Stumbling out of bed, I wonder ‘how can it already be morning?’
As I move through our home I notice the sun isn’t awake. Hints of mauve & pink in the sky hint at what’s to come.
I dress in autopilot, unaware of temperature or weather conditions.
Stepping outside I can barely make out the stairs leading from the verandah to the back yard. ‘Are we really doing this?’ It seems we are.
Zena & Cadel sir, patiently impatient, desperate to begin their morning walk yet knowing that it cannot begin until their leads are on.
I marvel at how awake & present they are & envy them a little.
As we walk I feel the fog of sleep slowly lifting. I may not have boundless energy like they do but I’m beginning to feel alive.
The chatter from a pair of small grass parrots is drowned out by a flock of galahs flying overhead. Their screech pierces the air & im surprised to not hear the sound of something shattering as they pass.
When we’re done, when I’m sitting inside eating breakfast, I feel gratitude for these two dogs. They are teaching me to be in the moment, even if that moment is too early in the morning for my liking. I’m honoured to have them in my life & hope to continue learning from them every day we have together.
A little over a year ago I decided to start walking my dogs Zena & Cadel every day. I had been walking them about three times a week even though I knew they would benefit from daily walks. So propelled by the fact that I’d stepped away from the workforce I decided to begin daily walks. It’s safe to say Zena & Cadel adjusted to this new routine a lot quicker than I! Whilst I had always enjoyed walking my dogs I don’t experience the same exercise highs I get from riding my bike. There is always a moment when I’m riding my bike that I realise my mind is empty of all thoughts. There is no anxiety, no stress, not even happiness. Just simply a mind hearing my feet push pedals & the sound of bike tyres on the road. That emptiness does not come with dog walking. And daily dog walking meant I had little spare time or energy to ride my bike.
Despite this I pushed on with our new routine. I’d fall out of bed, barely awake as I dressed then I’d walk outside, dogs shadowing my every step to make sure I didn’t forget them. As if I would! They were the only reason I was bleary eyed & walking. Gradually I came to appreciate our walks. Expending energy first thing in the morning left Zena & Cadel happy & settled for the rest of the day. I’ve come to the realisation that the saying shouldn’t be ‘happy wife happy life’ but instead ‘happy dogs happy life!’ Sure it doesn’t have the same ring to it but it’s certainly true.
Twelve months on & I’ve returned to the workforce. With this has come a lot of adjustments for me as well as Zena & Cadel. I found myself unable to walk them daily; my body had fallen out of the rhythm of being at work. After a few weeks of this I’ve realised that I can’t continue not walking them daily. It’s become a much loved routine that has benefits for the three of us. I might not get the empty mind that comes from bike riding but I have benefitted from a mind that wanders. Suddenly a problem is solved without my conscious mind thinking about it. Or a photographic or writing idea will come to me.
I’ve missed not having these moments. So I’m happy to report we’re back at it. I’m again falling out of bed, finding some clothes to wear & getting the dogs. Then the three of us are off, walking, strengthening our bond & enjoying each others company.
If you could ask them in that moment both Zena & Cadel would say everything is right in their world. I’d agree with them. Things are certainly better when we’re walking together.
Of all the cliches that exist about Australia the one about kangaroos hopping down our streets infuriates me the most. The idea that the entire country is populated by so many kangaroos that they share city life with us is to me absurd. During our honeymoon in America we were asked numerous times about roos hopping down our streets. We were even asked if we could ride them!
I’m not sure where the cliche comes from. A quick internet search suggests that it may be born out of people’s confusion over the size of kangaroos: some people think they are small like squirrels so at that size it stands to reason they would coexist with humans, just like squirrels do. Another idea about the cliche offered up is that wild bears are commonly found scrounging for food in some parts of the US, so why wouldn’t roos be commonly seen in Australia? Getting to the heart of where the cliche comes from would probably take more time than its worth finding out about.
During summer when the weather is oppressively hot I walk my dogs as early as I can in order to beat the heat. I’m not an early bird so I tend to be walking on autopilot barely aware of the beauty unfolding around me. The sun continues to rise, parrots are chirping as they begin going about their day & the sounds of traffic in the distance aren’t yet overwhelming. Occasionally we will be greeted with the sight of a single kangaroo or more typically a pair of roos. They have been drinking water used to irrigate fig trees or table grapes. The watering holes they usually drink from are dry. Mostly they see us before we see them & are bounding away when they are noticed. Once or twice however I’ve been lucky enough to see them first. My strongest memory is of a small pair of roos, standing close to a grove of fig trees. Water is spraying from sprinklers across the tops of the trees; next to the roos is small pool of water. I anthropomorphise them & decide they look content. Happy to have enjoyed a drink. They notice me & for a brief moment we are looking at each other, them no doubt determining if my dogs & I are a threat, me aching because I don’t have my camera with me so have missed an opportunity to take a beautiful photo. They are on the opposite side of the road to us however we are walking towards them. In unison they make a slight turn & bound across the road in front of us, continuing into the vineyard that we’re walking past. My dogs would really like to take off after them vocalising to me that we should take chase. Of course we don’t, instead continuing our walk home.
Walking my dogs this past Friday morning we come across a large dead kangaroo by the side of the road, taking up part of the walking track that we are on. We have no choice but to walk past it. My dogs glance at it but they aren’t interested. There is no blood in sight & there is no smell of death so I assume that it was killed recently, probably earlier that morning by a car or more likely a truck. Despite the location being on the outskirts of town it had found itself on a major highway when it met its end. I feel sad for it & hope that death came quickly. I don’t see a pouch so console myself a little knowing that there is no possibility of a joey losing it’s life too. When I drive past that spot the next day the roo is gone. I wonder whose job it is to take it away & where does the body go?