Betrisher
Well-known member
- Jun 3, 2013
- 4,253
- 177
- Parrots
- Dominic: Galah(RIP: 1981-2018); The Lovies: Four Blue Masked Lovebirds; Barney and Madge (The Beaks): Alexandrines; Miss Rosetta Stone: Little Corella
This is my story of the Duckenfield Rat. It really happened to my sister and me about twenty-five years ago. It illustrates (for our Tab) that what you think is a clean, washed horse isn't necessarily a clean, washed horse.
Characters:
The Ugly Sister
Me
Dear Son - Matt, 14
My Hunn (DH) - Kim
Dear Nieces - Teasie and Jacquie, 10 and 9
Dear Nephew - Timmy, 2
Dear Brother-In-Law - John
Horses - Tristan, Ranya, Dillon, Suzette and Boofhead
Dog - blue cattledog, Nicky
Background:
The Ugly Sister got tired of having to drive long miles to visit her horses, so she and my then-DBIL decided to sell their house and try to find a rental place with acreage attached. The old cottage they eventually moved into had been transplanted from somewhere else, so none of its joins were still intact. There were gaps between the floorboards and the walls of up to two inches, however the property itself was utterly charming. You walked out the back door and looked across patchwork fields as far as the Blue Mountains in the far distance. The Hunter River gurgled not 50 metres from the back door and it was truly just like Heaven.
Now, right on the heels of this decision, my DBIL had a sudden flare-up of his Crohn's Disease (foul bowel disorder). This occasioned him to go into hospital and have eight feet of his intestines removed. It was awful! He became gutless overnight! (Sorry - couldn't resist that!) So poor Ugly had to finish moving house alone. Of course DH and I offered to help her.
Story:
Moving-in night was a Friday. DH and I agreed to stay for the weekend and help unpack and set the house up. By the time we got there, it was dark, so we were anxious to eat and get to bed. As we entered and proceeded down the hallway, Ugly said 'What's that white powder on the floor?'
We looked. 'Dunno...' There was a thin trail of whitish powder leading from the front door all the way to one of the bedrooms. Mystery!
Brave (or dense) as usual, Ugly tasted it. 'It's custard powder!' she announced. Following the trail back to her bedroom, we found a large bag filled with Jenny Craig food (Ugly was reducing at that time). The Terribly Tasty Vanilla Custard had been ripped open and something had been eating it! So, following the trail the other way, we arrived at elder niece, Teasie's bed. The three of us naturally reached out to move the bed away from the wall. As we did so, a Large and Hairy Animal materialised from nowhere and shot into DH's groin!
'Oooofff!' he said in a peculiar voice, 'What was that?'
'A rat! A rat! A rat!' yodelled the Ugly Sister. 'There's a rat in my new house! Get it out! Get it out! Get it out!'
Mayhem ensued as we all tried to put Serious Distance between ourselves and The Rat...
... who promptly exited the bedroom, making its way back up the hall to the front door, passing our collective kids on the way. There was a veritable fountain of children as they each leaped onto furniture out of the rodent's path. I was impressed to note that Teasie had the foresight to seize her baby brother before she made her own dash for safety. DH chased The Rat with a broom, batting at it as it scurried back and forth against the locked door. Finally, it bolted down the gap in the floorboards and was lost. It was A Bad Rat! It had smoke coming out of its nose and sparks emanating from its evil little red eyes! Honest! I saw!
'Whew!' we all said. 'Let's have some dinner.'
'Hang on!' said Ugly 'Pony Club Gymkhana's on tomorrow and the horse trailer has a flat tyre. We must fix that before we pack it in for the night.'
So off we trailed in the dark to try and change the tyre by the light of four cigarette lighters (couldn't find the torch). DH was just removing the wheel when we heard some maniac screaming along the quiet country road pretending to be an f-18 in full flight. 'Scree-ee-ee-eech!' went his tyres. 'Thunk!' then: 'Yoww, yoww, yowww!' Ugly's dog, Nicky, had been knocked down by the fast-retreating jet!
'Oh no! Poor Nicky!' chorused the kids. We all raced to find him in the palpable pitch dark that only happens in the country. There he was: sitting, shivering, on the road. His face had been laid open to the bone and there was surprisingly little blood. The poor creature was clearly in shock, so Ugly carried him down to the house while DH and DS finished changing the tyre.
'Have you got a needle and thread?' I asked 'We should stitch that right away.'
'Yeah,' Ugly replied, 'I'll leave Nicky here in the laundry and find it. Can you get some feed bags and make a bed for him? The hot water bottles are in that box.'
Dutifully going about making the poor dog comfortable, I sort of didn't notice that he slunk (or should that be 'slank'?) out of the laundry and back into the house. Having fixed his bed, I turned toward him and only then heard the unmistakable sound of dog-vomit occurring in the living room. Oh no! It was too late! There were five separate stinking heaps at approximately regular intervals right there where we planned to eat! Ugly entered with her sewing kit and screeched 'Oh no! You #%^&(*(&&# dog!!!'
Poor Nicky spent the night in a warm laundry with nice hot water bottles and no stitches in his face: an Elastoplast bandage had to suffice. We set about cleaning his mess up
'Best thing' I announced cheerily 'is to scoop it up on the dustpan and hoick it outside. At least in the country, everything biodegrades really quickly.'
I was anxious to end this fiasco as quickly as I could, so I set busily to work with my dustpan. DH entered just at that point, nursing a squashed thumb. Ugly found the bandaids while I did the dog-vomit thing. We were both practised veterinary nurses, but Ugly has never been great with vomit of any persuasion. Feverishly I scooped and scraped and hoicked each load out into the velvet darkness at the back of the house. I smiled to myself as I heard the horses whiffling about and fondly thought of them cuddling up together for the night. I imagined them, all warm and snuggly in their jammies after their nice bath that afternoon...
At last, the drama was over, we could finally eat a meal. It was midnight! The kids were all drowsy from the excitement and had had toast during the trailer-tyre and dog-vomit incidents. However Ugly announced that if DH would pour us a stiff drink she would cook sausages for us all. Before long, Ugly was warbling away over a panful of sizzling sausages (Bourbon always brings out the chanteuse in her), so I said 'Come on kids! I've found the torch! Let's go spotlighting and see what we can find!.'
I was hoping I might find an owl or something exciting out here in the country. We set out to walk around the wide verandah that encircled the house. We found a couple of stick insects and heard owls in the far distance, but there was nothing...
'Look!' I hissed at the kids, 'there's something on the flyscreen... what is it?'
'****** ****!' I bellowed!!!' Advancing on the kitchen window, I was astounded to find not one, but two large Green Tree Frogs, each the size of my palm!
Coinciding with my exclamation, there was a sharp intake of breath from Ugly and suddenly it was raining sausages in the kitchen! She'd jerked in reflex as I cried out and hoisted the pan of sausages over her head, sprinkling them liberally over the kitchen floor. DH was in tears from laughter. The kids were agog at their Mum/Aunt hurling the sausages and I was really embarrassed at being the cause of it all!
We all pitched in and plucked the fuzz off the snags and ate them very, very quietly with bread and tomato sauce. Ugly's face kept twitching oddly and DH had a diabolical fit of the giggles. We went to bed and slept without incident. Except, Teasie utterly refused to sleep in her bedroom, where The Bad Rat had excavated a large hole in the mattress and clearly been domiciled for a very long time... Instead, Teasie slept with her sister, who was not at all pleased with the arrangements.
Next morning, we arose at 6am, ready for a great day at Pony Club. All the tack was clean, the horses had been washed and polished yesterday and the kids were hopping into freshly laundered jodhpurs and sparkling boots. I stepped outside to greet the misty new day and there they were: our horses, huddled together just as I'd imagined them the previous night.
They were liberally sprinkled with dog-vomit.
Edit: Oo! I hadn't realised how long this post would be. I'll delete it in a little while, OK?
Characters:
The Ugly Sister
Me
Dear Son - Matt, 14
My Hunn (DH) - Kim
Dear Nieces - Teasie and Jacquie, 10 and 9
Dear Nephew - Timmy, 2
Dear Brother-In-Law - John
Horses - Tristan, Ranya, Dillon, Suzette and Boofhead
Dog - blue cattledog, Nicky
Background:
The Ugly Sister got tired of having to drive long miles to visit her horses, so she and my then-DBIL decided to sell their house and try to find a rental place with acreage attached. The old cottage they eventually moved into had been transplanted from somewhere else, so none of its joins were still intact. There were gaps between the floorboards and the walls of up to two inches, however the property itself was utterly charming. You walked out the back door and looked across patchwork fields as far as the Blue Mountains in the far distance. The Hunter River gurgled not 50 metres from the back door and it was truly just like Heaven.
Now, right on the heels of this decision, my DBIL had a sudden flare-up of his Crohn's Disease (foul bowel disorder). This occasioned him to go into hospital and have eight feet of his intestines removed. It was awful! He became gutless overnight! (Sorry - couldn't resist that!) So poor Ugly had to finish moving house alone. Of course DH and I offered to help her.
Story:
Moving-in night was a Friday. DH and I agreed to stay for the weekend and help unpack and set the house up. By the time we got there, it was dark, so we were anxious to eat and get to bed. As we entered and proceeded down the hallway, Ugly said 'What's that white powder on the floor?'
We looked. 'Dunno...' There was a thin trail of whitish powder leading from the front door all the way to one of the bedrooms. Mystery!
Brave (or dense) as usual, Ugly tasted it. 'It's custard powder!' she announced. Following the trail back to her bedroom, we found a large bag filled with Jenny Craig food (Ugly was reducing at that time). The Terribly Tasty Vanilla Custard had been ripped open and something had been eating it! So, following the trail the other way, we arrived at elder niece, Teasie's bed. The three of us naturally reached out to move the bed away from the wall. As we did so, a Large and Hairy Animal materialised from nowhere and shot into DH's groin!
'Oooofff!' he said in a peculiar voice, 'What was that?'
'A rat! A rat! A rat!' yodelled the Ugly Sister. 'There's a rat in my new house! Get it out! Get it out! Get it out!'
Mayhem ensued as we all tried to put Serious Distance between ourselves and The Rat...
... who promptly exited the bedroom, making its way back up the hall to the front door, passing our collective kids on the way. There was a veritable fountain of children as they each leaped onto furniture out of the rodent's path. I was impressed to note that Teasie had the foresight to seize her baby brother before she made her own dash for safety. DH chased The Rat with a broom, batting at it as it scurried back and forth against the locked door. Finally, it bolted down the gap in the floorboards and was lost. It was A Bad Rat! It had smoke coming out of its nose and sparks emanating from its evil little red eyes! Honest! I saw!
'Whew!' we all said. 'Let's have some dinner.'
'Hang on!' said Ugly 'Pony Club Gymkhana's on tomorrow and the horse trailer has a flat tyre. We must fix that before we pack it in for the night.'
So off we trailed in the dark to try and change the tyre by the light of four cigarette lighters (couldn't find the torch). DH was just removing the wheel when we heard some maniac screaming along the quiet country road pretending to be an f-18 in full flight. 'Scree-ee-ee-eech!' went his tyres. 'Thunk!' then: 'Yoww, yoww, yowww!' Ugly's dog, Nicky, had been knocked down by the fast-retreating jet!
'Oh no! Poor Nicky!' chorused the kids. We all raced to find him in the palpable pitch dark that only happens in the country. There he was: sitting, shivering, on the road. His face had been laid open to the bone and there was surprisingly little blood. The poor creature was clearly in shock, so Ugly carried him down to the house while DH and DS finished changing the tyre.
'Have you got a needle and thread?' I asked 'We should stitch that right away.'
'Yeah,' Ugly replied, 'I'll leave Nicky here in the laundry and find it. Can you get some feed bags and make a bed for him? The hot water bottles are in that box.'
Dutifully going about making the poor dog comfortable, I sort of didn't notice that he slunk (or should that be 'slank'?) out of the laundry and back into the house. Having fixed his bed, I turned toward him and only then heard the unmistakable sound of dog-vomit occurring in the living room. Oh no! It was too late! There were five separate stinking heaps at approximately regular intervals right there where we planned to eat! Ugly entered with her sewing kit and screeched 'Oh no! You #%^&(*(&&# dog!!!'
Poor Nicky spent the night in a warm laundry with nice hot water bottles and no stitches in his face: an Elastoplast bandage had to suffice. We set about cleaning his mess up
'Best thing' I announced cheerily 'is to scoop it up on the dustpan and hoick it outside. At least in the country, everything biodegrades really quickly.'
I was anxious to end this fiasco as quickly as I could, so I set busily to work with my dustpan. DH entered just at that point, nursing a squashed thumb. Ugly found the bandaids while I did the dog-vomit thing. We were both practised veterinary nurses, but Ugly has never been great with vomit of any persuasion. Feverishly I scooped and scraped and hoicked each load out into the velvet darkness at the back of the house. I smiled to myself as I heard the horses whiffling about and fondly thought of them cuddling up together for the night. I imagined them, all warm and snuggly in their jammies after their nice bath that afternoon...
At last, the drama was over, we could finally eat a meal. It was midnight! The kids were all drowsy from the excitement and had had toast during the trailer-tyre and dog-vomit incidents. However Ugly announced that if DH would pour us a stiff drink she would cook sausages for us all. Before long, Ugly was warbling away over a panful of sizzling sausages (Bourbon always brings out the chanteuse in her), so I said 'Come on kids! I've found the torch! Let's go spotlighting and see what we can find!.'
I was hoping I might find an owl or something exciting out here in the country. We set out to walk around the wide verandah that encircled the house. We found a couple of stick insects and heard owls in the far distance, but there was nothing...
'Look!' I hissed at the kids, 'there's something on the flyscreen... what is it?'
'****** ****!' I bellowed!!!' Advancing on the kitchen window, I was astounded to find not one, but two large Green Tree Frogs, each the size of my palm!
Coinciding with my exclamation, there was a sharp intake of breath from Ugly and suddenly it was raining sausages in the kitchen! She'd jerked in reflex as I cried out and hoisted the pan of sausages over her head, sprinkling them liberally over the kitchen floor. DH was in tears from laughter. The kids were agog at their Mum/Aunt hurling the sausages and I was really embarrassed at being the cause of it all!
We all pitched in and plucked the fuzz off the snags and ate them very, very quietly with bread and tomato sauce. Ugly's face kept twitching oddly and DH had a diabolical fit of the giggles. We went to bed and slept without incident. Except, Teasie utterly refused to sleep in her bedroom, where The Bad Rat had excavated a large hole in the mattress and clearly been domiciled for a very long time... Instead, Teasie slept with her sister, who was not at all pleased with the arrangements.
Next morning, we arose at 6am, ready for a great day at Pony Club. All the tack was clean, the horses had been washed and polished yesterday and the kids were hopping into freshly laundered jodhpurs and sparkling boots. I stepped outside to greet the misty new day and there they were: our horses, huddled together just as I'd imagined them the previous night.
They were liberally sprinkled with dog-vomit.
Edit: Oo! I hadn't realised how long this post would be. I'll delete it in a little while, OK?
Last edited:
