The Wilson Files Part 3 - Camping on The Murray River

This is the third of the Wilson blogs. Aimed at kids - all ages.

The Wilson Files Part 3

 

Camping on the Murray River

 

Christmas came around and there were big celebrations in our house. I was even given a present; a rag doll which, as it happened, didn’t have very sturdy legs because they came off with only a couple of tugs. The Doggett, my dad, was given dog biscuits in a big, red tin. The best thing though, was all this lovely food called leftovers. I particularly liked the duck, very nice. We had lots of roast potatoes with gravy and the little bits of burnt pumpkin were wonderful, great for the teeth I believe.

 

As soon as Christmas Day was over, the Four Wheel Drive was brought out and packed to the brim. We bounded into the back seat along with the small person, and off we went. It took a long time but we slept most of the way and The Doggett and I had lots of energy when we arrived at the camping spot on the Murray River. We were met by our best friend Ozzie and after a rowdy greeting of chewing each other’s legs, went over to explore the water. Ozzie belongs to the relatives of our people, so we spend loads of time with him. His man person calls him a Big Sissy. I’m not sure what a Big Sissy is, but I wouldn’t mind being one because whenever his man person calls him one, it generates lots of pats for Ozzie from his lady person, lavishing him with even more cuddles and tummy rubs. I wouldn’t mind that at all.

 

I had never seen water before, not like this anyway, it flowed past fairly quickly but on the sides it just sloshed along gently. I didn’t take long to get in and have a swim around. I did suspect though that The Doggett couldn’t swim. He would never admit it and I didn’t bring up the subject, but he just lazed around in the shallows and pretended to be fascinated with crickets and things.

 

Ozzie, on the other hand has turned swimming into an art form. He loves it. He swims right out, not quite into the middle because the Murray is very fast. He puts his face into the water and blows bubbles, and then chases the bubbles, popping them with his front paws. I love hanging out with Ozzie. All the small people love him too. I was at his house one day and some small people knocked on the door and asked if he could go out and play. They throw sticks and balls for him to retrieve. They threw a ball to me once but I tried to eat it and everyone yelled at me. The Doggett doesn’t do balls or sticks, he just ignores them as they sail past. The Doggett is very cool.

 

One day, I overheard our people talking to Ozzie’s people about snakes. It turns out that while we, The Doggett, Ozzie and myself are around, the snakes won’t come near the campsite. I wasn’t sure what a snake was, but it felt good to know that it was scared of me already. I strutted around feeling pretty important, knowing I had a fierce reputation among the snakes. I wandered through the long grass, hoping to find some sitting around that I could scare by sneaking up and barking. I even invented a game called ‘Snake Ninjas’, where I pretended that the Golden Ninja, me, would pounce on a group of snakes and they would all run off through the bush crying and terrified of the barking, Golden Ninja. It was a great game and I couldn’t wait to actually find some snakes.

 

A couple of days later, the Ranger came into our campsite to warn us of a snake that had been spotted in the nearby bush, (‘bush’ is Australian for lots of trees and bushes and grass and stuff). The Ranger actually had a photo of the snake, which he passed around. He told our people to be careful until he had caught it and removed it to a spot where there were no campers. I had my chest all puffed up and ready to run through the bush looking once more to scare the snake, until I glimpsed the photo. I froze!

 

My head swam and my little legs felt weak at the sight of this horrible long, scaly, slithering thing. It had horrible yellow eyes and teeth called fangs. Apparently, one bite from this snake thing would do us all in. I felt dizzy as I looked out into the Great Australian Bush, my reverie and the Golden Ninja gone in one simple flick of a photo. I felt sick. I dragged myself into one of the tents and lay on a blow up mattress and wondered if the snake knew how to unzip the tents in the night.

 

It wasn’t until we were on our way home that I mentioned the snake to The Doggett. He said that the snake wouldn’t bother us unless we stepped on it because they don’t like that. Eww! I had no intention of touching it! The Doggett also said that snakes could swim. He then put his head on his biscuit tin and went to sleep. I looked at the snoring Doggett and remembered how he only ever played around on the banks of the river and never went in for a swim. I love The Doggett; he’s very cool.

 

Love Wilson.