I sit here in my office, which is a dog box demountable on the side of my butchery, cold and alone...yes it even gets cold on the Gold Coast. The bloody Swine Flu and its friends have made it to town and taken out my key staff, so I am trying desperately to do what I do best...run around like a headless chook... but now I actually have to find stuff and get stuff done. The week started with us doing up a Swine Flu avoidance procedure, only to find out our first staff member who was due back from holidays was already in the throws of this Mexican plague.
Then we found out that due to the complaints and media coverage of our Lamburgers at Queen Street Mall markets we were unable to cook on Wednesday, so I got into overdrive and spent the night with friends making 100 takeaway containers of Moroccan Lamb and Cous Cous, Sizzling Mongolian Lamb and Rice, and a North Indian Korma with Rice. I needed the friends because my first attempt at producing 25kgs of rice ended in a sad mush, despite several phone calls to chefs and Asian mates.
By 2am all was done and packaged and up we were at 4:30 am to get our produce to the markets...woops we forgot to set aside a few kgs for taste testers...and also in the mad rush we forgot to pack the 25kgs of sausages we use for testers...so the result was we were down about 73% on our usual sales from not being able to cook Lamburgers and not having the taste testers.
Luckily the meals we spent all night making were a hit and we sold eighty-three, which helped bring up our sales...and hopefully those who enjoyed them will be back for more next week.
Then I got the news that as it's been a month since the disappearance of my little black Kelpie 'Jed' it's a forgone conclusion that he is not coming back and either became a victim of theft or more likely a crow dropped dingo bait from the neighbouring forestry.
That's my last in a continuous line of Kelpies that I have had since I was a toddler, when I was given my first bitch 'Elsa' by Malcolm McTaggart, one of the famous Brothers of the 1970s. I remember the day like it was yesterday. He loved the old dog and could not put her down, which is most often the only kind option for a working kelpie that can no longer keep up in the field and risks terrible injury due to losing the quick reflexes these dogs need to do their work. He told me how to respect her, feed her in the right way, and understand that she was the boss and that I had to know my place with her and learn from her how to interact with dogs. He hoped that I would grow to love the working dog as he did.
I was very young but I understood what the giant stockman was giving me was much more then a retired dog, it was his loved workmate and companion. That is the way of the bush I suppose, passing on the knowledge from one generation to the next, and for me that was learning from a wise old Kelpie. My first memory was of that day and the subsequent days of sharing the bush with Elsa, learning from her the canine ways and all the while moving away from interacting with people and more with 'my Kelpie', but in actual fact I was hers, as she led me on our adventures and protected me from the many farm dogs on the place and the packs of stockmans' dogs that came and went with the mustering season.
Elsa brought a new member into the pack, who I named Tubs as he was the fastest little red pup that resembled a barrel more then a small dog. While out on one of our many adventures the old dog succumbed to a snake bite doing her duty of protecting Tubs and me.
Much of what I learnt from Elsa occurred after her death, due to the fact that without Elsa, who was the leader of the dog pack at our farm (which I was a part of), there was some really unruly behaviour and the other dogs began to push me around and not keep off me as they had done when Elsa was around. Tubs particularly became too boisterous without the leadership she provided and I learned the consequences of not having a dog that was balanced and under control...he was put down.
I understood that I was going to have to take on the role of boss dog, which she showed me was not by belting up the other dogs and being a nasty piece of work, but showing them who is going to protect them, differentiating between what's a threat and what's not, and taking them on adventures though the bush and safely home again.
When my parents thought that I had matured enough and learned how to be the strong and decisive leader that Kelpies need, they bought me a magnificent red pup I named Della. Why I chose that name no one, not even I, now know...it is an odd one but I can tell you she was the best thing that happened to me. From the moment we picked her up on the side of the Ipswich Motorway she began to test me by trying to drag me into oncoming traffic, but I used what Elsa had taught me to be boss dog and allow the pup to stay calm and know its place.
These Kelpies taught me so much about life, loyalty and working as a team. There will be some time before I can commit to getting a new one as they are not a dog that comes without massive responsibility and commitment to harnessing their intelligence. Well while I sit here reminiscing and avoiding the massive workload I have it only gets bigger and my 3am start for the Manly Market only gets closer.
