by Duncan Ball
Minutes later Selby was at the newspaper office, standing on his hind legs and peering through the front window.
‘How will I know which one she is?’ he wondered. ‘Oh, this is easy, there’s only one woman in the place. She’s not very tall — she’s quite short in fact. And she’s a bit plump. And she doesn’t have long blonde hair but short dark hair. People never look the way you expect. Okay, so she’s also not gorgeous but, to me, she’s the most beautiful person on earth.’
Selby crept through the open door for a closer look at Deirdre. But, as he did, a man, chewing a huge cigar, spun around in his chair.
‘Beat it, dog!’ he yelled. ‘Get your tail out of here before I kick you through the window!’
Selby ran for the door but the man had already rolled up a copy of the newspaper and smacked him with it. In a second, Selby was out the door and rubbing his ear with his paw.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ Selby thought. ‘That Jock Bashem is exactly what I expected! What a mongrel! No wonder Aunt Jetty likes him — he looks like her!’
Selby hung around outside the office as night fell. Finally the office closed and the reporters came out. Some of them went into the restaurant next door, The Spicy Onion. But Deirdre said that she had to cook dinner for her mother and walked off down the street with Selby following close behind.
‘I’d love to just go up and talk to her,’ he thought, ‘but I don’t dare. I’d frighten her to death. I love everything about her — the way she walks, the way she runs her fingers through her hair. I’ve got to know more about her.’
Selby followed Deirdre to her house and peered through the window. Inside she kissed an old woman on the forehead and then set about making the evening meal.
‘No wonder she understood so much about “Don’t Know What To Do’s” problem,’ Selby thought. ‘She looks after her mum too. I’ll bet she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Oh how I wish I could be her boyfriend.’
After a while the old woman went to bed and Deirdre sat watching TV. Selby went home that night and lay on his mat unable to sleep because of thoughts of Deirdre.
‘I love her,’ he said to himself. ‘But she can never love me because I’m a dog. I mean the Trifles love me but that’s different. Oh, woe, this is almost the worst problem anyone ever had! There’s no answer to it! I’ll just have to try to forget her. I wish I’d never started reading “Dear Deirdre”. Now hang on! That could be the answer! Maybe she can solve my problem!’
Selby dashed to the Trifles’ computer and wrote an email:
DEAR DEIRDRE,
I HAVE A BIG PROBLEM. YOU SEE I’M IN LOVE WITH A WOMAN BUT I DON’T KNOW HOW TO TELL HER.
HOPELESSLY IN LOVE
Selby had to wait a week for Deirdre’s answer:
Dear Hopelessly,
You must follow your heart. Find the right moment and tell her how you feel about her. Do not keep the object of your affection in the dark. She has to know. If she cannot love you, that is a different matter but you cannot let your love go unspoken or it will eat away at your heart like acid eats through steel. Deirdre
‘Like acid eats through steel,’ Selby read aloud. ‘Now that’s poetry. But hang on, what if she knew that I’m a dog?, — a talking dog, but still a dog. I wonder if she’d say that I should go up to her and tell her that I love her. I should have said that in my email. But if I came right out with it she’d have thought I was a nutcase and wouldn’t have published my email. I’ll write to her again.’
DEAR DEIRDRE,
I FORGOT TO TELL YOU THAT THERE’S A BIG BIG BIG PROBLEM ABOUT TELLING THIS WOMAN THAT I LOVE HER. IT’S A SECRET OF MINE THAT MIGHT KNOCK HER SOCKS OFF.
HOPELESSLY IN LOVE
Once again Selby waited to read ‘Dear Deirdre’ but this time, just as the Bogusville Banner was delivered, Aunt Jetty dashed in the door and snatched it so that she could read Jock Bashem’s column.
‘What a man!’ she said to her sister when she’d finished. ‘Not like that pathetic woman who writes “Dear Deirdre”. Do you read that column?’
‘No, I’m afraid I don’t,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘Listen to this,’ Aunt Jetty said. ‘There’s this bloke who calls himself Hopelessly in Love. He hasn’t even got the guts to tell this woman that he loves her. What a wimp! Listen to what Deirdre says:’
Dear Hopelessly,
Okay so there’s something about yourself that might shock her. But you must tell her anyway. We all have our secrets. Don’t torture yourself any longer. Grab her and press her to you. Plant a big juicy kiss on her lips and she will melt in your arms. Say, ‘Darling, I love you! We are like two lost stars alone in the heavens. Let us lock into an orbit around one another till the end of time.’
Good luck!
Deirdre
‘That makes me want to puke,’ Aunt Jetty laughed.‘Lock into an orbit around one another till the end of time! What a scream! She’s as stupid as he is hopeless!’
‘Oh I wish she hadn’t read it in that voice of hers,’ Selby thought. ‘But I mustn’t think about Aunt Jetty. Dear Deirdre is right — I just have to go up to her and tell her! I know she’ll forgive me for being a dog. I’ve got to grab her and plant a big juicy kiss on her lips. Oh, how I want to lock into an orbit around Deirdre!’
* * *
It was an anxious dog who waited outside the Bogusville Banner office till the reporters came out. Once again they talked for a moment but, this time, they all — including Deirdre — went into The Spicy Onion. Selby waited for an hour and then two.
‘I can’t wait any longer,’ he thought. ‘I’ve got to go in and tell her. I don’t care if she knows that I’m the only talking dog in Australia and, perhaps, the world, as long as she knows that I love her.’
Selby crept into the restaurant and hid behind a curtain, listening to the reporters and waiting for the right moment to talk to Deirdre.
‘Here goes,’ Selby thought, stepping out from behind the curtain.
The reporters stopped talking and turned and looked at him.
‘Hey! There’s that stupid dog that came to the office the other day,’ the big cigar-chomping man said.‘Get out of here, you!’
Selby was about to say, ‘Deirdre, darling, I’m a dog but I love you!’ and throw his paws around her and plant a big juicy kiss on her lips when suddenly there was a noise behind him. It was Aunt Jetty racing across the restaurant.
‘Jock, darling,’ she cried, grabbing the big man and planting a big juicy kiss on his lips. ‘I love you! We are like two lost stars alone in the heavens. Let us lock into an orbit around one another till the end of time.’
Everyone stood stock still, staring in shocked silence at Aunt Jetty.
‘I-I’m afraid there’s been a big mistake,’ the man said, drawing back.‘I’m not Jock.’
‘He’s not Jock?’ Selby thought.
‘You’re not Jock?’Aunt Jetty said.
‘No, that’s Jock Bashem over there,’ he said, pointing to the woman.
Aunt Jetty looked over at the short, plump woman with dark hair.
‘You?’Aunt Jetty said.‘But you’re a woman!’
‘So what?’ the woman said. ‘Can’t a woman write a sports column? You want to make something of it? Step a little closer, sister, and I’ll knock your ugly block off.’
‘B-But Jock is a man’s name,’ Aunt Jetty stammered.
‘We make up names to protect ourselves from idiots like you,’ the woman said, turning to the big man.‘Isn’t that right, Deirdre?’
‘You’re Deirdre? Dear Deirdre?’ Aunt Jetty said.
‘Oh, no!’ Selby thought. ‘It can’t be! I thought that she was him and he was her! Now everybody is somebody else and I’m not even sure who I am any more! This is a tragedy! Oh, woe woe woe.’
‘Yes, I’m Deirdre,’ the big man said, smiling at Aunt Jetty.‘From what you said about locking into orbit, I gather you read my column, too.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Aunt Jetty said, bre
aking out into a smile.‘I’m your biggest fan.’
‘Are you really?’
‘Yes, I am, and do you know something else?’
‘Tell me,’ the big man said, smiling back at Aunt Jetty.
‘I like a man who smokes cigars,’ she said. ‘I smoke a few myself. I think I could lock into orbit around a good-looking guy like you.’
‘Good grief,’ Selby thought as he crept away into the night. ‘Before these two start orbiting around each other, I think I’ll streak out of here like a comet!’
Paw note: I hate Aunt Jetty and she hates me. If you hate her too then read the story ‘Selby Slugs Aunt Jetty’ in the book Selby Snowbound. Its soooooo cool! S
O BUM, O BUM
I think the time has finally come
To write a poem about a bum
That fleshy bit behind, I mean
Around the back, so rarely seen
Poems sing of broken hearts
And lots of other body parts
There’s even one about a thumb
So why not praise the humble bum?
o bum, o bum, o humble bum
of thee I sing, of thee I hum
And why this silence, pray tell why?
Because your bum is very shy
Its almost always deathly quiet
(Depending on your type of diet)
O bum, O bum, O quiet bum
O little chum, O quiet bum
A built-in cushion, is your bott
So spare your bum a moment’s thought
Then plonk yourself onto a chair
And thank your bum for being
there
O thank you bum, O thank you bum
O bum, O bum, O bum, O bum.
Paw note: l’m not sure there really is a poem about a thumb. S
CLOUD BLASTER
‘Look at what your disgusting dog did!’ Aunt Jetty screamed as she stepped away from something she’d trod on in the Trifles’ backyard. ‘Oo! Oo! Gooey shoe! Horrible, horrible!’
‘Not again,’ Mrs Trifle sighed. ‘It seems to be happening a lot these days. I don’t know what’s got into Selby. He never used to do these things — at least not right in the middle of our yard.’
‘It isn’t what’s got into him,’ Aunt Jetty said, wiping her shoe on a clean patch of grass, ‘it’s what comes out of him that’s the problem. If he were my dog I’d just have him put down and that would be the end of this nonsense.’
‘I’ll have you put down,’ Selby mumbled from his hiding place in his favourite bush. ‘They think its my fault but its not. I only ever go to the loo in the bushland at the end of the street. Its that silly Hamish, the brain-dead sheepdog. His owners let him out and he comes in here to do his business. I’Ve scooped a few of them up and flipped them over Hamish’s fence but his owners don’t seem to even notice. Speaking of noticing, I wish the Trifles would see the hole in the back fence and fix it. I’Ve got to do something — but what?’
‘Its a good thing Willy and Billy aren’t here, they might have rolled in it,’ Aunt Jetty said. ‘That wretched disgusting dirty dog!’
‘Calm down, Jetty,’ Mrs Trifle said, scooping some of it up with a garden trowel.
‘Get a hose, sis, and clean all this grass properly,’ Aunt Jetty ordered. ‘Oh, I forgot, you can’t because the council won’t let you water the lawn till after dark. Honestly, I don’t know what this stupid town is coming to.’
‘Excuse me,’ Mrs Trifle said, ‘but I happen to be the mayor of this stupid town. There is a very good reason why we’re not allowed to use as much water as we’d like to.’
‘And what good reason would that be?’
‘The reservoir is nearly dry. Perhaps you haven’t noticed but it hasn’t rained for ages. We have to be very careful with the little water we have left.’
‘Well that’s not my problem. Get some water trucked in. They’ve got plenty of the stuff over in Poshfield.’
‘We tried that,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘The mayor of Poshfield won’t let us have any. He says they need all of their water to keep their fountains flowing and their water-slide working and, of course, they’ve all got big swimming pools.’
‘Can’t you get a long pipe and pump some water out of a river or something?’
‘Bogusville Creek has gone dry and the next river is too far away. Any other brilliant ideas?’
‘I don’t know. You’re the mayor, do something. Make it rain, for pity’s sake!’
‘And how exactly would I do that?’
‘You obviously didn’t see that program on television last night about that marvellous Rain Lady, Clarinda McLeod. She can make it rain by doing her rain dance and beating on these tom-tom drum thingies. She says she’s made it rain in the world’s driest desert.’
‘I find that hard to believe,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘No one can make it rain if it doesn’t want to rain.’
Dr Trifle had just stepped into the backyard and was looking up at a passing cloud.
‘It is possible to make it rain,’ he said.
‘Really?’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘Yes, people used to do what they called cloud seeding from aeroplanes.’
‘Cloud seeding?’ Mrs Trifle said.‘That sounds like they’re trying to grow clouds from seeds or something.’
‘No, they’d fly into a cloud and drop chemicals to start the cloud raining.’
‘Could we do that?’ Mrs Trifle asked.
‘Yes, but the chemicals are very expensive and so is flying an aeroplane. I’ve been thinking that there must be a way to start clouds raining from down here without using expensive chemicals. Plenty of clouds come by but they usually don’t drop their rain till they get to the Poshfield Hills. Hills help make it rain. Don’t ask me why.’
‘Then maybe we should build some hills,’ Aunt Jetty said.‘But wouldn’t it be easier to just get this Clarinda McLeod woman? A bit of a dance and a few taps on the old tom-toms and it’ll be raining cats and dogs in no time.’
‘A bucket,’ Dr Trifle mumbled. ‘I think that’s the answer. I’ve got a few empty ones in the garage.’
‘A bucket is the answer?’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘Yessssssss!’ thought Selby. ‘A bucket may be the answer to my Hamish problems too!’
‘Yes indeedy-doo,’ Dr Trifle said.‘A bucket of water. Let me explain something — a cloud is made of water. Of course the water is in tiny tiny bits like steam. Sometimes, they come together and make big drops. Big drops make other big drops and then they start to fall and you’ve got rain.’
‘I’m not sure I follow you,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘All I need to do is to get a bucket of water — maybe a few buckets of water — up into a cloud and fool the cloud into raining on Bogusville instead of waiting till it gets to Poshfield.’
‘You’re going to fool a cloud?’ Mrs Trifle asked.
‘With my Cloud Blaster,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘Your what?’
‘My Cloud Blaster. I’ll make a cannon that shoots buckets of water up into a cloud and then it’ll start bucketing down, so to speak.’
‘Meanwhile I’ll find this McLeod woman,’ Aunt Jetty said.‘She’ll have it raining before you can build your silly water thing.’
‘And it’s payback time for Hamish, the-doo-doo-dropping sheepdog,’ Selby said to himself. ‘Or should I call it poo-back,’ he added with a giggle. ‘I’m going to teach Hamish and his owners a lesson they’ll never forget.’
For the next few days, Selby watched as Dr Trifle built his Cloud Blaster. First the doctor took a big wide piece of steel pipe and sealed one end. Then he sawed and hammered lots of pieces of wood together to make a stand for it. It looked just like an old ship’s cannon but it could point straight up at the sky.
Meanwhile, Selby was on the lookout for Hamish. Every time the sheepdog came into the yard and left something behind, Selby scooped it up and put it in a bucket he’d taken from the garage. Then he hid the bucket in the bushes.
‘It’s going to take forever to fill it,’ Selby thought.‘I think I’ll have to help it along.’
Soon Selby found himself scooping up dog — and even cat — droppings all over the neighbourhood till the bucket was nearly full.
‘I’m almost there,’ Selby thought, as he saw a strange woman arriving with Aunt Jetty. ‘One more day and over Hamish’s fence it goes — hello monster poo pile! Who is this woman?’
‘Clarinda McLeod, Rain Lady,’ the woman announced as Mrs Trifle opened the door.‘Your sister here says that you want me to make it rain. How much is the Council willing to pay me?’
‘I-I — what?’ Mrs Trifle said, turning to her sister.‘What’s the meaning of this, Jetty?’
‘Well you don’t expect her to work for free, do you?’Aunt Jetty said.‘Give her some money, sister, so she can make it rain and fill up the reservoir.’
‘But we haven’t got any money for rain-making,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Besides, my husband is going to try out his rain-making gun.’
‘Rain-making gun?!’ the rain-maker laughed.‘That’s a good one. I’ll tell you what — I’m going to go right out there in front of your house and show you that I can make it rain. The first time is free. After that, you pay me, okay? Come along, Jetty.’
Mrs Trifle watched as Clarinda McLeod and Aunt Jetty unpacked their things from Jetty’s car to get ready for the rain dance.
‘What’s happening?’ Dr Trifle asked as he stepped into the lounge room.
‘Have a look. It’s the Rain Lady and Jetty. They say they’re going to make it rain.’
‘Well I’m about to beat them to it,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘I’ve just finished making the firing thingy in my Cloud Blaster and there’s a nice juicy cloud just going overhead. All I have to do now is fill the Blaster with water and kaboom!’
‘You’d better hurry unless you want the Rain Lady to get all the credit for the rain.’
