All posts tagged: Dogs

Off the Cuff with Debbie Kirsten

‘Off the Cuff’ with Author, Deborah Kirsten

CAPE TOWN, SOUTH AFRICA — Author, Deborah Kirsten’s autobiography, Chai tea & Ginger beer was penned from her unique experience as the wife of international cricketer and coach, Gary Kirsten. A sought after motivational speaker, Deborah lives in Cape Town with her husband and three children. She reveals some candid gems with JN. My secret pleasure is … A big slice of lemon meringue pie, a good ‘chic flick’ (romantic comedy) and my journal. My first job was … I guess that would be teaching Sunday school at the age of about thirteen (but of course, that was unpaid). My first paid job was waitressing in a restaurant. My most annoying habits are … My husband would have a field day with this question. He would definitely say never hanging the car keys on the key hook. (It completely mystifies him why I bought a special hook for keys and then never hang the keys there). Other annoying habits are my tendency to accumulate clutter and my inability to pass up a good bargain! A …

It’s the season for ticks

Wildlife of Greater Brisbane manual, removal should be with ‘fine forceps’. The idea is to grip hold of the head and ‘ease it out’. Squeezing should be avoided as ‘this causes the tick to inject a large dose of saliva into the host body in its attempt to detach’. My dog had been wearing a tick collar ever since moving to our acreage property.  It was, the vet assured, merely one of several deterrents including a two-weekly application of costly tick and flea repellent. I watched anxiously as grumpy Leo became a helpless invalid. Paralysis sets in after several days of the tick feeding on the poor unsuspecting mutt. Our own dog seemed to have survived a tick one week prior—a dose of anti venom tick serum seemed to pull her through. Then the next week, she failed to rise from her bed. Usually keenly interested in catching our chickens, or barking at the noisy early morning magpies that steal her food, she couldn’t even muster the energy to lift her head. Even breathing seemed …

Leading a Blonde Astray

I took my dog for a walk this morning. I snuck out the back way, through the bush and along the fire track. I was rather hoping to avoid Slater. Slater is the neighbourhood vagabond. We live in a picturesque little enclave where most properties ramble into each other without the concern of fences. This is not sensible suburbia, neatly fenced and gated where the neighbourhood dogs are restricted to their allotted area. In spite of the general lack of confines, however, most local dogs stay on their own turf and have no interest in roaming further than the postbox at the end of a rather long driveway. Slater has changed all that.