05 February 2011

They're Not Just For Christmas. They Can Be For Birthdays Too

Where we live is not the country. We pay exorbitant amounts on real estate for it not to be the country.

Something has gone wrong here. How did this happen?

I give you the most likely scenario:

“Bit of shoosh, bit of shoosh everyone. Thank you and thanks to those who’ve come in on their night off for the annual volunteer-of-the-year recognition awards.

Now, we all know that volunteering at an animal shelter is incredibly tough work. If you haven’t done it, you wouldn’t understand. The hours, the conditions, the unending heartbreak of looking after abandoned animals and of course, the rich and varied smells.

Sometimes, not often enough, you get one of those breaks that make it all worthwhile. A little kid will come in, pick out some mangy, flea bitten, bitza of a thing with nothing but hate in its eyes and froth at the jaws and they will bond instantly. You’ll get a real thrill, both emotional and legal, when you watch them walk out that door, little kid excited at the adventures to be had with his new pal, and mongrel-features excited at the thought of not going to "the farm" and maybe some dry kibble.

What I’ve found after years of doing this and finally rising to the heady heights of senior beagle-brigade volunteer, first-class, is that working in an animal shelter really instils in you a steely and profound hatred for human beings. How, as a species, are we capable of such mindless cruelty to other species? It confronts you day in and day out and every time I think of it I could just kick puppies… joke, Mrs Botherington, joke. I meant kittens.

Anyway, you find small bits of joy where you can and it is usually in the shape of nameless revenge. I would like to recognise a couple of close runners up to the volunteer-of-the-year in this field before we get to the big one.

Mandy, you are worthy of mention for convincing not one, but two people this year that hydrophobia meant the dog couldn’t wee on a fire hydrant. Brilliant. And all the more timely as rabies makes its way back onto the Australian mainland.

David, particularly good work this year, too. Bald cockatoos are never easy to unload and putting that one in a Barbie tracksuit and selling it to the Sunrise TV show for a Betty White celebrity interview was inspired. We look forward to seeing what you can do with that two legged, fringed hamster back there. Rumours are that Kyle Sandilands has bitten off more than he can chew this year, so keep your ears open for opportunities there, mate.

But on as we must to the biggy. Lizzy? Up here darlin’. Just use that tortoise as a step… that’s a girl. Lizzy, you pulled it this year. You set the bar and I’m not sure whether to limbo or pole-vault. When someone handed that foal in, in a wet sack, my heart sank like that sack was meant to. I mean, what were we going to do, here in Marrickville, with a fucking baby horse. Sorry Mrs Botherington, it still gets to me. Anyway, Lizzy closed the deal and Short Lap found a home. How you managed to convince that guy that St Bernard’s don’t have individual toes was beyond me but teaching Short Lap to fetch a newspaper was complete magic. A note here for the newcomers. That little bit of misdirection Lizzy did with the little barrel hanging under Short Lap's chin really distracted from the bridle and reins.

Fantastic work Lizzy, we all look forward to what you’re going to do with Chantelle. A reckon a camel will be the new benchmark.
So, that’s enough from me, let’s have some bubbly and a boogy… oh and before I forget, Terry left the chameleon cage open so, you know, careful where you sit or dance."


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