The cat sat on the mat...

This morning I sat down to breakfast with some chicks who slept on the floor last night. Before you chastise me for my chauvinism or berate me for the revelry, I am talking about feathered baby chickens. The chooks are breeding and Jess the cat is no longer the bottom of the food chain.

Of course, the cat never realised she was bottom of the food chain and she continues to show no fear, constantly launching at the dogs from behind the sofa and attacking anything that moves including huge human feet as they stride across the living room. Responding to every perceived threat (table legs, the edge of the rug, that piece of fluff) she pounces with all four paws flailing, teeth gnashing (ever so affectionately) enough to have earned her the nickname Jihad Jess.

She is constantly bemused by the chirping coming from the towel covered cage and is, as I write, reaching full stretch through the bars at what she can only suspect is a cute fluffy play-mate frustrated that it can’t come out to play. (“Sorry, Jihad Jess, we have some very important sitting on hot water bottles to do, not to mention the cacophonous racket we make 23 hours a day, from which we must not be distracted.”)

Alsatian dogs are excellent guard dogs, very intelligent and also very maternal. Jade, the mother of the 1 year old puppies, clearly demonstrates that she thinks Jess is her baby. She snarls at the other dogs if they come close to the fluffy little war machine. Jade has also assumed ownership of the chickens and has taken to guarding the cage as well. All very cute until you remember she is supposed to be a ferocious guard dog installed to keep out the “boguns” across the road. Ironically, the best way to burgle our house would in fact be to dress up as a huge fluffy chick, which, providing you get the chirping right, would cause Jade to switch sides without even knowing it. She may even help you lift the telly out the window.

The inane nature of my writing probably tells you that I haven’t been out much recently. You’d be right. I am however planning a road trip to see the rest of the island, to consume the miles so I can get on with my next step. I had planned to get a career building job for the rest of my visa, but I am hatching a plan.

I’d like to go to Australia and ride through deserts where neighbouring towns are 600 miles apart with 4 days riding and camping in between. Then there is even the possibility of shipping a bike to India and riding home. And why not? This would be the trip of a lifetime (ok, so I was already on the trip of a life time…) but I don’t want to get distracted with stuff which seems obligatory but is really missing the mark.

You see, I miss my girlfriend in England. At times I wonder if I have had enough of disjointedly floating round paradise by myself. Maybe there are more pressing priorities. New Zealand will be here when I come back and the visa lasts til August 08...

...I don’t want to be like the dog, distracted guarding chicks when I’m supposed to be at home taking care of things, if you see what I mean.

I’ll keep you posted.