A while back Ron Schofield of Aminya Village wrote a few little stories that I published in this journal. Ron has again written to me about a dog story he once had. Now I would guess that many reader’s have or had dogs over the years. Ron’s little story also reminded me of my first dog which I will write about later. In the meantime here is Ron’s story.
“When I was six years old and living in Epping my dad, who had been shooting wild pigs with his mates at Tibooburra,in the north west of NSW, came across a friendly farmer who gave my dad a beautiful Kelpie pup. Dad knew that I would love a puppy and I called him “Billy”.
Billy grew into a very strong and friendly dog who was always by my side.
Billy, for his whole life of nine years, never had a collar and used to love eating Kangaroo meat and his bed was potato hession bag on our front verandah. In all the nine years I had Billy he never once went to a vet as he was very healthy and strong.
I attended Eastwood Primary School and I would ride my push bike and halfway to school I would stop and tell Billy to go back home, which he did.
There was a motor bike rider near our home and every afternoon Billy would run after the motor bike much to the amusement of the rider.
I am now 81 years old and I can remember Billy as if it was yesterday. All great memories.”
Now, as I said before, Ron’s little story above also brought back memories for me of my first dog. I was living at Mt. Pritchard back in the very early 1960s when my parents decided that my sister and I would have a pet. They went out one day and came back with a cat and a dog for us both. I loved that dog which we called “Lady” after the Walt Disney animated movie of “Lady and the Tramp”. Just like Ron’s dog “Billy”, Lady would also follow me as I walked to school at Cabramatta High School. When I reached the end of Cook Park at Mt Pritchard I would turn around and Lady would be behind me and I would tell her to go home which she then turned around and headed back to our home. My father would often put Lady up into the roof to frighten the Possums which he would then catch in a hession bag and take away from the house. Later when we moved to Cabramatta and the “Dunny Man” would call and Lady would go berserk but the “Dunny Man” never dropped or spilt anything from the “Dunny Can”
So thank you Ron for generating those memories for me.
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