Heavenly Beverley : Four Billion Bucks A Year For Our Pets. It's An Absolute Bargain!

We are just over two weeks into 2024. We seem to be in the midst of an endless summer. Today has been one of those topsy-turvy days that sneak up on us from time to time. I woke this morning when the temperature was still relatively cool. Eventually, I convinced myself to get up instead of rolling over and going back to sleep. A quick cup of tea and I began the endless cycle of watering. Then, with Michael still snoozing, I loaded the dogs into the car and set off for our oval before the day became too hot for their energetic romp.

The Beverley Oval is the envy of many other Wheatbelt towns. The grass is lovingly tended with lashings of recycled water, probably with some substances that dogs love to lick as a result. The lawn is green and soft and has become a magnet this summer for doggy playdates. Morning and evening, some of the regulars are usually there with their mums or dads in tow. A welcoming paradise away from prickles and burrs.

Ruby, Violet, Ada, Robbie, Muppet and Luna are some of the gang. A social and tolerant bunch, they cheerfully pinch each other's tennis balls, try and leave with somebody else or wander off with with a fancy for romance. If one goes missing ( Robbie decided to head off with his girlfriends), we all launch into search mode. All for one and one for all...

Yesterday, Susie was at the oval with Cashew ( her cashew coloured terrier cross), who had just had surgery for rather a lot of obscure stones in her bladder. The results had just returned from Minnesota (!) and Susie was expecting a lifelong change to an expensive renal diet for Cashew. As Emma Toms once noted, about twenty-five years ago, "Four billion bucks a year. That's how much Australians are spending on their pets"...

Lexi, our goofy, lolloping, growing-before-our-eyes Groodle puppy was an very expensive mutt indeed. By far the most I have ever spent on any dog. Was she worth the money? Without a doubt. She is pretty much non-allergenic, which is a must for Michael's asthma. She trips over her own feet, is the worst ball catcher I have ever seen, gallops with Stella at a million miles an hour, annoys Chop and is now quite tall enough to clear every bench. She adores eating cat kibble, plastic, tennis balls, sticks, important documents, the TV guide (repeatedly) and entire tissue boxes. Stella has now taken the status akin to Lady Grantham and is referred to as our "intellectual giant". Lexi is affectionately known as "shit for brains" but that is a complete misnomer. Lexi is probably the most intelligent dog we have ever owned. Which is a bit of a worry as she may end up smarter than the rest of us.

I can't imagine our lives without our Motley Crew. And if I wasn't sure of Stella's unconditional love and loyalty for her adopted "sister" Lexi-poo, she proved that this morning in spades.

When we arrived in our usual spot, one other local was there with his terrier. We exchanged pleasantries, the three dogs had a play and then he left. Shortly afterwards, a white ute roared into the carpark and a youngish English sounding chap had arrived with his two Staffies.

I must admit to having a bit of unease with these dogs. Sophie, my first Weimaraner, was attacked by a loose Staffie one winter evening in a carpark. I have never heard screams like Sophie uttered as she lay, pinned to the ground, covered in blood. Eventually, the Staffie was removed off her and I carried Sophie across the road to the local vet hospital. The bill for that was hundreds of dollars. I submitted a Small Claim to be reimbursed by the owner. All I received were crank calls as he had been given my name and phone number. The calls stopped when I dropped the Claim...

This morning's Staffies bolted out of the chap's car like solid streaks of pure steel. Lexi went to greet them, her innocence on display for all to see. I watched as there was some tail wagging, a bit of noise and some circling by the Staffies around Lexi. She immediately submitted by lying on her back. I actually laughed and commented that she knew she was bottom of the pecking order.

Without warning, the mood changed. I felt like a switch had been flicked. The Staffies were herding Lexi with intent. I knew we needed to leave. Then, there was mayhem. The Staffies had chased Lexi into the carpark. She was cowering by the other car. I tried to lift her out of harm's way whilst I moved Stella into our car. They had her pinned to the ground, just like Sophie. Lexi and I were both terrified.

I was screaming at the dog owner. The Staffies were ignoring him. He tried to say they were playing. I hoisted Lexi back into my arms and headed for the safety of the back seat, the dogs at her legs. As I loaded Lexi into the car, one of the Staffies half entered my car, That was too much for Stella. She was out the window defending us. I could tell there was no fighting, but just her presence seemed to quell the attackers. On my third attempt, Lexi was safely in the car, Stella was also in and I was between them and the Staffies.

I just needed to leave. The bloke kept babbling that they'd never done that before; was I alright; he'd only just received one of the dogs. He then finished by saying they would get a "hiding" when he returned home. Brilliant.

This guy represented the hapless and ignorant dog owner. He was big and solid, so he had big and solid animals. He had no control over them and had no idea how to engage with these animals. He assumed a "hiding" was just what they needed and would soothe his inadequacies in what had been a very dangerous situation. Dogs need set boundaries with socialisation as puppies. Firm commands, reinforcement for positive behaviour and plenty of love are key. Aggression towards his dogs will be utterly pointless and will just beget more aggression in them. Having any sort of animal requires responsibility and patience and work. Pet ownership is a privilege, not a right.

I returned home with a very traumatised Lexi and a somewhat traumatised Stella. Michael tended to a claw drag on my ankle. I checked Lexi from head to foot and gently brushed all the burrs and dirt and slobber from her coat. We closed the house and started the airconditioning on what was becoming a scorcher of a day.

Peace and quiet was exactly what we all needed. Exhaustion hit me late morning and I gratefully sank back onto our bed. The girls were on the couches sleeping after enjoying a morning snack and Chop was with me, executing his favourite dying swan impersonations. Michael set off for his studio to continue working on "Unhinged".

Thanks to the airconditioning and the shuttered blinds, the house was cool and shaded when I woke after one o'clock, Outside was a different matter. The sky was black and the air was stifling. Then the power went out. The rain finally arrived after three o'clock.

In the great scheme of things, the downpour was rather disappointing and the accompanying storm was not that fearsome. What was most appreciated was the temperature dropping from 38 degrees C (100.4 degrees F) to 26 degrees C (78.8 degrees C) in a matter of minutes. We have been able to throw open the house for the first time in days. The dogs are rested, the cat is content, the birds have come out in the cool and all is well in our world again.

No power for this evening? Who cares!

Oh and four billion bucks a year on our pets. It's an absolute bargain!