Did I tell you about my new job? I got that job looking after cats at the vet after all.
Well.
For Christmas we went to Tasmania, our family and Uncle Steven and Aunty Judy, and we took Grandma because it was her 80th birthday on Christmas Eve. We also took the dogs. There they suffered from such traumas as cold metal cages, ticks, gravel driveways, allergic reactions, leftover Christmas lobster, splinters, friendly strangers and 'no pets' signs.
We went over on the boat, leaving the poor dogs in metal cages down with the cars with all the other dogs. When we got them out the next morning they were *SO* happy to see us. We got off the boat and gave them breakfast and noticed a dog down the road. It looked like a german shepherd puppy. But it also looked very old. And it was small. We couldn’t figure it out so we went and asked.
“Believe it or not, she’s a six-year-old pure-bred German shepherd.” Our eyebrows rose. The owners went on, “She has dwarfism. It’s to do with her pituitary gland.” “Oh.” We said, surprised. “It has a pretty ratty coat.” Mum stated, always the diplomat. But it was true, the poor dogs coat was long, thin, straggly and wiry-looking. “Yeah, that’s because of her hormones too. That patch there where it looks like a normal dog? That’s where she was bitten by another dog.” “So you just need her to be bitten all over.” Said mum.
Well, you learn something new every day.
We had breakfast and decided to stay somewhere nearby, as we were all tired. Except Viv. But she doesn’t count.
We went to about half a dozen campsites before finally discovering a place that looked nice *and* allowed dogs. However, the car we were following (containing Steven and Judy and dad) drove right past it. We called them up and pointed out that they had missed the entrance, and we all turned around and went back to find it.
We stayed in a cabin. It was close to the beach, which the dogs enjoyed. The town was called Penguin. Apparently there were penguins there, but we didn’t see any. On the second day, we went to the market and took the dogs. 20 people there stopped me to admire them. A surprising number of them knew that they were Papillons. We went on a few short and scenic walks. Unfortunately the dogs picked up some ticks. We wouldn’t have known, except Merry’s face began to swell, just like it had when she was pregnant and had gotten more than 170 tiny ticks all over her and been horrendously ill. We rushed to town and found a vet clinic but of course it was closed. Luckily we found a number and the vet answered and she drove up to meet us, by which stage Merry’s face was twice its normal size. She thought it must have been ants or a bee sting. We told her that it was probably ticks but she didn’t believe us. She gave Merry an injection and some tablets, and over the night and next day Merry’s face deflated back to normal.
The next place we stayed was the Edge of the World (great name, huh?). There was an awesome windy beachy thing which obviously gave the place its name. My hair blew everywhere and I got salt on my glasses and I hated it so I went to sit in the car while other people took photos. I think that was the place where Steven’s camera/tripod blew over and cracked a several thousand dollar lens.
Dad and Viv and I stayed in a tent and the others were in a cabin (STRICTLY no dogs). At the campsite we couldn’t even put the dogs down without them picking up a dozen burs. Literally. And not the normal sort of burs … these were real nasties, hard and sharp and painful. Luckily we only stayed there one night. Unfortunately that was the night I got my period pains and by the next day I could hardly stand. After much searching someone managed to procure some painkillers for me which I promptly threw up. Sigh.
We did some driving, all the way to Bushy Park where my aunt Sue and her partner Geoff live in a converted church. The dogs appreciated being able to run around again, but the gravel in the driveway was uncomfortable for them to walk on. It was quite funny to watch actually.
There we comfortably awaited Christmas day, with the adults rushing around preparing things, like cooking the 10kg fish that my cousins had caught (yes – 10kg. And that’s *after* it was gutted). We did some interesting things, like a 9km walk (we took the dogs) to see a lake, and picking raspberries. IT was Grandma’s 80th birthday on Christmas eve. Viv and I made her cards, and Sue made her a banana cake; that was very nice.
For Christmas there were 18 people – Sue, Geoff and his daughter, son and mother, Steven, Judy, my cousins Ryan and David, Both my grandma’s and my grandpa, Alwen and Mavis, plus me and Viv and mum and dad. If you count the dogs, that’s 20. We had ham and turkey and chicken and fish (I didn’t) and potatoes and salad and other various goodies, with Pavlova and plum pudding and Christmas cake and fruit and all sorts of things. We got presents and people gave presents and it was all good. Mum gave the dogs ‘scrap’ lobster (like ‘scrap’ meat of tendons and fat and gristle and stuff) but they didn’t like it. Sensible creatures.
Other things we did … we went to Salamanca Market and I bought presents for Marie and Cass and Jess, and Viv bought presents for her friends. Viv found a series in a second hand bookshop and got addicted to it (it’s by Jean Auel). Steven and Judy let me choose a book as my Christmas present and I chose ‘The Aware’ by Glenda Larke, because I remembered Jess is obsessed with it. Now *I* am obsessed with it. It is so good! I’m going to buy the other two in the series with my birthday/Christmas money (Of which I got lots. Yay! ).
Hmm. Yeah. After Christmas one of Sue and Geoff’s sheep got sick and died. We think it ate a poisonous plant (foxglove or something). Their other sheep were ok, luckily.
We went and visited my grandparents a few times. Grandpa’s mind is going like my other granpa’s did. He kept thinking Viv and I were Steven’s kids. Dad and Steven and Sue and Gillian had to sort out the tax and various legal documents. Power of Attorney or whatever.
We went and saw Happy Feet. I hadn’t necessarily wanted to see it, but then we watched the making of it and I was hooked, as were the rest of my family. And yes, it was very good, but I wish it had been longer.
On the boat on the way back, one of the dogs was a shepherd/collie type with NINE three week old puppies. OMG so cute!!! They were too young to know what was happening, they just liked being with mum. Poor mum … she was being mobbed. She didn’t even have a blanket, poor thing. She looked at us with big eyes … help … get me away from them all … teehee.
We got home to discover that my favourite quail, a dark coloured boy with a brilliant blue and red chest, and also a cinnamon boy, were dead. I was quite upset. But Merry was happy to be home, anyway. She had been a bit homesick, unlike Mystic, who is always happy so long as she is with her people.
We spent New Year’s Eve at the Donnelly’s place, eating goodies and playing ‘spoons’, although we switched to ‘thumbs’ after several people got injured. William was winning, but then he dropped a card though the slats of the veranda (very very hard to get to) and so by general consensus he lost.
On the second of January we went to Ikea (because Ikea is closed on the 1st, the only day of the whole year that it is closed). I got 2 new bookcases and a wardrobe. We started to empty it and then I had to go to work. It took 2 hours (It’s meant to take one) and afterwards I got a phone call and they told me all the things I hadn’t done … how embarrassing. Anyway, when I got home my room was totally empty. Nothing in it. It *echoed*, for Christs sake. It took until 10 that night for my parents to build the furniture. I tried to help but found that I was about as useful as a chocolate teapot. I went away again. It is surprisingly off-putting to have one’s room emptied completely and re-arranged.
The next day was my 17th birthday. And I actually felt different. I had to work so we ordered some chinese and grandma came over, and it was good. It's a very good resteraunt. I had brownies as my cake, but the wind blew the candles out before I could (haha).
I’ve spent the past few days slowly filling my room back up again. I’m about ¾ of the way through I think.
In the meantime, we got air conditioning (we haven’t had any since our old one blew up years ago). We re-arranged the birds, putting the budgies in the cage outside my window and the quail in the canary cage in case the men needed to muck around with the aviary … bad move. Turns out they actually needed to mess with the aviary we had put them in. Anyway, after several hours we had 2 new, working air conditioning units, one in the kitchen and one in the TV room. Dad was in the middle of re-wiring the aviary when I noted “Dad … the air conditioner is dripping all over the floor.” And so it was. He stoped rewiring. The man came the next day to fix it. Now it works.
But in re-wiring, dad discovered where the rats had come from that had eaten Kung, my first and favourite quail. There was a gap in the drain pipe (the one where the water from our roof flows down). The rats had come up from the sewer.
He blocked it off and we put mice and rat traps in to see if there were any left in the cage. We’ve caught one mouse so far (mice eat birdseed, but not birds), but no rats. The budgies are still in the kitchen.
Yesterday I was about to step out the door to walk to work when I double checked the sheet … the calendar was WRONG! I didn’t have work! Never mind, at least I discovered it before I got there.
This morning I awoke to a conversation that sounded decidedly like there was a transaction of birds going on … and I was right. There is a lady and her husband and their baby who live 2 doors down who have decided to give away their canaries (2 red-factor females). And as we have only one very lonely gender confused canary, mum said we would like them. It turns out that she was a take over teacher at Glen Waverley, and I have had her twice. I remember her very well because she is a sociologist and she writes novels and she has six eventing horses. She has invited me to go to the farm with her one day when I’m not working. Cool, huh?
But we discovered that the canaries have lung mites, which would explain why their male canary died recently. We have treated them and fingers crossed they survive. Seeing as we had 3 girls, we went to the pet shop and got a male canary …we hope – two of the three we have which lay eggs were sold as boys. We told the shop person about our singing egg-laying girl who was meant to be a boy and he said “Females don’t sing. They can’t sing. It must be a hermaphrodite.” Woohoo, we get a special bird – a flightless hermaphrodite canary. Hahahaha…
Anyway, went to work today and discovered that all the doors were locked, and I don’t have keys yet. Luckily mum was shopping and I found her and she called dad who found the numbers and we called Perri who came to give me her keys. It was quite nice today, lots of nice cats and because the clinic was closed there was no-one coming in or leaving. I let the playful Somali siblings out to frolic around my feet while I worked. I found a present that I think had been there before Christmas for me, as a welcome to the team. It’s a rather peculiar cat statue. It was so sweet of them
As I was about to leave I decided I had to pee so I went into the main building – and set of the burglar alarm. Godsdamnit. How was I meant to know there was a burglar alarm? I didn’t know how to turn it off and I didn’t have anyone’s number so I just walked home and left it. Sigh. Mum called someone when I got home, and they said they would call someone who could turn it off.
Had roast lamb and potatoes for dinner and a chocolate cake I made for dessert. It was good.
O tuesday, supposedly, we are getting our new TV. That'll be fun :P
Now I have been writing for ages and I haven’t done enough homework and it’s too late to bother and I can’t believe it’s Sunday and I’m going to bed. Nighty night.
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