Flapping in the wind

By Scott Hunt

The Dog Grumbler


THE best thing is hanging out with dogs.

Just being in their company keeps me feeling like there is good in the world.

The ones I see regularly are always happy to see me. The ones I have worked with in the past always remember me — sometimes after months or even years and rejoice when we meet.

When I’m at work I often get about with a pack of canines ranging vastly in size, shape, colour and personality.

We go places where we can explore or play off lead. We socialise with other dogs and people. We hang out like a crew.

Sometimes we stop and sit for a while. Sometimes we drive around with the windows open. It doesn’t take much to entertain us.

I know they are happy: their tails wag, their ears perk up and they grin like clowns with their tongues hanging out or flapping in the wind.

They are happy because they can celebrate being dogs.

We sniff things and fetch things and sniff things and meet people and chase each other and sniff more things.

When we walk off lead, we spread out to cover a big area and we sniff everything.

When we stop to rest, we sniff everything nearby in minute detail and then we sit or lay down and just soak up the group vibe.

It rocks.

It’s great to be popular, to be appreciated even if you are old, fat, poor, dumb or funny looking (I was born for this) and it is great to make others happy.

I saw a piece on television about a rich guy who travels around giving $10 bills away on street corners.

I haven’t been able to find him but I know that feeling.

There are lots of ways to be rich – you can live in a country where education and health care are available to all, where the old and the disadvantaged are supported and your children can grow up to bear you healthy grandchildren.

You can have lots of money. You can be lucky in lots of ways and still be unhappy.

You can be successful financially, socially, professionally — maybe all three — but you cannot replace the trust and friendship of a dog.

You can’t buy it, you can’t inherit it, you can’t steal it or win it in a raffle.

You can’t put a price on it, you can’t sell it and you can’t give it away on a street corner.

I love my job. It doesn’t make me a lot of money — just rich.

You may see me around. I’ll be with my crew. We’re the ones with the big grins and tongues flapping in the wind.

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About the Author: Hobart Observer

The Hobart Observer is your monthly community newspaper, reaching over 24,000 homes and businesses in and around the City of Hobart. It is the product of Nicolas Turner, Justine Brazil, Ben Hope, Simon Andrews, Tobias Hinds and guest contributors, with support from advertisers.

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