The Native Iowan

Chilly mornings time of the year here in the Land of Aus. Happy to report that the dry season is almost here. Only have had 3 or 4 rains this month, maybe only 50mm/ 2inches of rain so far this month.

We’ve had some beautiful, chilly, windy, clear skied days and nights recently. The clear skies give us very chilly nights. As the day warms up, it’s 10am now, the place becomes very pleasant indeed. But the windy, blustery nights get down right cold. Cold for QLD, not cold for Iowa…

The ground is still wet. Ive been stuck a couple times in the past week. One eve I got my 4×4 stuck, had the windows down, and splattered mud inside the cab. The grandkids were in the back and got splattered too. They thought it was great good fun.

My faithful readers all know my affinity with and for dogs. I’m a dog guy. Always have been. Always will be. For most of my childhood I had a dog in bed with me all the time. Sometimes two dogs. Sometimes a cat too. At one stage we had a skunk and a couple raccoons in the house. Of course the skunk and the racoons never lasted long because as they grew up they showed there thieving natures and mom had them removed. Ours was a household of confusion and activity. Kids and dawgs always go well together.

Here’s one of my stories from early childhood…

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I was quite young. Maybe 4-5yrsold. I recall a fourth of July celebration on the farm where we lived south of Knoxville, Iowa. I have vivid images… Fireworks, bbqs’, lots of people. Bottles of cola cola. Fresh, crank-made ice cream by the gallons. A long weekend of excitement and marvels for a young child. 

There I was… The back stoop of the small white Farm-House… My Father and other males, I recall my favoured uncle, Jimmy, sitting by back door, near the large earthen mound that was the “root-cellar”.  The two-hole “long-drop” out by the clothesline. A large steel bell with a huge clapper hung from the clothesline-pole, near the two-holer. It was an old farm. Big front lawn. My family rented the house and the farmer/ owner managed the farm. 

It must have been a long weekend. Celebrations had been ongoing and everyone was relaxed. It was the decompression side of the weekend… Things were almost over. Everyone was hapi. Relaxed.

The Men are smoking, sitting on beer crates. Talking in low tones. 

A couple of mongrel dogs that belonged to the farm, sunning themselves on the walk way. 

I sat near. 

Listening to the cadence of the speech. Not fully understanding but enjoying the sensation of listening to these men, as they smoked. I enjoyed the smell of their tobacco. So did the dogs… The dawgs were my friends. We spent a lot of time together. 

I recall Jimmy picking up a dog near him and holding his ear open. My father, without a word, stuck a match and burnt a tick. Jimmy turned the dog a bit more, a few more ticks were summarily incinerated by a succession of Ohio Blue Tips.

I was fascinated. Another Man had grabbed another dog and as the first de-ticked Canis ran off whimpering, more matches and more ticks were used and abused. 

I elbowed in as only a child can do. I got close. Watched the sizzling ticks. Saw the dogs squirm and fight, ineffectively, as a parasite was burnt from their skin.

That’s when Jimmy grabbed me. He held me across his knee as my father sizzled ticks in both my ears. I do believe I had more ticks than the Dawgs.

When Jimmy’s grip relaxed, I scurried away, whimpering, to where the dogs were, under the close line. 

We sat there, the dawgs and I, licking our wounds. Staring warily toward the men and their cigarette smoke. Wondering what we had done wrong to be so sorely treated.
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Picked up a new Dawg this past week, and surprisingly, it’s not one of my usual big-dog-breeds. Nope, I have been given an opportunity to swap one of my upcoming mastiff pups for a wiener-dog. My mastiffs weight 100lbs/ 40kgs. The new pup is less than 2kgs/ 4lbs.

Now named “Lady Godzilla” by 4 year old Josef…

She’ll spend a number of weeks here with us before she’s big enough to travel to the Solomons.

And life is guuuud.

Dawgs are guuud…

more later