Monday, January 12, 2015

5 am

This morning I woke up to Selkie barking on the front veranda. She's about eight months old and her usual modus operandi at dawn is to rip underwear with a ping of pegs from my clothesline and leave it on the doormat. She's not that into barking yet but she's a huntaway and huntaways are supposed to be barkers ("Their bark is deep and repeating, usually with a short pause between barks, which allows the barking to be sustained for very long periods.") and so I lay in bed this morning thinking 'Oh, joy. The age of barking has begun.'

I shouted commands like 'Shut it!' and 'Shut up dog!', and then some expletives that naturally follow on from those commands at 5 am. She kept on barking. Something is wrong, Sarah! Something is wrong! At 5.05 I grumbled out of my bed and opened the door. Selkie fell inside, wriggled at my feet, then followed me back outside.

Two huge, grizzled rottweilers stopped their snooping and stared at me. The male had a docked tail. The female had the tits of a bitch who had recently pupped. Both of them wore heavy silver chains around their neck. People jokingly call the diamante-studded collars on their dogs as bling, but these two looked like serious incarnations of Mr T. They even clanked as they came over to me, ears pricked.

Selkie slunk behind my legs. She was terrified. The rottweilers were friendly. ('Oh, here is a human. Maybe she will pat me/feed me.') I told them to sit down and the male did. I checked his collar for a tag and a phone number. Nothing. I could see the bitch had a council tag but as I called her over, everything changed.

They looked at each other and I could see a message move between them.
"Rotties freak me out," my sister said later. "They're clever and they know how to intimidate. They manipulate that knowledge."

Let's get her. That was their look.

I was standing on the veranda in my petticoat and no shoes; nothing covering my legs and arms. It was stupidly early in the morning. Crows were still calling up the sun. I suddenly felt really scared as both dogs focused on the pup. She was grovelling around my shins and I knew that if they attacked her, I didn't even have a decent pair of boots to kick on with.

As the dogs went for the pup between my legs, I opened the front door and she fled inside. I bounced the door against her hind quarters, banged it shut. I turned around and shouted at the rottweiler husband and wife.

"Get out! Go on, go home. Fuck off!"



13 comments:

  1. You/the pup were lucky. I don't trust any rotties.

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    1. Nor do I, after that. It was interesting and frightening, watching their intent change so quickly.

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  2. So, this is the inspiration for the start of Exiles? (Still hanging out for the next installment, by the way.)

    "Rotties freak me out," my sister said later. "They're clever and they know how to intimidate. They manipulate that knowledge."

    With all that size and power combined with the intelligence and mentality of a dog that's bred to control other animals, they're definitely not to be taken lightly. I wonder if they've escaped from someone's yard or if they belong to a neighbour who's just let them wander?

    So, Selkie's a huntaway? Not sure I've ever seen one up close. Kiwi sheepdog, aren't they? How did you come by her? Or is that a story for another day?

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  3. art = life = art. It was just a strange irony that this standoff happened straight after I'd posted Exiles.
    To make things worse, the poor pup literally shat herself on the doorstep and it was the first thing I encountered before the dogs. Too early in the morning for that kind of shit!
    I think they were owned by visitors to the area. I've never seen them before.

    Yes, I think she is a huntaway. The vet reckoned so as well. She came from the Pilbara with an uncertain history.

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    1. A strange coincidence indeed.

      the poor pup literally shat herself on the doorstep

      Given the size discrepancy, I can't say I blame her. Imagine waking up with a full bowel and seeing that coming down your driveway.

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    2. It suddenly became a really full-on, panicky moment and I wasn't even awake proper. As usual, it was the arrival of a human that changed everything. They may have ignored her otherwise - but something tells me she is lucky to be alive. She spent the rest of the day under my bed and didn't get her nose rubbed in the shitty doormat.

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  4. Jesus! I hope you called the fucking Ranger. I agree, I don't trust Rotties either - OR Doberman's or German Shepherds. Is it a coincidence that they are all German breeds or have I got that wrong? (I'm part German myself so I am not being a smart-arse)

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    1. How do you feel about Dachshunds, Michelle?

      (Sorry, I am kind of being a smart-arse. But yes, they're all German breeds.)

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    2. I thought about calling the ranger ... but it was 5am.

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  5. I made the comment about those breeds being German Alex because I suspect they were bred that way as weapons of war. Maybe they used Dachshunds to infiltrate narrow tunnels. Sorry about my political incorrectness (not) - I am quite over that atm. I refer you to my latest post if you want to know why: http://michellefrantom.blogspot.com.au.

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    1. Dachshunds were indeed bred to infiltrate narrow tunnels, but only to wage war on badgers. I'm pretty sure rotties and shepherds were bred for working stock (shepherd is kind of a giveaway). Dunno about Dobermans; haven't had much to do with them, but they do kind of seem like they were bred to be cantankerous arseholes.

      And I don't mean to be overly PC, but I do wonder about the association of Germany with aggressive behaviour. They might have been the "baddies" in WWII, but when it comes to historical atrocities, I don't know that they're that much worse than a lot of other Eurasian powers. I think I will check out your post.

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  6. Thanks for clearing that up Alex. Having come from Dutch-German stock (on one side), I would be the first to say that they can seem aggressive. And maybe they are as a culture - my family argue passionately, often at the tops of their voices, and I know this does not sound good to other people sometimes. We don't bear grudges and it is all part of the process of debate. I think it is so easy to misinterpret cultural differences - I know I make that mistake but I try and pay attention not to. Some cultures are not as demonstrative i.e. the classic British 'upper class'. Like the Dutch, Latino people are very expressive - waving their arms around, shouting and gesticulating a lot. Of course these are stereotypes and the world isn't that simple by a long shot. What really bothers me though, is that it is difficult to comment on these 'differences' without someone getting upset. They are superfical differences because I believe that deep down we are all very similar. I find the PC culture bloody exhausting. I used to joke with my Aboriginal students - I would make fun of the 'whitey' in the room which was me of course, and they would crack up and call each other 'black bastards' etc. It really gets back to 'intention', which was the conclusion I came to in my latest blog post.

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    1. I do know what you mean, but I think, mostly due to my avoidance of social media ... and increasingly many forms of news media, especially anything to do with "celebrities" or "personalities" (eg Q&A), I really don't cop that much of it.

      I have read your post and am contemplating a response. I hope you don't mind long replies. I tend to ramble.

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