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Revenge is Sweet  Have you ever had a mate like mine? You know,the "She'll be right, mate." or the one that can get you anything, you just have to wait for the truck? Or, "She's jake, mate" when the boys in blue walk towards you with the bag and you know the pair of you have lost your legs? Well, that's my mate. Keep company with him for half an hour and you will be in enough trouble to last you a lifetime. We were sitting at the largest set of traffic lights in Townsville one Saturday morning, the mate and I, in my ute waiting for the lights to change. We were one of twenty five vehicles back in one of six lanes when the mate says to me, "Aint that Frank up the front of this lane?" I put my head out of the window for a better look and sure enough there's Frank in his battered old short-base Rover with six of his Arab x Boxer x Wolfhound x Cattle and anything else he thought might improve the "line". All unrestrained as usual in the back of the old Land Rover. "Wanna have a bit of fun with old Frank?" said the mate. Now the mate has a terrible sense of humour and it invariably gets him (and me through association) into all sorts of trouble. He can take off a squealling pig to perfection and he stuck his head out the window of the ute and did just that. Those dogs of Frank's went from a slobbering mixture of ill-bred mongrels into a frenzied hunting pack. They took off in all directions. The owner of the B.M.W. that had one each trying to scratch their way through the windows wasn't at all impressed. Neither was the Falcon driver who had one come through the open pasenger side window and into the back seat, scattering groceries everywhere. Another was on the bonnet of a near new Camry, barking at the driver at the heavily tinted screen. It could see movement but wasn't sure if it was a pig or not. It was joined by another two that tried to scratch a hole in the bonnet. The mate and I were almost peeing ourselves with laughter. We slid down in the seat in case Frank saw us and wound up the windows to muffle the laughter. Frank didn't know what to do. His dogs weren't what you could call bidable at any time, let alone when they knew there was a pig in, on, or under one of the vehicles. He always had to flatten them with a piece of four by two to get them off a pig once they had caught it. He couldn't use the four b two as the bloke in the Holden took it off him when he tried to hit one of his dogs, missed and got a side mirror instead. He was totally out of control. There were dogs on cars, under cars and on the trays of trucks, all with one thing on their mind; find that pig!!! One driver got up enough courage to get out of his vehicle. He threatened to do something to Frank that I thought at the time would have been very painful indeed. Frank had by then grabbed two of his dogs and thrust them at the driver and said,"Just shut up and hold these." The driver stood there with his mouth open. Not for long. Franks dogs weren't going to miss out on anything. One bit him on the leg, the other on the hand, then bolted off to join in the chase again. The lights changed and Frank stood in front of the traffic with his hands in the air to try to stop them. Cars slowly moved off. Obscenities flowed thick and fast. In total frustration Frank sat down in front of the traffic with his head in his hands. The traffic moved slowly around him. I indicated a left turn to put as much distance between us and Frank just in case he looked up at the wrong moment. I got a lot of abuse for doing so but I felt it was nothing to what Frank would do to us if ever he found out. We both knew if he spotted us he'd twig straight away. Frank never mentioned a thing when we met up with him next and of course we couldn't say anything at all. We had had our fun. We thought it a bit funny he never said anything but we just put it down to the fact that he was so embarrassed about it and didn't want to remember it ever again. The mate and I soon forgot all about it. About six months later the mate and I were sitting at the same set of lights waiting for a change. Instead of sitting with my foot on the clutch and the ute in gear, I had knocked it into neutral as the lights had just changed as we approached them. Suddenly the ute started to move off into the line of traffic on the green. I thought there must have been a slight gradient and put my foot on the brake. We keep moving! I pressed harder on the brake pedal. We kept moving slowly out into the middle of the intersection!! The tyres were squealling in protest. I froze. i panicked. I didn't know what was going on. The traffic had come to a standstill and drivers and passengers were questioning our ancestry and our parents marital status. One semi driver threatend to go over the top of us. A bus turning right stopped with its grill against the bumper bar of the ute. Someone got a mobile and phoned for the cops. The police were very polite when they asked us to blow in the bag. I was so confused I couldn'say a thing. The constable took three pages of notes from the other drivers. The mate just stood there with a stupid grin on his face, He was the usual great help! Above the noise of angry abuse came a long, drawn-out squeal like an old sow that had two dogs hangin' off each ear. Frank had snuck up ever so gently against the bar at the back of the ute (no dogs this time), slipped the old Rover into 4WD and low range and pushed us out into the traffic. When we looked around Frank was doubled up in laughter. He tried another pig squeal but just couldn't make it he just kept laughing and pointing at us as they drove us away. Revenge is sweet! By John Chandler Secretary, Australian Cattle Dog Social Club of North Queensland. |
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