Jack: 0; Mozzie Zapper: 3

For those of you keeping score, my Jack Russell put on another Logie Award-winning performance last night during an extended walk, via the kebab/pide takeaway shops in High Street, Penrith.

We placed our order at the first shop (the one that has the really nice chunky lamb shish - big chunks of lamb in the Turkish bread) and, while it was being prepared, we wandered further down the road and happened to pass the other kebab shop (which does the mixed slices of chicken and beef kebabs on Lebanese bread). Now, Jack had already put on his demonstration of feigned cowardice, even though the first shop doesn't actually have an ultra violet mozzie zapper light for the insect pests. But several years ago, Jack learned to associate the smell of kebab meat with the noise of a mosquito getting fried in the metal grill of a mozzie zapper. The staff and customers were bewildered by the sight of this crazy dog fretting outside the shop for no obvious reason.

But his bravura performance was saved for the second shop. The owner was standing out on the street, and he immediately recognised Jack from previous visits. By the time were were almost at the shopfront, Jack was practically crawling along the asphalt footpath, and trembling all over. He was excited to smell the man agan - yum yum, meat! - but he was also anticipating the... there it goes: "ZAP!!!!"

Hilarious.

Not so hilarious was our walk home. About halfway, we met a loose bulldog/pitbull cross - with a full set of testicles! (I guess that's better than a cross bulldog/pitbull?) He wasn't too aggressive, but Jack objected to the dog's nose going where it didn't belong, and Jack was atypically barky. Sometimes he doesn't know when to pull his head in.

We thought we'd lost the stray in someone's front yard, and managed to get quite a bit of distance between us. Suddenly, a car tooted us. "There's a dog coming, mate!" the guy warned. Sure enough, that squat, furry dynamo who was determined to know my dog intimately had switched to warp speed - and was sweeping towards us like the Tasmanian Devil from "The Bugs Bunny Show".

And THEN the heavens opened. With no umbrella, and carrying Jack to keep him out of reach of the bulldog/pitbull cross, who followed us almost all the way home, we got drenched.

Lovely. What was worse, the kebab wasn't even for me.

Good news weekend

Happy Australia Day for yesterday. Hope you spent it suitably.




Sunday's magic number: 90.6 I'm feeling fairly good about this! A loss of almost 2kg! I've been fairly consistent in my resistance of naughty stuff during the last week, and even my Junk Food Day choices were relatively healthy. Mind you, there was also a delicious lamb kebab, and a loaf of pumpkin sourdough bread, I brought home from Katoomba on Wednesday. Last night was a bit of a feast of fine food and drink - including lots of garlic bread/pizza and numerous glasses of Merlot - at Baia San Marco in Cockle Bay to see the Australia Day fireworks in style.

Ian and the disappearing waistline

Sunday's magic number: 92.3 - I think. The bathroom scales were going wacky today. I stepped on them late last night, for a sneak preview, but then this morning they gave the same reading. Since I always lose a considerable amount overnight, I kept moving the scales around the bathroom floor, resetting them, and hopping back on and off. 92.3 was an average of the numerous attempts.

I'm noticing that I'm not even yearning Junk Food Day now, which is probably a good sign! I took Jack for a walk on Friday night to buy a kebab (yes, at the scary mozzie-zapper shop!) and I scoffed at friends' suggestions of hot fish 'n' chips 'n' battered savs, both yesterday and today. Okay, I was being very strong. It wouldn't have taken much arm twisting.

Jack: 0; Mozzie Zapper: 2

History repeats! It was a bit chilly late this afternoon, and I needed to race an important letter to the overnight-delivery mailbox, so I dressed Jack up in his collar, harness and winter dog coat, said the magic "W" word, and we headed off to the post office.

Once again, as soon as we'd reached the fire station - many blocks down from the kebab shop - Jack sat down hard on the pavement and refused to budge. I almost had to drag him along, as he again avoided shop doorways, asked for "pick-ups", and even tried to leap into any parked cars opening their door. I figured if he was going to perform, I may as well buy kebabs!

Once again that wacky little dog, with the memory of an elephant, was anticipating the kebab shop had its ultra-scary, ultraviolet mosquito zapper switched on.

Deja zzzzzzpt!

Little wimp.

Jack: 0; Mozzie Zapper: 1

Jack the Brave

It was a bit chilly just after dark tonight and I'd already promised Jack a walk (uttering the infamous "W" word), planning to swing past the local charcoal chicken shop and pick up something for dinner...

Then I remembered I was all out of cash, so I dressed Jack in his collar, harness and cute little winter dog coat and we ventured off in the opposite direction: first to a Flexiteller ATM on the main road, and then several blocks down to the kebab shop. From past experience, I knew I could play out Jack's extend-a-lead enough to leave him on the footpath while I reached the shop's counter and placed my order.

We were almost two blocks from the shop when Jack started avoiding shop doorways and asking for "pick-ups". Ah! He was remembering that the kebab shop has an ultraviolet mosquito zapper. Jack hates mozzie zappers. Zzzzzzpt!

The guy who runs the shop must be scared of dogs, because he always asks me the same questions.

"Does he bite?"

"How old is he?"

"Are you sure he doesn't bite?"

"Why do his ears point in the wrong direction?" (ie. flattened back to his head)

Me: "Because he's scared of your mosquito zapper. I have one at home that I use during barbecues and he's scared of that one, too."

"He never sits for long when you say to him, 'Sit!'"

Me: "Because he's scared of your mosquito zapper." Zzzzzzpt!

"He looks frightened."

Me: "Because he's scared of your mozzie zapper." Zzzzzzpt!

"His legs are trembling. Is he cold?"

Me: "No, he's just scared of your mozzie zapper.

Sigh... My Big Brave Jack Russell is a wimp sometimes.

Zzzzzzpt!

Sigh. "No pick-ups!"