It wasn’t planned. I should make that clear at the beginning, mainly because I wouldn’t like anyone to think that my escape was premeditated. It was more a spur of the moment desire to take off and see where the road led me. We’d pulled up at the gate after an hours mustering. It was the sort of job that was barely worth getting out of the kennel for. You know the kind. A few stray cows on a crop, a gate nearby, hardly a challenge. At the corner paddock Nicole got out of the ute to open the gate and when she got in and drove off, I jumped out. Simple as that. Had I known it was going to be that easy I would have tried it before but usually I’m chained when I’m in the tray, for safety’s sake, like that’s really necessary! This particular day however we were only a mile from the homestead…

Ahh, the sense of freedom. The opportunity to see new places, experience new sights and sounds. There I was cutting across the paddock as Nicole and the utility dwindled to dust in the distance. I was feeling mighty fine. The wind was in my hair, the birds were chirping. Sure there wasn’t that much to chase but I contented myself with a quick scoot past a dam where I startled some bush quail and set some black ducks flying in all directions. A mob of emu’s were my first main sighting. How there are birds that big that can’t fly seems a bit pointless to me but hey who am I to query the great maker, after all he made kelpies so the big guy’s got his priorities in order.

I have to say that chasing emu’s gets pretty tiring. They run like they’re on skats, fast as, with their necks stretched out and their small heads bobbing. This mob led me into unknown country and by the time I drew breath I was outside a cottage with two very strange looking creatures eye-balling me.

‘What are you meant to be?’ I panted.

‘Country lad,’ the bigger of the animals replied to the smaller as if I wasn’t present.

‘They tend to lead very isolated lives son. You know the kind, they don’t go out much,’

The son who looked like he’d fit nicely in my dish with a bit of gravy nodded as if he totally understood. Then it dawned on me. They were sheep. I didn’t say too much because I didn’t want to offend but there was some serious mixed-blood issues going on with the pair of them. It was like I’d crossed some type of border and come face to face with…

‘Don’t look at us that way, dog. Just because we look different doesn’t mean we don’t have feelings or a brain.’

I held a paw up in mock surrender, ‘absolutely, not a problem. I’ll just be on my way.’ Let’s face it the use of sheep and brain in the same sentence doesn’t work for me. I looked at the cross-roads where the cottage was situated and tried to recall what direction home was. I had three choices, left, right or straight ahead or I could cut cross country, except that taking the road less travelled hadn’t exactly ended up being a good idea. ‘If you don’t mind I might just wait here until someone gets home.’ The sheep, clearly some exotic breed with an attitude to match walked away. Sure enough a few hours later a neighbour drove past and recognising me called Nicole on the 2-Way radio. Twenty minutes later Nicole drove up. I jumped in the back of the ute quick-smart. She was pleased to see me so I accepted her pats graciously and looked suitably downcast.  I had an urge to let her know that I’d forgiven her for not tying me up in the back of the ute once the mustering job was over but I figured she’d probably had a bad enough day worrying about me. As for me, I was pleased to get home. Travelling isn’t always what it’s cut out to be!