The Native Iowan

Its 342pm, I am in Parkes, NSW. I drove down to pick up my next furry-buddy adventure.

It’s cool that their people sent a pillow they have been raised with.

I am in a dog friendly motel. An older, run down place that suits my needs well. It has an old style water closet and bath room affair. The hand basin is a small room that I can close or open makes a great puppy pen.

It’s not a great pict but they are hugging their pillow, recovering from the travel. I can see different personalities already.

They are a matched pair of bitches. 10weeks old. About 10kgs each. They have been reared by honest dog-people. Knowledgeable dog-people.

Thus they send the pillow.

The dominant sister had created a bond with her dog-person mommy. Mommy named her, “Nia”. Nia is used to being the favourite. She is playing shy and unhappy with me.

The other sister, the little sister had not been named. She is ready to be friendly.

Gracie and I had discussed possible names and my favourite was, “Quel”. Quel in Gracie’s home-language means girl.

So we got Nia and Quel.

And the Adventure Begins…

I have written about dogs in general, some of the dogs I have shared space with, and say each time that I am a dawg-person. Either you are or you are not. Middle ground does exist, but once you live with a good dawg, spend years interacting and coexisting, then bury and grieve, you learn that its all but impossible for a dog-person to NOT have a dawg.

So I bought Two!

I am known for a certain level of excess in my life. If a one-day party is fun, well hell, a two-day party gotta be better? Why adopt and raise one kid when you can adopt and raise a half dozen, and end up claiming something like 18 grandchildren?

I actually think that these two female pups represent a certain amount of constraint on my part.

And I smile.

I think the pups represent my retirement, my next retirement. Retire early and often… These pups should live an easy 10 years, could be 15. They are of a high level of breeding. They are going to be very smart, very trainable. If the trainer is smart.

I am 11 to 12 hours away from home. Traffic, road works and posted or personal detours not included. Grace is holding down the farm while I am travelling. She has the dogs and the cattle there to manage. And a big garden to play in.

Some may ask why I am buying these pups, while I have two maremma on the farm… The answer is in dog-talk: different breed are bred for different things, have different characteristics and abilities. The maremma are guard dogs. Working dogs. They do not make great pets. They bark a lot, a whole lot, that’s their job. They are naturally part wild, they normally bond and live with a herd, or flock as domestic guards. You dont groom maremma. Mine guard my property, are the sentries over the herd and the buildings. Tho trainable, their nature is to be a bit wild. Farmers around here consider a maremma to be half dog, half werewolf.

These pups would probably be called mastiffs. But they aren’t. They they are working dogs bred for size, and intelligence. They can be trained to do just about anything, but excel at domestic protection.

I do like big dogs, and have decided on two females for two main reasons: a) I’m aware that the single dog in a house can be lonely. A dawg needs company of outs own kind. And nothing is better than a good bitch guard-dog, than two good bitch guard-dogs. b) is that I have time to have two big dogs noting my life of world-wide travel and adventure is done. I don’t expect travel to open up and life to go back to “what-it-was”. So I’ll raise and train these two great pups.

They both hug their pillow in the tiny water-closet. Quel wags her tail as I try to call her out. She hears me and responds but is holding back. Nia just looks at me. Not in a bad way, but she is sad. She misses her mommy.

This place could not be better. The stars have alight ed.

I am a bit concerned that the pups will eventually wake up and want attention. I have a long drive to do tomorrow. We will take a break every two hours. It’s going to be a good initiation into the coming adventure.

I was out sorting the truck and a guy was sitting outside his room with his dawg running around. He is obviously a dawg-dude. Has a big truck and a trailer and dresses for work. A contractor away from home, with his dog. He’s reading the paper and having a smoke. His dawg, Holly, is having a good run around.

I like dawg and kid friendly, run down, country town, highway motels.

Last night I got et-up on one leg by bed-bugs…

OK, time flies when you are having fun… been dealing with the pups. They are very intelligent, aware, know what is going on. Very slow to become my buddy. Very slow. Like I would expect from a very smart dawg.

I sit in the restaurant of the “Moonraker Motel”. It smells like we have either survived a flood without changing the carpet or there is a permanent rot, decay that has set in.

I like it.

I’m having a 4XGold and the daily special… 300gm Scotch Fillet. You never know. I asked the waitress what to order and how it should be cooked. We’ll see how we go. I am a well travelled veteran and try not to order sea food in Iowa, nor steak in Gizo.

Though I have had fresh shushi in Des Moinse and a great steak in Gizo.

Local colour : This place appears to be run (owned) by a Indian continent male with a big blond Aussie female. Its is family and small. Laughter comes form the kitchen. The male on the phone taking an order is firm but concise. He wants the order to be right even if the customer is not sure. He repeats the order three times before confirming.

It’s only 637pm. Plenty of time for a couple 4Xstubbies.

Personal drama filters out of the kitchen. All kitchens are the centre of gossip. I like it. A single bloke just walked in. He is a “regular” by the look of it. Should I be civil and say G’day?

I am very good at being rude. But I won’t.

It’s all done. Had a good meal and a great conversation. The place was friendly and quite enjoyable.

I spoke to the proprietor, Vas, and am right in my assessment. We both agree it is good to be an emigrant in The land of Aus.

Hunt For Red October is on TV. 859pm. Puppies are bedded down. Plenty of newspaper on the floor. It’s been a good day. Puppies make everything better.

Smiles