Though we got on well immediately, Him and Her took a bit of training before they became really good. We had to come to some accommodation for those bad Early Days that I came out of. Things that go BANG and stinky little diesel trucks - they used to make me very worried. There was also the problem of Mother Dog... I lost her too early, and sometimes I would nurse on the corner of His old sleeping-bag when nobody was looking.
I failed to teach two earlier families how to behave, and I got sent back to the shelter. When He and She turned up, I was a Good Girl, and learned a trick very quickly. When They got me home, I got very worried when they tried to change my collar. "Collar Off" meant "back to the shelter with you!" from past experience. Then my People gave me a new collar, broad with nice soft feeling and no nasty little metal pricklies.
This made me so proud, I let Her put me on a leash and we walked round the yard. Me in front, of course: I never did like the "heel" thing. A Good Girl goes in front and takes care of her two-legged companion.
Wash-wash was a challenge, because I had to teach Him the delicate art of cooperation. Hoses were out of the question. After what they did to me at the Shelter For Unwanted Doggies, I learned to never stick around when a hose was picked up. So, the bathtub option was tried: He gets ready to lift me into the tub, I stop, give Him the serious look, head tilted to right a little, and Think Hard.
"No hose. No lift. I am Working Dog, so let me Work, dammit!"
While He is looking puzzled, I jump in bathtub. Easy! I could still do it until a few weeks ago.
So I put the place in order. While I did ring-bark some furniture in my teething stage, and tracked a little of the district's red dirt in from the yard, I have always been a clean dog (if you excuse a lot of hair-shedding).
I took Him for long walks at night, and we saw bandicoots, pobblebonk frogs, owls and many other wonderful things.
One night, He learned how to run trailing behind me, faster than He'd moved in forty years, when I turned round and told Him it was Time To Go. When we'd gone a quarter-mile and were safely over the rail tracks, I stopped and let Him look back. The streetlight showed the five nasty guys who had been coming the other way on that walking path. Of course I got extra big head-ruffles for that.
On the way home, I jumped up from the footpath and walked under the overpass bridge way up the embankment, looking down at Him. It's what I always do, but if He sings that "you take the high road" thing again, I'll WOOF!
We traveled by day, too. There was a nice big field, privately owned but unused: this meant we could ignore the leash rules. Now and then the grass would be filled with galahs who had flown in to graze. The Old Man and I worked well as a team, and He did Working Dog stuff with me. I could swing round the flock to bring 'em in and tighten 'em up, as directed, but of course the birds wouldn't play the sheep part properly, and I was suddenly zooming round the edge of a hundred-bird takeoff. Such fun, that was!
We eventually slowed down a bit, Her, Him, and me. He wasn't much good for walks any more, and I misjudged when I saw a threat to Her while we were out, resulting in Her having a nasty fall.
There are ways to be happy as a house-and-yard dog, and we explored all of those. I was doing pretty well till this morning.
It's embarrassing to be a Good Girl and suddenly be a Good Girl who's herfed up bits of breakfast on the bed. The suddenly the piddle works let go, and the two-legged ones aren't angry. Him and Her start talking together with an urgent tone but not using Talk To Dog Voices.
Because I am a Clever Girl (He said so!) I know some of the things when Him and Her talk. They say "Vet", and I know this one. It is place of good and bad things: other dogs that I must keep away from my People, but also the Nice People Who Smell Of Medicine.
Medicine Smell People know my name, and they give good tummy rubs. So usual "Vet" place is okay, especially because they let my People take me straight into a side garden. This one is called "24 Hour Emergency Vet", and there are no other dogs to get in the way - straight in we go!
I do not feel good. My eyes do side-to-side looking when I want to keep eyes ahead on my People. It looks like They have to go, and I might be here a while. At least I know these two-leggers always come back!
As always, I let Medicine Smell Person take over the leash and we go out back. There's a prick in the leg, and then a needle-and-bag thing to put medicine in me.
The nice Medicine Smell Person who seems to lead this particular pack does some things at a table. She looks at a piece of paper and takes a big breath, then uses a phone thing. I can just hear the voice of Her from inside the phone. There are words I don't know, like "gallbladder". I don't know what was said, but He and She arrive back quite quickly.
I'm the focus of attention, and my Flock (don't tell Them who I was guarding and herding all this time) are down on the floor with me. Oh, the tummy rubs and headscruffles I'm getting!
There's that ker-chee noise from Her phone, and the Old Man is singing me the Poor Old Bloody Old Dog song. One of the Vet people puts some new medicine in that needle-and-bag.
New Smells Of Medicine Person, that was a good one. Not hurting! I will do Heel and follow Him and Her out quietly because they are not looking. Into car is no problem, and nobody tries that Harness thing: perhaps Two Legs can learn too. My People don't see or hear me too well now, but they turn their heads to my sitting places if I try really hard.
I can not do barking? Well, okay, He was not hearing a lot anyhow. A Good Girl has ways: just a dark hair or a white one dropped earlier to be found later, a trapped whiff of me from a cushion... little reminders of Big Love. Oh, and there are some dog-biscuit ends they won't find for ages - we always love surprises.
Surprises are nearly as good as Sudden Cold Nose Behind The Knee Prank: always good for a reaction.
I am a Good Girl. I know how to Stay, and I can sit and wait quietly. I will get Walk soon enough, going by the sounds He makes in the morning.