red crocodile creek - walkabouts 04
Went for a walk. Saw lots of trees, dry branches, leaves, dry ones too. Was attacked by green ants. Shook them off. Got joined by the dogs.
Took the dogs over to the creek. Kimber has quickly become my good friend, but Iggy maintains a distance. At the creek Kimber followed me, hesitating along down the bank, but Iggy ran rown straight away and jumped in the little water there was. Then he scrambled out and stood yelping for a bit, I think he was waiting for Kimber and me to follow his example. According to him the water was really lovely and we didn't know what we were missing out on. Kimber really felt the water didn't match the colour of her fur but she followed and politely dipped her paws in the red mud just halfway to oblige her mate. Then she and I climbed up the bank again and Iggy tried to follow, but the paws on his stocky frame are a bit shorter than ours and he kept sliding down.
Iggy yelped a bit but was gone before I could reach him. And of course being the big and strong oldest male he wasn't going to listen to me, a stranger, to come and let me help him up. He ran down the creek and disappeared round the bend. Just there, rounding the bend, he then must have encountered something terrible, by the sound of it there was a huge crocodile waiting for him, because we heard a terriffic noise of barking and growling at that moment, and just when Kimber had decided he probably needed some assistance and started along after him, he reappeared triumphantly carrying a large piece of trophy in his mouth. From afar it looked just like a big chunk of wood and bark, but it might also very well have been a piece of crocodile, which is actually more likely judging by the air with which he was carrying it. He deposited his trophy at the barrier of branches and trees in the creek bed and took another refreshing dip in the red puddle. He then made a big show of not being able to climb the sandy bank once more and disappeared again, this time in the other direction. After a minute of calling after him without any response I heard shuffling noises in the leaves on top of the bank, and there he was.
Just before we re-entered the vicinity of the house Iggy stopped, looking around in an embarrassed manner and made a little effort to clean himself up a bit before rounding the corner and entering in view of the house. There within eye-shot of the house he promptly sat down in on his bum, with his ears guiltily folded backwards. He was probably thinking he deserved a scolding from the all-seeing mistress for coming home all muddy and dirty. But his mistress never scolds him for being dirty, besides she isn't home right now and he isn't fooling me one second with his demonstrations of regret, I know he would do it all over again, and with very much pleasure.
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PS. Iggies mistress told us later when she got home that Iggy always does the routine attacking the sticks, and that he wasn't really talking to us when he was telling us to get in the water, but he was talking to the sticks. Which of course she has got totally wrong. It is incredible how some dogs and masters continue to live together in such complete and utter misunderstanding and one-sided relationships.
Also she said that in summer there are big crocs at that dam, but this never stops Iggy from taking a swim there and pretending not to be able to get out. One time he had been gone for several hours, and when she finally went searching for him she found him in that puddle, leasurely swimming in circles. Hunting for crocs, I reckon.
I still haven't seen a single croc but in the night another bit of wildlife jumped on my hand as I was getting my phone out of the pawpaw tree by the house (where I hang it during the day because it is the only location where it can find a network).
Baby froglet climbing on his way back into the pawpaw tree.
Took the dogs over to the creek. Kimber has quickly become my good friend, but Iggy maintains a distance. At the creek Kimber followed me, hesitating along down the bank, but Iggy ran rown straight away and jumped in the little water there was. Then he scrambled out and stood yelping for a bit, I think he was waiting for Kimber and me to follow his example. According to him the water was really lovely and we didn't know what we were missing out on. Kimber really felt the water didn't match the colour of her fur but she followed and politely dipped her paws in the red mud just halfway to oblige her mate. Then she and I climbed up the bank again and Iggy tried to follow, but the paws on his stocky frame are a bit shorter than ours and he kept sliding down.
Iggy yelped a bit but was gone before I could reach him. And of course being the big and strong oldest male he wasn't going to listen to me, a stranger, to come and let me help him up. He ran down the creek and disappeared round the bend. Just there, rounding the bend, he then must have encountered something terrible, by the sound of it there was a huge crocodile waiting for him, because we heard a terriffic noise of barking and growling at that moment, and just when Kimber had decided he probably needed some assistance and started along after him, he reappeared triumphantly carrying a large piece of trophy in his mouth. From afar it looked just like a big chunk of wood and bark, but it might also very well have been a piece of crocodile, which is actually more likely judging by the air with which he was carrying it. He deposited his trophy at the barrier of branches and trees in the creek bed and took another refreshing dip in the red puddle. He then made a big show of not being able to climb the sandy bank once more and disappeared again, this time in the other direction. After a minute of calling after him without any response I heard shuffling noises in the leaves on top of the bank, and there he was.
Just before we re-entered the vicinity of the house Iggy stopped, looking around in an embarrassed manner and made a little effort to clean himself up a bit before rounding the corner and entering in view of the house. There within eye-shot of the house he promptly sat down in on his bum, with his ears guiltily folded backwards. He was probably thinking he deserved a scolding from the all-seeing mistress for coming home all muddy and dirty. But his mistress never scolds him for being dirty, besides she isn't home right now and he isn't fooling me one second with his demonstrations of regret, I know he would do it all over again, and with very much pleasure.
.JPG)
PS. Iggies mistress told us later when she got home that Iggy always does the routine attacking the sticks, and that he wasn't really talking to us when he was telling us to get in the water, but he was talking to the sticks. Which of course she has got totally wrong. It is incredible how some dogs and masters continue to live together in such complete and utter misunderstanding and one-sided relationships.
Also she said that in summer there are big crocs at that dam, but this never stops Iggy from taking a swim there and pretending not to be able to get out. One time he had been gone for several hours, and when she finally went searching for him she found him in that puddle, leasurely swimming in circles. Hunting for crocs, I reckon.
I still haven't seen a single croc but in the night another bit of wildlife jumped on my hand as I was getting my phone out of the pawpaw tree by the house (where I hang it during the day because it is the only location where it can find a network).
Baby froglet climbing on his way back into the pawpaw tree.
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