It's been a happy river lately - lots of black duck and teal flying in, the odd pelican and plenty of smelly stuff floating past - petrol drums, plastic bags with a bit of stale bait in 'em, bottles and floats the crabbers use. There's bit of movement, and I like movement.
The Boss is kind of pleased too - he's never really pleased - hates to see rubbish floating down the river, whereas I quite like it myself. I can go get it and bring it back when I'm in the mood. Or just leave it, which upsets him, and that does't hurt, so long as he's not upset with me.
So, the high river filled up a few of the lower billabongs, which gives the redgums and wattles a drink and gets the frogs going at night, a fair old racket already. The Boss likes the frogs, says its means a healthy outfit more or less - but the missus worries about snakes. Where there's frogs, there's snakes, she says. And she doesn't like snakes.
But the Boss says the big billabongs still haven't had a drink since '96 and he kind of hoped this year year might break the cycle - he reckons there's a good flood on the river every 20 years or so, you can count on it. He talks about the big floods in 1916, 1939 and 1956, then 1974 and '96. It's about time, he reckons, but this year hasn't quite made it - so far.
As for myself, I can sniff a bit more rain. The Boss might still get his wish the way this rain is coming down from India. Queenie, my mum, reckons the Boss oughta patch up the kennels and give us some fresh carpet because we're going to have to hunker down.
It's been a bit damp, that's for sure - although it doesn't bother me, I just climb into Queenie's kennel and she keeps me warm. Sort of. She growls quite a lot and kind of huddles down the back, so she only keeps my back warm - whereas I think I keep all of her warm. But I guess she gets in there first and its my job to keep the wind and the frost out. I could push her around of course - but I'm not game.
But each day is a new one, eh? This morning I nearly nailed one of those six little wood ducks before the Boss got onto me. I finally figured out what what was happening too - every time I swam after them across the billabong they would disappear under water and their folks would flutter off, just in front of my nose, like they have a broken wing. And I can't resist - I just cannot resist going for it.
What I should do is hang about and wait for those little ones to come up, then take a bite - the bigger ducks are always flapping just more than lunge away and by the time I work out I can't grab either of them the little ones have nicked off into the reeds.
I reckon I worked this out this morning and snuck around behind the billabong while the Boss was helping the Missus along the slippery path after the rain - but where were they? The stupid Golden Leave-it-There found them, for goodness sakes, down by the river. I see him swimming after them, like a slug in a bowl of soup. If it had been me...Woof.