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The Aussie - Spring 2019

Magazine only for Members of the Southern Counties Australian Terrier Club

Magazine only for Members of the Southern Counties Australian Terrier Club

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This ‘poem’ was sent to ‘<strong>The</strong> <strong>Aussie</strong>’ and it was wriJen in the 1930’s about a family’s pet <strong>Aussie</strong> - named Pete.It’s a sure<br />

bet that many readers will recognise some of the characteris>cs of Pete in their <strong>Aussie</strong> all these decades later.<br />

“Australian Terrier quite well-bred."<br />

<strong>The</strong> fellow who sold him told us.<br />

But it doesn't much maUer. When all is said,<br />

He has come in the end to hold us<br />

Slaves to his love, and a loyalty<br />

That never stoops to ques?on.<br />

He has all the vim of a restless flea,<br />

And an iron-clad diges?on.<br />

And he struts and swaggers and gnaws his bone;<br />

And his heart is ours; but his soul his own.<br />

He took possession of hearth and home,<br />

As soon as he'd looked us over.<br />

<strong>The</strong>n he dug vast holes in the garden loam,<br />

And he saw that he lived in clover.<br />

A laughing bundle of fluff and fuss,<br />

Scarce big as the rabbit he chases,<br />

He has made his home in the hearts of us;<br />

But he keeps us in our places.<br />

If his tail he wounded he li\s a paw,<br />

As wisÅul a mite as ever you saw.<br />

Vast obliga?ons weigh on him:<br />

But mere bulk does not daunt him.<br />

His way with a motor truck is grim;<br />

When the Sydney air mail drones on high<br />

He orders it out of our private sky.<br />

No pampered pet of a lap-dog he<br />

But, doing all things he shouldn't,<br />

He roams defiant, fancy free.<br />

And we praise his faults. Who wouldn't?<br />

For he’ll come at the close of a sin-strewn day<br />

Impenitent before you;<br />

But his feet and his tail and his eyes all say,<br />

"You know that I adore you."<br />

<strong>The</strong>n he'll climb to your lap and bore his head<br />

Hard into your chest, ?ll wrath be fled.<br />

With the mind of Puck and head of an ox,<br />

All privilege he seizes.<br />

He scorns the warmth of his padded box<br />

And sleeps where-er he pleases.<br />

A braggart, full of bounce and fuss—<br />

His every aspect shows it—<br />

But he's found his place in the hearts of us:<br />

And he knows it. How he knows it.<br />

With his zest for fun, and his eloquent eyes,<br />

And a loyalty that shames his size.<br />

No horse, no cow may flaunt him.<br />

Nor bird nor beast may stay to scoff<br />

That on his realm encroaches.<br />

Should thunder come, he warns it off<br />

With fierce, high pitched reproaches.

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