The Dogs of McGregor Road

Fiji is a great country, with many beautiful things to see. Probably one of the least beautiful things in the country is the dog that lives at my work premises.

This dog is as foul a creature as anyone has ever dreamed. It has horrible bald patches on it’s hindquarters from days spent dragging ass on grass round and round the clothesline pole. It has dirty, horrible gray paws, gnarled growths in odd places all over, a short and slightly inbred looking head and a formidable odour. The pictures to not do it justice, I’m telling you this animal is so mangy and ugly it would probably make an onion cry. Now sadly, this is not one of those ‘diamond in the rough’ or ‘hunchback of notre dame’ type situations with a heart of gold behind the rough exterior. No, this foul beast delights in attempting to bite the living crap out of me every day.

There was one week in particular where the “sorrowful louse” waited at the top of the stairs every morning, and growled at me until I made an attempt to quickly jump over it. During my leap of faith the “wretched canine” would then try to snap at my ankles, usually following me up the remainder of the stairs biting and chomping until I made it inside. It was a mission every day just to get to my seat, and by the end of the week I was so on edge I was freaking out like a chainsmoker after a long haul flight. Someone said hello to me on my walk from the street to the office and I jumped so high I think I caught a glimpse of Samoa for a second.

Friday finally arrived and I walked gingerly into work. As I came upon the stairs I stopped and peered up looking for the “savage monster”, but to my shock he was nowhere to be seen. For a moment there was a monumental celebration going on in my head with firecrackers, a marching band and ceremonial monkeys on bicycles. Today I would be able to walk up the stairs with the respect I deserve as a lifetime member of the top level of the food chain. I took a few steps and then it dawned on me. Like admiral ackbar and many others before him:

I turned and saw it, the “grotesque salivating force” was rampaging towards me. Having fooled me into a false sense of security, the plan had worked like a charm and he would be upon me in seconds. I had about twelve stairs to climb to reach safety. He had only three or four meters of gap to close before he’d finally get to chomp the living crap out of my ankles. I turned and ran up the stairs. The “unworldly terror” was closing fast despite its mangy and slightly inbred legs, and in seconds it was growling and gearing up to start biting. I made it to the half way point up the stairs when it took the first lunge, snapping and missing by inches. I jumped and tried to run faster, looking out behind me for attacks. Snap! Snap! I just moved my ankle in time as his gnarled jaws crunched together again. With a massive leap I jumped through the office door to safety, the invisible line of inside and outside the only boundaries to an audacious lust for my blood.

After a week of this, and knowing I wouldn’t get anything done at all while I was so incapacitated by stress every day, I was presented with a key to the front gate, ensuring dog-free passage into my office. This was probably one of the greatest things I have been given in Fiji, and I am absolutely anal retentive about the key’s whereabouts at all times, as I sometimes have been accused of misplacing things as small as keys (Hunt loses his house keys twice in one week, 2011, Various Authors).

When I arrived back to work after my recent trip to Australia I was told the only news around the office was that “The puppies are getting bigger”. My first thought was “We have puppies? I must have missed a previous edition of the TGNI Times” and my second thought was “Uh oh… potential spawns of Satan!!” There are actually two dogs at my work, one is black and lovely, the other is the aforementioned “sentinel of the abyss”. I ran outside and saw two very cute looking puppies (good sign) trying to climb the stairs (bad sign) to get to their mother, the black dog (good sign!). I was happily convinced that spawns of “the demon that shall not be named” had successfully been avoided and thus I was free to play with and enjoy said puppies. Which I did.

After a few days I was walking around the back watching out for the “Destroyer of souls” when I came upon the puppies. There was actually three, and one had a golden streak on it very reminiscent of one “Harbinger of sorrow and malice”. Just then a thought occured to me… maybe the black dog was the mother and the “Murdurous rampaging juggernaut of destruction and filth” was the father? The puppies all started barking at me and advanced menacingly. I was confused and alarmed but not really afraid… since they were cute puppies. When they closed the distance I was waiting to see what would happen. I steeled myself and waited to see what kind of a biting a ferocious puppy could inflict. They made it to within striking distance of my legs and one let out a not-quite-yet menacing growl…and they all started licking my legs.

It seems when you cross good with bad you get bizarre.

Here is a youtube clip of the new editions for those who have been pestering me: