The Quiet Life

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I really do aim for a quiet life – surrounded by nature and no other humans – which is why I rent a farm house on a huge cattle property with no neighbours and a river on 2 sides, just me and my dog. Even friends with an address and a GPS can’t find me. Given I live in the sub-tropics of Australia where it rains a lot and is damn humid, clothes are a rarity. Who is going to see me? Famous last words. My darling doggie boy, Fergus, was struck by 2 nasty tropical beasties, called paralysis ticks. Their name says it all. Poor bugger couldn’t walk or bark at all for 11 days and ended up with severe bed sores on his feet from his long stay at the vet, which I am still treating. When he jumped up by himself today to be let out, I was jubilant. I opened the doors and down the 2 ”tricky” steps he can’t manage – I usually use a towel as a sling to take the pressure off his back end – he jumped down both of them and straight in front of the electricity meter reader… Meter reader was coming around the side of my house, starting his spiel of “Hello, I’m just…” until he saw me coming down the stairs behind Fergus and he changed to “Oh, hello…” as my boobs and his eyes were on the same level. I got rid of him while he smirked “See you next year”. I bloody hope not. I should be mortified – and am, up to a point – but I think it is hilarious and just hope my name isn’t now scrawled into the toilet wall of the local pub. Thanks so much, Fergus. Remind me again why I’ve just spent over $2000 on vet bills.