The Dog Days

I didn't take my camera with me when we went to the cinema yesterday morning, and as it turned out we continued straight on to Melbourne Museum, so for the first day since I arrived here I took no pictures. Well, that's not quite true. When we got back we found Mel had come round accompanied by Wombat, another neighbour's dog and the only dog Billie seems to feel friendship for. Here are both dogs being hopeful as cheese is cut on the counter.

He's her toyboy, being around three years old compared to her sixteen. He's also a lot bigger as he's a bull mastiff. Like other bull mastiffs I've met, he's a gentle giant, fond of leaning against you and soliciting affection.

We broke open the sloe gin Vicki bought in Richmond, and the cocktails were delicious. As lovely as the ones we had in the bar on Sunday. Maybe lovelier. We stopped at two, which was wise.

It's a good thing I'm leaving soon as I could get a taste for these. Although Melbourne's tall buildings are impressive, it's the vernacular architecture I like; the streets of low rise houses with tin roofs; lots of bungalows (strange that in the UK the word bungalow is almost a term of abuse, perhaps if they looked more like these they'd have a better press) with flowers and shrubs in the gardens.

And the cats. This one in a cat run to keep it safe from a neighbour attack dog.

The street at night.

We visited Vicki's parents after the museum. I haven`t seen them since they came separately to see her in London. Her father remembered details I have long since forgotten. He stayed in my flat with Cat while I was away in Greece. As a parting gift he gave me a book from his shelves about the history of Tasmania. Later Vicki told me it had been a present to him from her.

I'll miss Billie with her slightly wobbly dancing gait, like an old lady who has had one too many sherries. During my stay I have noticed a vase of Vicki's, it's doll shaped, a little green girl in red shoes holding a golden hare. The top of her head is missing and I thought it rather creepy. Vicki assured me that with flowers it is transformed, and so it has proved.

My wildlife sightings went up a notch when a possum visited the street on Sunday night. Apart from wallabies killed on the road, that's about it, though I am pleased to have missed the venomous spiders. Maybe I'll see something from the train when I head for Sydney on Thursday for my last few days on this side of the globe.

Tomorrow, my last day with Vicki, we're going to Edgar's Farm to see other rescued animals; farm animals, cats and dogs.

It's all gone very fast.

 

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