land. At 62, he was the oldest convict on the transportation vessel, the Lord William Bentinck II. Older convicts were left normally to rot in the hulks at it was assumed they would not survive the long and arduous sea journey. This time, John would have wanted to go as his two sons and daughter had just arrived in Oz under an early assisted passage scheme. Did he get himself arrested deliberately?

Lord William Bentinck II berthed in Hobart, Van Diemen’s Land on 26^th August 1838 and John served his sentence. It must have been quite a reunion at Christmas 1844, when he met up with his family in Camden, New South Wales. Apart from his poaching, the versatile John was also described as a coachman, groom, farm labourer and ploughman. Despite his many appearances in English courtrooms there is no record of this continuing in Oz.

On Thursday 8 November 1857, the following appeared in the Maitland Mercury & Hunter River General Advertiser:

‘Death Notice. At Maitland, upon the 4^th instant, Mr John Weeks, aged 82 years, father of John and Benjamin Weeks of Camden, after a severe and protracted illness, which he bore with the utmost Christian patience.’

More recent images from the Gosport ferry. Two looking towards Gosport where convict hulk York was berthed known locally as ‘Rat Island’. The looking the other way to the old naval dockyard. Photographs Barry Barnett.

It was, of course, from the city of Portsmouth from which the First Fleet left for Australia and there are several reminders today here of this link. Portsmouth, nicknamed ‘Pompey’ is England’s only island city.

So perhaps this blog piece could best be entitled: ‘Musings from an island city off an island off Continental Europe!’

Baza, London, England.

You’ve gotta love the tip! Musings from (not about) Bruny.

Jan

3 comments

September 30, 2021

Marcus has previously described the Bruny Waste Transfer Station (aka the tip), and even as I write, he’s loading up for a trip. It is a very well-run operation and has the added benefit of a ‘treasure table’ which encourages recycling. Even if you’re not in the market for anything, it’s always worth a look and I’ve noticed that most people give it a quick once over. To date I have managed to ‘step away’.

I have very recently (and unexpectedly) had an Antiques Roadshow moment based on the adage of ‘one man’s trash is another man’s treasure’. Let’s roll the camera back to the summer of 1972. I have always loved a ‘tip trip’ and so was only too happy to accompany Dad to the Orange Rubbish Dump (or whatever posh title it had in those days). He was ‘depositing’ but I was intent on making a ‘withdrawal’. Even then scavenging was frowned upon, and so Dad kept watch while I retrieved a framed picture. I had been immersed in decorating books and magazines which focused on repurposing and was in search of picture frames; what was behind the glass was of little interest. Once home I set myself up on the front lawn and hosed off the layers of dirt revealing a very prettily carved wooden frame. I prised the picture out and pushed it to one side admiring my treasure.

Photo of me in the front garden following cleaning of the frame. Our Golden Labrador, Sara, exhibited many of the wild personality characteristics of our Ruby and so she was relegated to the back garden with my sister, Jo, while the operation to expose reclaimed treasure was in progress!

Mum, meanwhile, retrieved the discarded the picture, a watercolour of a harbour scene which she convinced us was of Newcastle viewed from Dad’s home suburb of Carrington. And so it became the ‘Newcastle’ picture. In time the frame would indeed be used in a decorating project and the watercolour would be framed and hang in Mum and Dad’s home. Following their deaths the picture passed to me and when we moved to Tasmania it formed part of a grouping of ‘Newcastle’ works in my studio (for those who don’t know I was born and raised in that City and have a strong interest in its history).

Last weekend I was standing looking at the ‘tip’ painting while waiting for the kettle to boil. Examining it again I realised that the artist’s signature was very clear and, taking note, I hopped online (a luxury not possible in 1972!). ‘M Snape artist’ immediately returned results and I was confronted with very similar works and an identical signature. My man and his subject choice was revealed – not Newcastle NSW but Gosport on the south coast of England.

An email to Richard Martin, an expert in Snape’s life and work, was duly dispatched with a response within hours ‘Indeed, your picture is a watercolour by Martin Snape (1852-1930). He was a very prolific artist working at the latter part of the 19^th century until shortly before his death in 1930. He was not nationally known but as a local artist made a living out of painting views in and around his (and my) home town of Gosport.’ Further discussions ensued and the Snape was mailed to England and a new home yesterday. I always liked it, but part of its charm was the story behind it, not necessarily the work. Given that we still have a bedroom of framed works in bubble wrap awaiting hanging space, sending it off to begin a new life seemed smart.

As you probably realise in many of my stories there is a library connection, and so it is with Gosport. In 2009 I undertook a study tour of public libraries/galleries and museums in England which were co-located. I visited Gosport as part of that project. It was one of my favourite integrated facilities and many library friends will have seen photos of different components worked into some of my presentations. Who would have thought?

So what’s taken the place of the ‘tip’ paining on my wall? A Monte Luke photograph of Stanwell Park gifted to us by our friends Sandra and Jeffrey; and yes, there’s a story there too! So it’s now the Newcastle/Wollongong wall which is fair enough as that’s where we moved when we left Newcastle and where I/we spent many happy years.

Talk soon.

Spring is Sprung

Jan

1 comment

September 19, 2021

Spring has well and truly sprung here on Bruny and we have been busy immersing ourselves into life at Dennes Point.

The Jetty Café has reopened after its winter break. Friday nights are strictly ‘fish ‘n chips’ and we headed off on evening one to join with our neighbours in supporting this local business. Lovely to stand by the fire and catch up after dinner. The café is in a beautiful building overlooking the Channel. Architect designed it was largely built by the local community and also features a commercial gallery space and adjoins the Dennes Point Memorial Hall.

I am also excited to announce that the gallery has re-opened as Pluk following the retirement of the previous owner ( and fellow quilter), Kate. Pluk is the brainchild of Chrystal, who was the first person we met at Dennes Point when Ruby did her escapee act on day one. It features lots of tempting items, some of which are already making their way north to ease lockdown blues.

“**Spotted Pardalot**e (male)” by 0ystercatcher is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0, “**Striated Pardalot**e (206)” by Oz Nature Shots is licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0, “**Forty-spotted Pardalote** (Pardalotus quadragintus)” by brianandlizmccauley is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0

Yesterday we made the 7 minute drive to the Barnes Bay CWA Hall for a workshop on the Forty Spotted Pardalote. Endemic to Tasmania the 40 Spots (as we now refer to them) are one of Australia’s rarest birds and are only found on Bruny and Maria islands. They are small, quiet and difficult to spot, unlike their relatives the Spotted and Striated Pardalote, both of whom we have in the garden. The the very noisy Striated have nests in the eaves of the house and the studio and are extremely social. The 40 Spots rely on the Eucalyptus viminalis ( white gum) which itself is under stress due to climate change so lots of issues. Citizen scientists M & J are now involved, building nesting boxes, observing and recording. We thought we had seen one earlier in the year when Marcus rescued one that had flown into the window but we now know that this was a juvenile Spotted. For the birders amongst you a couple of good articles over on the Bruny Island Environment Network page.

Home after our Pardalote session, Ruby and I headed to the beach where we watched dolphins playing off shore – well I watched, Ruby was too busy searching for starfish! We’re not in Orange anymore.

Winter, What Winter?

Marcus

2 comments

September 11, 2021

Yes, winter was cold but not the raw, biting pinch of a crisp Orange winter’s day. The Bureau did announce this week that it was the mildest Tasmanian winter on record and its easy to see why. I only remember having to wear my puffer jacket on a couple of occasions. Most afternoon walks on the beach required just a warm jumper to be comfortable.

I know it may seem that I have become obsessed with the wind down here, but it can be truly surprising and so varied. There is very rarely a day that can’t be described as windy but it is the speed with which it arrives, and disappears that can amaze. The absolute force of the wind is awesome. We had a BOM severe weather warning for Monday night and sure enough at 3.00am, the gale-force winds (of over 100 kph) tore and ripped at the house trying to find a finger-hold on any loose or vulnerable aspect of the building. What we weren’t warned about was a repeat performance last night, but of even more intensity. At times it felt like a heavyweight boxer was raining body-blows to the house and it responded by shuddering as if its feet were being lifted off the ground. Ruby slept through the whole experience totally unconcerned, or at least totally oblivious. (Boy, can she sleep!)

One interesting aspect of the wind is what it can do to the beach. In the afternoon after the gale of Monday night the beach had a very different appearance to normal. Where the waves had wetted the sand the wind had scoured the surface enough to undercut every bit of tiny pebble, wood, shell and seed and left them each on their own sandy pedestal. It resembled a specimen tray in a high-end jewellery shop. At the back of the beach where the sand was dry, the landscape of ‘dunes’ was just liked Jimmy Murdoch had described in Year 9 Geography back at Orange High in the sixties.

As you know, food is an important part of our lifestyle and we are still exploring the wide range of local produce available to us. We are well-served by several outlets on the island including the Bruny Island Cheese Factory for cheese, locally brewed beers and condiments; The Oyster Shuckery; and the baker down near Alonnah that sells his bread out of a couple of old fridges on the side of the road; and a local farmer who grows vegetables. Its not difficult to be fully inspired in the kitchen as a result. Our vegetable garden is ready to go into full production and we already have a couple of things on the go.

In terms of ‘home improvements’, I have been busy constructing a new garden shed/potting shed down near the studio. The enclosed area that has been created (which I have grandly named “the utility area”) is handy for hiding the garbage bins, compost bins and saved bits of timber and other building materials. Two or three garden beds out the front of the house have also been created and/or renovated to tidy up for first impressions.

The back yard is still a work in progress and is undergoing a change from the original ideas. When the weather permits that will be the next focus of attention with yet another garden bed (I wonder who is going to maintain them all?), and a new fire pit to locate and install.

If you listen carefully, you may just hear the wind screeching like a banshee through the fly-screens!

Green and Gold

Jan

2 comments

August 7, 2021

At the moment Dennes Point looks like it’s cheering for Australia with splashes of gold everywhere amongst the green. Most appropriate as the Olympics wind up in Tokyo. How did nature know?

The Cootamundra wattle at the top of the drive was the first to make an appearance a month or so ago. As the days lengthened it was joined by other species and when Wattle Day rolls around on 1st September Dennes could easily slide into a May Gibbs story. Add to this the sea of run-rampant yellow daisy, swathes of jonquils and yellow flowering succulents and you have a colour combo from marketing central.

Which brings me to the Olympics. While we were fairly ambivalent in the lead up, once they started we cheered along with everyone else. One of the benefits of ‘retirement’ is the ability to watch finals in the morning! Naturally Tasmania (including us) is delirious about the success of Ariarne Titmus. We were in a shopping centre in Hobart when she won the 400 metre freestyle; the place exploded. Shades of Sydney 2000. Tonight Stewart McSweyn from King Island will complete in the 1,500 final – fingers and toes.

But my Olympic heart is with Emma McKeon. What a star. Not only is she from Wollongong (tick), she and I received our Australian Honours at the same ceremony in 2017 (tick), AND my sister Jo swims at Emma’s families’ swimming complex (tick). Hell, we’re almost related!

Love from the Island with special hugs for everyone in lockdown xx

RUBY’S TRAVAILS ARE NOT OVER

Marcus

1 comment

August 4, 2021

Hi there – its Ruby again.

I think I’ve gone too far. As per my last blog, I’ve always thought that my behaviour pattern of alternative bouts of naughtiness (Auntie A would call it ‘ridiculousness’) followed by uncharacteristic periods of quietness, would keep M&D guessing as to my well-being. And this in turn would allow an absence of consequences. Not so.

I forgot to mention last time a couple of incidents to add to the catalogue of mischievous conduct. The first involved a one kilo bag of lawn seed that I managed to access. Not only did I scatter most of the contents to the four winds, but I was also able to eat a fair bit of it too. Too much like dried Weet-bix and another spell on the lounge with a very bloated stomach. Next was a stray handkerchief (hardly worth mentioning) and a very long pyjama cord. Boy, did that take some expelling! The last episode resulted in an unfortunate burn to mouth and tongue in the pursuit of molten-hot chocolate chip cookies straight out of the oven. Dad only turned his back for a second but I am deceptively quick when I need to be.

So, back to consequences.

The untoward experience of the suspected bite/sting of a couple of weeks ago happened again. My response was much the same as before – jumping up from my position of repose on the lounge, and burying myself under the table with lots of licking of lips. M&D are now thinking it might be tooth-ache and a resultant visit to the veterinary clinic is required. I didn’t see this as a positive outcome for me (I seem to remember from a previous visit that it involved a thermometer and a very intimate body part). So I instituted the ‘quiet period’ approach and added the extra touch of having to be assisted up on to the lounge. That was my rookie mistake – I had laid it on too thick. M&D were too concerned and an appointment was made.

I think vets in general provide a good and necessary service, but show me one that has any empathy for a Labrador’s raison d étre (outside of gun sports) and that is food. After weighing in at 40.5kgs she has put me on a strict diet. How can that be? My beautiful body shape has been called into question. I do have a social media presence and I can tell you that “body shaming” does not get good press, and those who engage in it are morally corrupt. That vet should expect some further action from my ombudsman (The RSPCA) when I complain long and loud to them.

Unfortunately, M&D seem to agree with the vet this time and they are the food providers in this family. I just don’t want to hear “But Ruby, its for your own good. I guess I’ll just have to be on the lookout for more wallaby poo, starfish and food items left unattended to supplement my starvation rations.

RUBY’S TRAVAILS

Marcus

4 comments

July 22, 2021

Hi there, this is Ruby.

Things haven’t been going particularly smoothly of late. I think I have caused Mum and Dad a fair bit of angst – even panic, over the last couple of weeks.

Back to that later. Let’s start on a more positive note. Weather has been great. After a couple of wet weeks, the sun has been out, very little wind and temperatures that still allow a black Labrador to have the occasional dip in the Channel.

I’ve been sticking pretty close to Dad as he has decided to add yet another level to the back garden – this one right up in the back corner to allow views over to the south. That involved lots of digging initially which I was able to help with. I did get a bit sick of that area and proceeded to dig my own hole in the middle of the new lawn. For some reason that was not met with a huge deal of enthusiasm from Dad. I think I heard rumblings of “Bloody dog”. The next job was screwing down the new deck up there. I like to help as closely as possible by hanging over each and every drill hole and screw as they happen. I have to be nuzzled out of the way, which I quite like.

Sometimes he gets very distracted and sits for long periods just watching the birds. I can’t quite see the attraction but it’s a pleasant way to spend some time if the sun is out and I can stretch out on the mud/dirt. The other day he spent a good amount of time observing a family of Blue Wrens taking advantage of a newly cultivated patch of land, all the while taking in the antics of Crimson Robins, New Holland Honey Eaters and Eastern Spinebills. I can’t begin to describe the excitement and joy he expressed when a bandicoot hurried out of the undergrowth. I would have thought that a black Labrador is excitement enough for him!

However, back to the series of unfortunate events that is the real reason for this post. They really have been coming thick and fast of late. For most of the ensuing incidents I hold M&D largely responsible. Their inability to put things properly away really shows their naivety when it comes to my breed, (you’d think that after three others they would have learnt). Despite what they believe, the kitchen benches are not out of range. So, subsequently I was able to ‘access’ a whole dark rye loaf and a whole week’s worth of my chicken breast fillets. It seemed like a good idea at the time but boy I paid for it later. I had to lay very quietly on the lounge after both opportunities. Thank goodness for my cast-iron Canadian Maritime constitution.

One endearing trait that I know they appreciate is when you surmise that they are coming back inside, you grab something that they value and race off with it – preferably outside. This means one of two outcomes – one is a chase around the garden or deck, or two, much yelling and threats. Both are real fun and we all love it. Last week though, there was a very different reaction from Mum. She didn’t see the humour or fun when I grabbed her pin-cushion and took off out on to the deck, scattering pins and needles everywhere. I have to admit that it wasn’t a pleasant experience because all too late I realized that I had several very sharp and painful hardware in and around my mouth. Again I retreated to the lounge feeling a little under the weather. M&D’s panic and then the concern were palpable and was only a little assuaged after consultation with the emergency vet. Pain was followed by total indignity as all my ‘doings’ were forensically examined over the next few days. Everyone was much happier when a needle was finally excavated.

My next tribulation was not only worrying for M&D but very painful for me. I was happily snoozing on the lounge when I felt inexplicably great agony in my mouth. I shot up and sought sanctuary under the table and eventually under a bed. I could not be consoled. All of us were perplexed as to what had caused this but M&D speculated that it must have been a bite or a sting from insect/arachnid unknown. I won’t be keen to have that happen again.

The view from Mum and Dad’s Hobart room before they were forced to vacate.

And so, to the last travail to bring you all up to date on the downside of a Labrador’s life on Bruny. Mum’s been working pretty hard lately and decided that they would treat themselves to a couple of nights of indulgence and luxury in Hobart. All this unbeknownst to me of course. They weren’t letting on, knowing that it would require me to go to Margate Dog Resort. Having had ‘form’ at MDR, I was forced to have tranquilisers to curb my separation anxiety. Well, I let them have one night to themselves but got myself in such a state that the resort owner rang Mum to come and get me. I had been expelled from kennels! When we got home all I could do was to curl up in a ball and sleep the sleep of the dead. Mum came and slept on the lounge with me to make sure I was OK. They were so concerned for my welfare and self esteem that there was no hint of censure. They really do love me.

Love from the Island.