The Wargeilah Handicap
The heavens are bucketing tears, she seems so inconsolable these last two days. It’s grey and overcast outside again. Transparent glass bead raindrops form perfect rows across the stems of the rubber tree plant. The backyard creatures have all opted to sleep-in rather than take their usual morning walk. I agree completely.
The rain has a way of bringing flora to life that nothing else can, not even a good hosing. *Himself, the lemon and orange trees and the agapanthus look like they’re revelling in the chance to squelch mud between their toes. I like the idea of it more than the practice of it this morning.
Blackey has just breezed in onto his favourite branch in the Orange tree, I’m surprised, it’s such a wretched day but he looks so wide-eyed and awake. He does this rain dance thing that I suspect is more feet warmer than showmanship, whatever it is, it brings an early morning rhythm to the backyard.
I was wondering, if there really is a ‘road less travelled’, and if you wanted to get on it, where do you find the signposts? I mean, how is it different from any other road? I’ve just heard the whispers is all, and I figure if I’ve heard of it probably every other man and his dingo has too!
I need a companion, the four-legged kind to enjoy my days with. I miss my old cat Banjo, we had some marvellous adventures together. When I first got him his rap sheet said, “MDT” – Male Domestic Tabby and he had an alias. He seemed to take to his new name Banjo like it was always meant to be his name. He had the soul of a poet for sure.
We should be able to say that about all our companionships, two and four-legged alike. I was reading Banjo Paterson’s “The Wargeilah Handicap” old boy and I thought of you. Perhaps I’ll have elevenses. A Pink Elephant to cheer on the memory of you. For the uninitiated, that’s a gin, lemonade and bitters with a splash of real lemon juice a twist of lemon and no ice. Cheers Banjo.
