A 2-post collection

The hazards of dog-walking

Before the weeks of deluge, I alternated blocks to walk the hound around. Let’s call them Clockwise and Anticlockwise.

And a couple of times, I even managed to do both.

That was before we evicted the Carpet From Hell [it wasn’t paying rent], the subsequent stint of bad asthma, and a rainstorm just short of another effing flood.

Now I’m back to one block until I’m absolutely, positively certain that my health is up to a double circuit.

Problem is, the plovers have moved into Clockwise Path.

Plovers are one of the few ground-nesting species to survive the introduction of the White Man [and his associated pe(s)ts]. They did this through sheer bloody-mindedness and an aggressively belligerent attitude against anything else that moves. Oh, and nasty little spurs on their wings that can split your skin wide open.

They’re also one of the few native species with sharp bits that are not also venomous. Count your small blessings while you may.

Silly me, I decided to take Clockwise Path to see what’s been going on since the last time the sun deigned to shine.

I had to jog the dog past the plovers and pray neither of us got struck. Even though my pink canvas hat is nice and thick, I doubt it’s thick enough to double as a plover-proof helmet.

Good news: we made it. Yay.

Bad news: Clockwise path is now officially closed to me until such time as the plovers move out. This can take some significant time.

We once had a family of plovers nesting in our backyard for a friggin’ year. A year! Sure, they raised successive generations of adorable fluffy chicks [and the babies are adorable, just steer clear of the overprotective parents] but we had a large circle of yard we couldn’t mow.

Medaeval maps have “here there be dragons” on them to denote dangerous or unknown territory. Australia has “here there be plovers”.

If I do get up to a double circuit during nesting season, I shall go twice around Anticlockwise Path. And if the plovers move in there… four times around the inside of our fence.

Never argue with a plover. They always win.


I’m going to have to work on leash-training the hound at home. Lord knows I lack the capability when out on our morning constitutional.

I left the check chain at home this morning. It wasn’t working to stop him tugging, and it was just hurting him.

Just the ordinary leash on his harness hurt my wrist from the near-constant pulling, but then I don’t matter.

I’m just a human.

Still, walking every day will

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