The joys of dirt bathing: nothing better than a naked wallow in mud

Of course, it’s also good to keep busy during the lockdown. Due to the rules, Man and Lady are not allowed to see their new grandchild, so they’re taking it out on me. It’s all “Who’s a pretty boy?” and “Come here and give Grandpa a cuddle”.

I’m a kelpie, for God’s sake, not some lapdog. Next, they’ll have me dressed in a playsuit, floppy hat and pastel cardigan. They’ll be pushing me around in a pram, big pink ribbon around my noggin, a recitation of nursery rhymes to follow.

‘Next, they’ll have me in a playsuit, floppy hat and pastel cardigan. They’ll be pushing me in a pram, big pink ribbon around my noggin.’

Clancy Glover, Kelpie

In response, I’ve reminded them that I’m actually a fierce guard dog. I see myself, during these difficult times, as the personal agent of NSW Police Commissioner Mick Fuller. I crouch behind the front door, my ears swivelling to catch the sounds of the neighbourhood. This group of young people walking down the road? There must be at least five of them. Family group? I don’t think so. There’s hardly any bickering, so they can’t be siblings.

I warn them off with a volley of barks. How dare they? The exercise rules have a limit of two people, unless from the same household. I know some people say the health orders are difficult to follow. They seem simple enough to me.

Even before COVID-19, I’ve always wondered why people have the audacity to walk past my house. Worse, there’s a team of fellows who come every week with a big truck and steal all our garbage. One minute it’s there; the next it’s gone. They do this every week!

Even more strangely, Man places the bin out on the street the night before they arrive. Talk about enabling! I have half a mind to contact Crimestoppers and describe this weekly conspiracy between thief and victim.

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Back in West Africa, the perpetrators of the coup d’etat appear to be suddenly talking the language of compromise. The military leaders have promised to set up a transitional government of national unity. Perhaps the country will stabilise and thus provide, once more, a threat to Australia’s position as the world’s dominant supplier of iron ore.

I’d love to chat to Andrew ‘Twiggy’ Forrest about the market pressures, but I seem to have lost his number. Mind you, when you consider the profits to be made in the wellness industry, it might be better to focus on the mud-bath business.

Who knows, I could be the new Pete Evans.

Hope all is well in the country.

Love, Clancy.

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