Loxie this is your life

LOXIES STORY
To be the guardian of a unique animal such as a Dingo is a challenging honour that has
enriched our lives and changed our future for ever. Like most people, we had a fascination
with the Dingo species yet we still held some of the misperceptions and myths in our minds.
Having cared for Blue Heelers for the past 16 years and knowing that they are descended from
an original Dingo Cross with a Scotch Merle in Queensland back in 1832, finding a Dingo female
to breed with Teddy our youngest Blue seemed like a logical step. A concept that we now see as
very naïve and abhorrent in the face of what we have since learned about the plight of the
Dingo.
Being the owner of a large pet supply store, I came into contact with a couple, Rene & Alan,
who cared for a young female Dingo by the name of 'Coyote'. On seeing her for the first time I
went over and uttered the now very familiar words, “Is that a Dingo?” Of course she was, and
what a beautiful animal. One of the friendliest creatures I have ever encountered and she
welcomed my approach with a HUGE smile, wagging tail and big wet kisses that wouldn't stop. I
was hooked. I spoke with the couple for a while and we talked about Coyote, where they found
her, what was she like, how did she get on with other dogs, people, kids? We discussed the
possibility of breeding her with our Heeler, Ted the next season. We kept in touch and I met
'Coy' a few more times over the next few months and I was always enchanted with her when she
came into the store. Coyote was an accomplished escape artist and Rene & Alan were often in
for advice and equipment that usually worked well for animal containment. The planned mating
with Ted never occurred as 'Coy' had been 'had' by a local Labrador whilst AWOL. In hindsight
this was probably the key factor in deciding where our lives are now and what our future holds.
Knowing that Ted’s intended mate was now off the list we became aware of some Dingo Pups
that were available. We didn't hesitate in making contact and were literally over to see them in
a matter of hours. Little 'Long Socks' as she was known to the young girl of the house chose us,
or should I say, Daz. For when he picked her up she looked him straight in the eyes and
proceeded to fall fast asleep in his arms, snoring loudly. The other Pups scuttled about
disinterested and full of beans but 'Long Socks' was happy to snooze away and make herself at
home. Her mother, Honey, a demure, shy little desert Dingo popped her head around the
corner, gave a look & a bit of a sniff and went back into the kitchen where the pups followed
her, 'tout suite'.. Long Socks stayed where she was, oblivious in her contentment. Her father,
Chiba, a big handsome woolly Alpine, strolled in and squarely shoved his snout firmly into Daz's
crutch and gave a deep, prolonged and very audible snort & huff. A very disconcerting moment
for Daz who had his arms full of the big Dingo's baby daughter at the time.. After this 'greeting'
and 'inspection', Chiba turned his head up to face Daz and looked at him for second and flicked
his nose towards 'Long Socks' as if to say, “OK you can take her, but look after her or else.” He
the sauntered off into the kitchen to check on the rest of his family.
Less than a minute after leaving with 'Long Socks' curled up in my lap this time, we were
discussing what we should name her. Having bred Heeler pups such as Ted from his mother
Poppy & father Buddy, we always named the pups and hoped that the new owners would retain
the given names as they were accustomed to them. It seemed right that we should retain the
name 'Long Socks' in some form but It was hard to envisage us running at the park calling out,
“Long Socks, Looonngg Socks, come back please!” So we settled on 'Loxie'. Yes, way more
'butch'. And it suited perfect. She was golden and we had three Blue heelers. 'Goldie Loxie & the
Three Bears'
We arrived home and the 'Three Bears' all lined up to greet 'Loxie'. Ted was rather excited
thinking she was a new fluffy toy to play with, Bud was a little confused looking, wondering
where this 'child' had come from as Poppy certainly didn't have it, and Poppy looked at her and
you could see in her mind that she was thinking, “Oh Hell, Lookout!”
Loxie the Dingo at four weeks old was now at home with her new family Pack, the dynamics of
our house had changed completely. Four weeks old may seem very young to be taking home a
Pup, but you must remember that Dingoes are not dogs and develop at twice the rate. At four
weeks old she was completely weaned and independent of maternal care. Being mindful that a
Dingo is still a wild animal, it is also at this age that a Dingo will better bond with human
companions, much older than this and you may find that a Dingo will have a wandering and a
too aloof, independent nature.
We became guardians of Loxie that night. We did not buy a Dingo pup, we paid for the privilege
of becoming part of her family. We began to familiarise ourselves with the Dingo species and
quickly became aware of their special needs and social requirements. We became aware of
their troubled past and their dubious future. We became aware that we had to do something
more than just care for Loxie the individual, but Loxie the DINGO and what she represented not
just to us but to her species as a whole. Teddy the Blue Heeler was given the news that this
young Dingo Loxie was, ‘out of bounds’ as a mate and we promised to find him some nice
country girl to romance and perpetuate his illustrious bloodlines. The biggest threat to the
Dingo species is cross breeding and dilution of their DNA with common dogs. The idea of
contributing to the extinction of the Dingo by encouraging this now seemed abhorrent.
The other and most demoralizing threat to the Dingo is the Federally sponsored programs that
intend to make extinct the Dingo in the wild by poisoning, trapping and shooting them on sight,
even to place a bounty on their heads to encourage the slaughter. The reasoning behind this is
that it is to protect other native species such as bandicoots and quolls etc. A flawed argument
considering that the bandicoots and the quolls seemed to survive pretty well on their own with
the Dingo for many thousands of years before man sailed in with his sheep, goats, rabbits, pigs,
dogs, cats & foxes. Government Environmental Departments with their heads shoved squarely up
their behinds looking deep into the early 20th Century completely ignore independent scientific
research and continue the damaging eradication programs, dropping millions of poisonous baits
across an entire state to inhumanely wipe out the Dingo, leaving the landscape devoid of a top
predator to keep the balance and restore order to the ecological chaos that the introduced
species have caused. Ruminants and herbivore populations explode and denude the countryside
of all vegetation leaving nothing but stumps and dust. The Dingo eats less than one percent of
the total national sheep population. More die on live export ships to Saudi Arabia. And for those
farmers that claim that the Dingo kills way more? How many of them were actually killed by
Dingoes and how many got written up falsely as ‘wild dog predation’, but really ended up down
the Pub as a dressed side of lamb for a quick 50 bucks under the table and nice little tax
deductable loss??
Safely at home, young Loxie developed very quickly. The best nutrition available and the
‘product tester’ for every new toy or bed I stocked in my store, her body and mind was well
catered to. She spent every moment with either me or Daz. She went to work with Daz on his
delivery runs for the store and travelled to every outing, BBQ or dinner we were invited to.
Some questioned this ‘need’ to take her everywhere to the point of being, ‘Over the Dingo’,
demonstrating a complete lack of understanding of our commitment to Loxie. Spoilt? Maybe.
Part of the family? Definitely. It was this extreme socialisation that made Loxie what she is
today. She literally met thousands of people in her early months of development and changed
many people’s perceptions of the Dingo. At the store she would meet and greet people all day,
smiling, wagging her tail exuberantly and planting kisses on anyone who requested. She was also
well socialised with the many dogs that visited the store and would ruff house play with her best
friend ‘Chopper’, a young Staffy pup that belonged to my assistant manager. On her daily
delivery runs with Daz, she became acquainted with the many farm animals she encountered
and although the larger animals sometimes confused and frightened her a little, she was
fascinated with the smaller, edible looking creatures, such as the chickens and ducks. It was at
these times that you were reminded that she was at heart a wild animal and her instinctive
‘prey drive’ was well and truly intact and functioning.
It is this inherent ‘prey drive’ that provided the next contact with Rene, Alan & ‘Dingo Coyote’.
They had moved house with Coyote and one of the female pups from the Labrador litter. Coy,
being the good mother and ‘Houdini’ that she was, had been getting out with her young girl,
teaching her skills as she would in the wild. Unfortunately one of those skills was the hunt, and
the prey happened to be one of the neighbours inviting chickens. The first time was excused and
apologies accepted but after the third time the Ranger was called to mediate. The
heartbreaking decision was made to try and re home Coyote. An extremely difficult process as
Dingoes generally bond for life with their guardians and the usual outcome is to euthanize the
Dingo. A Dingo will sometimes pine to the point of starving themselves to death or develop
unacceptable destructive behaviours.
We received a call from Rene and Alan asking if we still wanted a Dingo and related the story of
Coy and her daughter’s adventures and the dilemma they now faced. Explaining to them that
Loxie was now part of our family that we couldn’t really take on Coyote but we would see what
we could do. A week later the situation became desperate and Coyote faced destruction at the
local pound. There was no other option, we took her in. Loxie was only three months old at the
time and her first meeting with Coyote was pure joy. She adored Coy, and Coy couldn’t have
been more tolerant of Loxie’s constant attention and need for interaction. A three month old
Dingo has teeth like razor blades and fangs like needles but Coyote took this all on without a
concern, and the two of them took over the entire house. Chaos reigned and our house, once
known many years ago as ‘WOLF MANNOR’, was truly living up to its name. I can only imagine
what the neighbours must have thought with two Dingoes howling out the upstairs windows.
Coyote was making herself at home and Both Daz & I were falling for her. There was a real
danger that we would end up allowing her to stay. This wasn’t fair on Loxie whose development
may be affected by having her social pack reorganised. And it certainly wasn’t fair on Poppy our
aging Blue Heeler who was the reigning matriarch of our little pack.
The call went out to find Dingo Coyote a new home. A week went by and no luck was had.
Scouring the internet and posting a plea video on Youtube resulted in a couple of viable
responses. One was for a cognitive research program at an Adelaide university and the other
was at a Dingo Sanctuary in Victoria. Both a very long, long way from Perth. And we had to get
her there. The options were weighed up and the best chance for a successful re-homing was
determined to be the Sanctuary where, if her DNA proved pure, Coyote would join the breeding
program and play a vital role in the continued future of the Dingo. She would be with other
Dingoes and be able to run in large adequately fenced enclosures that would test her Alcatraz
defying skills.
The old Commodore station wagon was packed up and Daz, Loxie and Coyote began their
journey across the Nullarbor to Victoria.
Navigating from home, I planned Daz’s route and texted and phoned him of his next scheduled
stop, planning overnighters in caravan parks and accommodations where ‘dogs’ were welcomed.
It was on this journey that Daz encountered the true redneck mentality and most disgusting
instances of Australian culture and human nature. Along the Nullarbor, on a dead straight road a
truck was seen to purposefully swerve to actually collide with an animal. This animal was a
young male Dingo, not much older than Loxie. Daz stopped and moved the dead juvenile from
the road, appalled at what behaviour he had just witnessed. Further along while refuelling
somewhere in South Australia, Loxie & Coyote caught the eye of a toothless flannel shirted local
sitting in his ute, resplendent with gun rack, an over abundance of spotlights and stickers
covering the vehicle demonstrating his fondness for Bundaberg Rum. “They’re Dingoes hey
mate? I’d get fifty bucks each for them.” he croaked. Daz’s response was to inform the yokel
that, “I’d get LIFE for you mate. Now F-ck off!” This was all witnessed by the local Constabulary
who after Daz complained about the threat to Loxie & Coy, the reply was that, “Dingoes are
classed as vermin and we’re supposed to shoot them on sight.” Daz moved on after informing
the officer that if he came across that Ute run of the road ahead he might want to fuel up now
because, “I won’t be stopping till I’m out of this F-cking state of yours.” But having to overnight
somewhere I navigated Daz to a small Hamlet called Port Germein, halfway between Port
Augusta and Adelaide. It’s claim to fame is having the distinction of having the longest wooden
jetty in the world. This was a pleasant stop for the group and Daz took advantage of the jetties
length to take the girls for a run. You’ve heard of ‘Dances with Wolves’, how about ‘Running
with Dingoes.’ Try keeping up with two energetic Dingoes on a long lead that are running down
a five foot wide jetty two kilometres out to sea at dusk. The locals here were genuinely
welcoming to Daz, Loxie & Coy, and went some way to restoring his faith in Humanity.
The rest of the trip to Victoria was fairly uneventful and within 24 hours of leaving sleepy Port
Germein, they had arrived at the gates of the Dingo Discovery & Research Centre in Toolervale
Victoria. The Sanctuary is run by Lyn & Peter Watson, extremely well credentialed champion
dog breeders and international All Breed judges, both now dedicated to the conservation and
preservation of the Dingo. These people know their Dogs and they know the Dingo even better.
Lyn is arguably the world’s foremost authority on the Dingo. Coyote was to be in good hands.
After everyone had become acquainted and refreshed, Loxie & Coyote were able to take
advantage of the generous exercise enclosures and stretch their legs after the long trip east,
recovering from being either cramped in the wagon or tethered together at a caravan park.
They looked at home running with the other Dingoes. DNA swabs were taken which eventually
proved Coyote’s pure heritage. Discussions turned to Loxie and her parentage etc. It was a mind
blowing revelation that Loxie’s Father, Chiba, was the Son of two of the resident Dingoes,
Teddy & Dottley. Loxie was indeed home, and we had no idea up until that moment. Giving her
the opportunity to meet her grandparents, aunties, uncles and cousins was, I am sure as
rewarding to Daz as it was for Loxie to, ‘run with the pack’.
Daz was invited to stay in the guest house to rest for a few days before he headed home. Daz,
being who he is couldn’t stay idle for long and went about helping where he could, putting his
mechanical skills to use, fixing the ride on lawnmower and helping out with repairs to the
irrigation and water systems. There was time to attend a local Christmas party before preparing
to head home to WA with Loxie, who was surely missing me as much as I was her & Daz. Daz’ &
Loxie made the trek back across the Nullarbor, exploring along the way, taking the time being
together and enjoying every kilometre of it. Daz & his Loxie. Loxie & her Daz.
I have to mention at this point, that whenever I stop to contemplate the ‘Dingo Coyote Needs a
New Home’ story, I am reminded of the enormity of just what Daz did. I know of no other
person that would place their life on hold, ten days before Christmas, while every effort is
devoted to finding the perfect home. Organising and driving a not that reliable car thousands of
kilometres across a continent. Encountering prejudice and ignorance along the way, seeing the
project through to the end. It beggars belief. Or it would, if it hadn’t happened again. More of
that a little later.
They arrived home just before Christmas and Loxie once again became the focus of our lives.
Loxie’s early socialisation with people, children and other animals put her into good stead for
her role as ambassador for the Western Australian Dingo Association. Loxie attended seminars,
group outings, television appearances, newspaper photo shoots, Scouting Jamborees and other
promotional activities. She was growing out of her gangly puppy hood and soon reclaimed her
birth name of Long Socks, becoming known as ‘Lady Longsox’. Everyone thinks that their
‘children’ are beautiful even if they have a head like a cabbage, but people were constantly
commenting on Loxie’s prettiness. She had indeed grown into a most beautiful creature. But we
were again reminded that this most beautiful and placid Dingo was still a wild animal at heart
when one day around her first birthday, Poppy being Matriarchal pack head thought it necessary
to reprimand Loxie for a violation of pack order. Loxie took this opportunity to test Poppy’s
authority and issued a challenge followed by a brief but focused attack. Being more than ten
times Loxie’s age, Poppy was no match and found herself submitting to this young ‘Wolf’ and
walked away with a couple of puncture wounds and her Crown ripped from her paws.
Loxie now reigned as Alpha Female, Poppy had been deposed. Old Buddy also was the focus of
Loxie’s new rule on a couple of occasions and suffered similar and equally painful humiliation.
To this young Dingo in her prime they were fair game. You could see the confusion in her face
when she was reprimanded for the incidents. You could almost read her eyes, “They are so old,
they should be dead by now. They’re both infertile and they can’t hunt, they can hardly walk.
What use are they to the pack?” I should point out that reprimanding a Dingo does not involve
brute physical abuse. You have to think like a Dingo and act accordingly. Vocalisation and
isolation works well, nothing worse to a pack member that to be vocally reprimanded and have
deprivation of affection for a while. If that doesn’t work and the reprimand needs to be as
severe as the incident then it wouldn’t be uncommon to find Daz down on all fours with Loxie
on her back while he growls and bites her on the cheek or lips. It works, and is well understood.
Any form of slapping or hitting is pointless and would just incite disrespect and defiance. Once
you lose the respect of a Dingo you are not likely to earn it back without great effort.
Loxie took her role of head of the pack seriously and wasn’t challenged again by the ‘Olds’. Her
relationship with Teddy was always playful and flirtatious as she obviously saw him as a
potential future mate. He tolerated her constant teasing and playfulness but would occasionally
get fed up with her and send her off squealing and yelping like a little piglet, bouncing and
spinning around the floor at his feet like some little demented fluffy toy with a broken elastic
band. He never bites her, just barks and snaps at her when he’s had enough. It’s all a game to
her and part of pack play. She thinks it so much fun to torment him.
In mid 2007 Daz bought a Van. It’s an American import like an F-150 but the panel van version.
The same as the ‘Scooby Doo Mobile’. As going overseas for Holidays together were not a likely
option now because we doubted anyone could be trusted enough to care for Loxie properly
while we were away, the van seemed like a perfect idea to travel the country when time
permitted, camping and staying in ‘dog’ friendly accommodations along the way. An opportunity
came up in late 2007 where I had to be in Queensland for a work commitment. I suggested that
Daz drive the ‘Loxie’ van to Victoria and I will fly from Queensland and meet him there. The
only problem was that the ‘Loxie’ van was unlicensed and needed to be gutted and completely
refit, upholstered and have an LPG gas conversion kit fitted and certified, in 6 weeks. True to
form, Daz put in an amazing effort and the job was completed, on time if not entirely on
budget. We even had big full size window stickers made up with photos of Loxie over the van.
The later addition of custom licence plates, “LOXIE” made the van complete.
As I jetted off to Queensland, Daz, Loxie and Ted started their journey east to Victoria. Our
friend Nathan was entrusted with the care of Poppy and Buddy here in Perth. We had planned to
arrive there about the same time but Daz made record time and got there a full day and a half
before me. Obviously skipping through South Australia as quickly as possible. This wasn’t
completely necessary as I had planned ahead and went to the Department for Environment and
Conservation and obtained a ‘Wildlife Export/Import Permit’ for Loxie to safely travel across
State lines. The permit was a complete joke and demonstrates the complete ignorance of our
States environmental department. It lists Dingo under the taxonomical reference of Canis
Familiaris, not Canis Lupis Dingo as it should. In effect they gave me a wildlife permit for a
common dog. Dingoes are recognised internationally under the correct taxonomy yet in WA they
refuse to recognise the Dingo as a pure and separate species. To them they are just ‘wild dogs’,
thus giving the Department the power and authority to kill them all. Ignorance and greed fuels a
powerful industry dependant on the continued manufacture and distribution of 1080 baits.
Environmental departments petition for their valuable ‘research’ funding into ways to better
‘manage’ (read ‘better exterminate’) wild dogs. And get it. The cycle perpetuates itself.
I flew into Melbourne to be greeted at the airport by Daz, Loxie & Ted. Loxie was thrilled to see
me there and although it had only been a few days, you would have thought she hadn’t seen me
for a month. It was fantastic for me to finally meet Lyn and Peter and to see the sanctuary first
hand. I wanted to see all the Dingoes and meet Loxie’s Grandparents and extended family, but
most of all I wanted to see Coyote. I was taken straight down to see her and upon seeing and
recognising me she immediately went berserk. A whole year had passed yet she knew me
instantly and her smile nearly tore her face in half. The nice clean travel clothes I was wearing
were quickly covered in muddy feet and I was bathed from forehead to chest in big sloppy kisses
and affectionate nibbles. Her protective mate, Yaouk tried to muscle in and show his dominance
but he was quickly sent off by Coy who obviously wears the pants firmly around her waist in that
household. He was not to interrupt her reunion with me and was told in no uncertain terms. She
looked fantastic and had developed her own woolly coat to protect her from the sometimes
bitterly cold Victorian weather. She was after all a Dingo with Pilbara heritage and this was
definitely Alpine country. The few days that we were there were indeed very cold but worse
than that it howled a gale the whole time and the rain came down sideways. Coyote rarely
came out of her den on days like this and prefers to stand on her kennel so as to not get her
feet wet. I was informed that I must have been considered a privileged visitor to even get her
out of the den let alone for Coy to ignore the wet ground. She had become a ball of muscle and
was in top condition. Her escape skills had not diminished and she was in need of constant
vigilance when out in the exercise yards as the ten foot fences with ‘hot’ wires were no real
challenging obstacles for her and she had done a runner on a number of occasions. She seemed
happy and content and I was relieved that our efforts and Daz’s Herculean trek the year before
had been worthwhile.
Loxie was enjoying herself back at the Sanctuary. Being a few months older than that year’s
crop of pups she was in her element displaying her playful dominance with the young rascals.
One of the Pups, a white female, Sassafras seemed to be in charge of the little pack and took
delight in playful challenges with Loxie. Sas’ also took delight in bullying a very young
newcomer, Aramis, a Black & Tan pup who was rescued in Queensland after his parents had
been murdered. Loxie took him under her wing and played with him encouraging him to join in
on the fun. He seemed to come out of his shell a little in those few days.
The visit was over all too soon and we headed off towards the coast where I had booked three
days accommodation at a pet friendly ‘farm stay’ near Deans Marsh. Loxie & Ted were both
thrilled to be allowed inside the cottage and took full advantage of the nice comfy leather
lounges making themselves completely at home. Playing ‘Dingo’ at the Sanctuary is fun, but
being ‘Lady Longsox’ Ambassador for the WA Dingo Association has its benefits. The ‘fun’ was
back in the morning when we all went yabbying and Loxie tried her had at catching her own.
Being unsuccessful she was more inclined to steal the ones Daz had just caught. Opportunistic
little monkey she is. We spent the next few days exploring the local area, walks along the pier
at Lorne and meeting the friendly locals. Loxie was a constant focus of attention. “Yes she is a
Dingo”, was constantly being repeated along with the story of who she is what she represents
and the plight of the Dingo in general. She was truly living her ambassadorial role now. We were
invited warmly into cafes and pubs, Loxie even shared a plate of Lobster with Daz at the Lorne
Pier restaurant.
Continuing on along the Great Ocean Road we stopped at the ‘Twelve Apostles’ in Port
Campbell National Park. The place was absolutely crawling with tourist from every country. The
skies were abuzz with joy flight helicopters and it looked like complete mayhem. We were not
going to let a photo opportunity like this go by for ‘Lady Longsox’. So, mindful of the signs all
over the place declaring that ‘dogs’ were not permitted in the park. We grabbed our ‘export
permit’ & our Dingo and walked purposefully into the park and down to towards the viewing
platforms. We hadn’t even made it to the platforms before the chattering of the tourists in
many languages offered up the familiar term “Dingo, Dingo!” Time to go to work Lox. After the
initial photo stops before the main platforms, we again tried to make our way to the viewing
area. Loxie was the centre of attention. When we finally did reach the main area people again
started to chatter, “Dingo Dogu?” Time to shine Loxie, and she did. Standing back away from
the crowds I could see people’s focus slowly turning from the absolutely stunning landscape
before them around to this young beautiful Dingo in their midst. Cameras were turned away
from the ‘Apostles’ and aimed at Loxie. It was a surreal experience. Helicopters swarming above
in sunny skies. People shrieking excitedly and snapping away at Loxie. She was indeed at that
moment like a ‘Rock Star’. One incident could have marred that whole event but the
eventuality was that it made it even better. One local Aussie Yokel sans-flannel shirt but
resplendent in thongs, took it upon himself to inform Daz that, “Dogs aren’t allowed in here
mate, it’s a National park you have to get it out.” Told by Daz that, “She’s not a ‘dog’, she’s a
Dingo and a native animal and she had more of a right to be in a National Park than you do.”
And that he could, “Go f-ck himself!” He Flip Flopped off to the nearby Ranger and complained.
He was told that, “She’s obviously not a ‘dog’ mate. You should mind your own business.”
On we went along the coast, spending a couple of days in Portland Victoria, taking the time to
carry out some much needed repairs to the van. We booked a small self contained cabin at the
Henty Park caravan park where ‘dogs’ were permitted inside. It was here that we had an event
that in hindsight seems funny but at the time was completely the opposite. The nights we
stayed there coincided with a Dog Show event in Portland and there were many dogs in the park
at the time. Daz had just completed the repairs to the van and was just bringing it back to park
up next to the cabin after a test drive. Loxie was inside with me and Ted but upon hearing Daz
drive up in the van, jumped up at the sliding door and in one quick manoeuvre undid the lock
and slid the door open, bolting like lightning out the door and up the lane. Off in hot pursuit,
Daz in his overalls and me in my underpants as I had just come out of the shower. We both ran
in the direction she headed and in the dim light there was not a lot to see but shadows. The
barking of dogs further along gave us indication of where she had headed. Daz managed to see
her flitting around one of the dog trailers where the barking was coming from. People came out
alerted by our shouting and the barking and enquired as to what was happening. Daz, probably
not thinking the clearest or speaking equally as unclear shouted that, “Our Dingo has gotten
loose!.” ... “A Dingo on the Loose?!?! Aghh!!” Doors were slammed shut and curtains were
drawn post haste. It was like a scene from a western movie when the ‘bad guys’ ride into town.
Daz managed to sneak up behind her as she was peering into one of the dog trailers. One of her
ears flicked back and she knew she had been spotted and Daz was at her tail. She leapt like a
coiled spring to make her escape but was caught mid flight by Daz. “Not so quick after all are
you Missy?”
After repairing the vans very worn out suspension with typical Daz ingenuity, we headed out of
Victoria and into Dingo unfriendly South Australia. We stopped at Victor Harbour for a couple of
days where we decided that we would take the ferry across to Kangaroo Island for a bit. Coming
from WA there is little opportunity for such road/sea trips and it sounded like a fun idea. We
Boarded the Ferry and as your ‘dogs’ were permitted on the top deck while the crossing was
made, Loxie joined us while Ted remained secure in the van on the vehicle deck below. She
took to the sea journey like an old ‘sea dog’ and again enjoyed being the focus of people’s
attention where she dutifully posed for the usual photographs like a well seasoned supermodel.
The crossing was smooth and fast and we were soon driving off the boat and onto Kangaroo
Island with Ted and Loxie. Loxie was very possibly the first Dingo to ever set foot on the island.
A restful stopover, we roughed it at a campsite in American River where Loxie was content to
laze by the shores of the inlet focusing her attention on the comings & goings of the local
Pelican population. Being named Kangaroo Island we were expecting to see a few of its
namesake. We saw not a single Boomer anywhere. Not a live anyway, plenty of dead ones on
the side of the road mind you.
It was time to make the long trek back to WA, not without a quick stop in the evening at Port
Germein and a walk along that jetty that I had heard so much about. It was good to be there
with Daz & Loxie. In the place that only a year ago, Loxie as a young Pup with Coyote took Daz
on that run along the very same spot. We drove through the night and made it to Ceduna in the
morning, checking into the Shelly Beach Caravan Park for a couple of days rest before heading
across the Nullarbor. Being mid November it was extremely hot, 40+ degrees and the beachside
location of the park made it a welcome and very refreshing place to stay. Loxie & Ted revelled
in the sheltered beach with its shallow and crystal clear azure blue waters. Loxie was in her
element and the genuine joy you could you could see on her face as she frolicked in the water
was rewarding. The little ‘Ambassador’ had earned her ‘holiday’.
Leaving Ceduna we made our way onto the Nullarbor. Our destination that night was the
Nullarbor Roadhouse where we knew there were wild Dingoes and an opportunity to see them
close up. Before getting there we had to cross the famous ‘Dingo Proof Fence’ A pathetic excuse
for a fence and a huge waste of Taxpayers’ money. Standing next to it Loxie stood up and could
reach the top. Should she have wanted she could have simply sprung herself clear over it in a
single bound. But I guess the 100’s of thousands of dollars they spend each year to maintain it
keep fencing contractors employed and the Pastoralists who get healthy cheques to maintain
their ‘section’ under private contract take the money with little question. Whether they
actually spend the money on fence maintenance or not is never verified nor accounted for.
Having kitted out the van with GPS navigation and a wireless broadband internet connection we
made good use of ‘Google Earth’ and detoured off the Eyre Highway towards the coast and
along tracks that hadn’t seen the wheels of a vehicle for obviously many decades. On the utter
edge of the Australian continent standing on the 100 metre high cliffs of the Great Australian
Bight, we stopped to survey the vista. Breathtaking does not convey the true experience of this
completely remote location in which we found ourselves. So with Loxie & Ted on a strong lead
grasped in Daz’s firm hand we took many photographs. I wandered to the edge for a better
perspective for a picture that took in the scale of the view an included Daz, Loxie, Ted and the
van parked up away from the cliff face. Shouting and gesticulating wildly, Daz warned me away
from the edge and when we got back into the van and zoomed in on the spot I was standing with
‘Google Earth’, a visible crescent shaped ‘crack’ in the earth about 50 metres long could be
seen exactly where I had been standing. An ‘overhang’ that could be seen by Daz from his
position but that I was completely unaware of. I could have dropped into the Southern Ocean at
any moment.
Getting late in the afternoon we headed back towards the bitumen, not before coming across a
rather large and deadly looking black snake in our path and further along, a couple of wild
Dingoes that ran along the track with us at full speed for a few hundred metres before hurtling
off into the landscape. On seeing them Loxie went absolutely nuts! Chortling and vocalising like
she had never done before. She knew what they were and wanted OUT to follow them. They
were healthy looking Dingoes about the same age as Loxie, well fed and in good condition.
Surviving in the most extreme, desolate and harshest of conditions. And doing it well.
We eventually made it to the Nullarbor Roadhouse and the sight that greeted us was appalling.
A couple of mangy, emaciated looking ‘dogs’ skulking around the Roadhouse rubbish bins. Surely
these were not the famous Nullarbor Roadhouse Dingoes? They were. These were not ‘Dingoes’
These were ‘dogs’ that had a Dingo like appearance. A Dingo is an opportunistic predator and
will take handouts from humans occasionally. These animals here were not taking the occasional
handout, they were surviving on scraps from the bins and refuse while hundreds of rabbits
literally bounced around them. These animals were devoid of ‘prey drive’ and were obvious
inbred dog crosses. The real Dingoes were back out towards the coast where we witnessed them
in their glory. If these animals were the first contact and observation that Nullarbor travellers
have it is no wonder the Dingo has been slandered with such a bad reputation in the region.
Later that evening, Daz took Loxie for a walk away from the Roadhouse. He was confronted by
the two young male Dingoes that we had seen earlier that day. They had obviously caught
Loxie’s scent and followed us back. The pheromones of a young healthy female Dingo such as
Loxie was obviously irresistible to them and the opportunity too desirable a temptation. They
were shy and wary, yet not aggressive in any manner. Loxie stood her ground letting the one of
the ‘boys’ give her a bit of a sniff. When they both moved in she backed up to Daz for a bit of
comfort. Daz, not wanting to be the instigator of a rivalry battle moved on with Loxie and
headed back to the Camp. There were Dingoes out here but they were not those pathetic
excuses skulking around the refuse at the roadhouse.
We left the Roadhouse the next morning and headed to the WA border. At the checkpoint our
Kangaroo Island Honey was duly confiscated, even though it was radiation treated, in a sealed
jar and came from an island with the most genetically pure and disease free honey bees in the
world. Didn’t matter.. YOINK! The van was searched for any other food items. Welcome back to
the Nanny State. We were about to head on through when Daz pulled out the ‘Wildlife Export’
permit. Well, this caused quite a stir. They were confused. A wildlife permit that says Canis
Familiaris, “That’s a dog? But she’s a Dingo.” After explaining to them the idiocy of their own
Department, adding to the confusion, phone calls were made back to D.E.C Headquarters in
Perth to get some direction. The permit was examined, photocopied and scrutinized. The digital
cameras came out, where once again Loxie was the focus. Not this time for a happy tourist
snap, but for an official mug shot to be emailed to Perth before entry would be granted. Loxie
the Dingo was in limbo, a ‘dog’ with a wildlife permit or a Dingo without a correct name.
Persona non Gratis. Eventually it was all too hard and we were allowed on our way. The whole
episode held us up a good hour or so and totally demonstrated the Department of Environment
& Conservation’s complete and absolute incompetence in the duties they are to perform. The
staff were nice enough and genuinely interested in Dingo Loxie, and related their own stories of
Dingo encounters at the WA border. All except the short little dumpy woman who was an
absolute Bitch and took delight in rifling through travellers cars confiscating anything edible she
came across.. Looking back now it is obvious why she was so ‘plump’.
Driving on back into WA we were just passing Madura Roadhouse where we spotted a dead sheep
in the side of the road, covered in crows, “Oh, poor thing,” we both hummed and then turned
to face each other with the same instant recognition. There was something small and white and
very much alive curled up amongst the flapping black wings. From 100km to zero in a matter of
seconds and sharp U turn, or was that ‘ewe’ turn, and I was out of the van and sending the evil
looking crows on their way. I collected the lamb that had seemed to have escaped injury or
attack by the crows and then we faced the dilemma of what to do next. A Dingo, a Cattle Dog,
two Humans and a Lamb. Loxie was restrained in the rear of the van. Ted was ordered to
behave himself which he did, and we bundled the very smelly fluff ball up in a towel on my lap
where it immediately relieved itself. Where to? We couldn’t go on with it. We were about to
head along the longest stretch of straight road in the world and many hours of travelling ahead
before getting anywhere. We headed the short distance back to the Madura Roadhouse where
we related the story of the Lamb & Crows, and of our journeys across the country so far. To
them the situation seemed somewhat amusing. This was sheep country and lambs die all the
time. No big deal. They could take it and see if anyone claimed it.. Most likely tho it would have
ended up in the Bain Marie as tomorrow’s lunchtime special. They suggested that it probably
came from Madura Station and we were given directions, “But they were probably out on muster
and no one would probably be there.” We took the chance and headed back towards where we
found the dead mother and the Lamb. The gates to the Station were only about 100 meters from
the same spot and we cautiously made our way in. Poison bait signs warned us that they were in
use on the property for ‘wild dog’ control. What the hell were we doing?! Driving into a Sheep
Station in a van plastered with Dingo Daz stickers and posters of Loxie the Dingo covering it. We
were half expecting to be greeted with shot guns and foaming at the mouth ranchers, this was
deep in enemy territory.. Absolute madness. About ten kilometres in we made it to the Station
house where, as predicted, no one was home. We made a makeshift pen with the materials
available and left the Lamb with fresh water in Loxie’s stainless steel bowl. Daz wrote a note on
the back of one of his DINGODAZ.COM stickers that explained the situation and our contact
details. We made our departure and with somewhat relief we were back on the road. We can
only imagine what stories have since unfolded in that township since the encounter with the
Lamb and its rescue. It must be a very amusing story. We will never know though, as we never
heard back. What happened to the Lamb? It probably did end up on the Station hand’s dinner
plates, or it could have reached maturity and ended up on our own. We will never know.
Arriving in Norseman later that night we made camp at the local caravan park. After travelling
for a good 8 hours smelling like a sheep truck, I made good use of the available hot showers,
much to Loxie’s disgust as she quite liked the aroma I was giving off and was continually rubbing
herself on me to get some of that delicious smell onto her. We finally got some rest. Coming
back from making coffee in the morning, I was greeted by a fellow traveller who had camped
next to us that night as he made his way to the showers. He had left the sliding door to his
camper open and his girlfriend was laying still asleep facing out the open door. Loxie was sitting
not more than three feet from her intently watching. I observed as the young lady awoke and
her eyes bugged wide open as she was greeted by the sight of a Dingo twisting her head,
‘exorcist like’ to match the girls sideways perspective. The van door slid shut very quickly and
Loxie turned to me with a big wry grin, seemingly knowing damned well what terror she had just
caused and took extreme delight in doing so.
We travelled on via Esperance and Albany, ending up spending the night in Denmark where we
caught up with an old friend. Loxie was back into her ambassadorial role as we had a coffee at a
local cafe. Seeing the end in sight we made the push homeward and were back in Perth later
that evening. What an adventure.
Christmas came and went and life went back to normal. Loxie & Daz, made the work deliveries
and I went back to running the store over the busy holiday period. Friends were arriving from
the USA mid January and were to stay with us for a bit. One of their planned trips while in WA
was to visit Monkey Mia and their world famous Dolphins. At the last minute we decided that we
would all go and the Loxie van, resplendent with the new custom ‘LOXIE’ plates carrying Daz,
myself, Loxie & Ted headed North. Nancy and Mickey borrowed the Commodore wagon that had
served Daz well on the original ‘Dingo Coyote’ run. We left Perth in the morning and made the
11 hour trip in one go, arriving at Monkey Mia in time to witness the beautiful sunset.
On the way up I had organised accommodation at the resort which was extremely ‘dog’
friendly. An air-conditioned Villa was ours with on suite and television. Better still it was
literally on the beach and was pure luxury compared to some of the digs we had stayed in on
the recent tip East.
Animal were not permitted inside but resourceful Loxie somehow managed to force her way in
and relaxed in the cool room. We spent three nights there and spent the days on the beach
swimming with the Dolphins an indulging in the warm clear waters. Loxie was fascinated with
the Dolphins and was not sure what to make of them.
She once again became ‘Rock Star’ Loxie as the resort was crawling with visitors from every
country. More photos were taken and there were constant discussions with tourists on the plight
of the Dingo. Everyone was appalled to learn of how we treat the Dingo in this country. Even
visiting fellow Australians were enlightened by the discourse. Another couple of dozen
‘conversions’ under her belt, Loxie and the Gang headed North to Coral Bay for a couple of
nights.
We stopped at the Stromatolites on the way back to the main highway. The place was absolutely
swarming with feral goats. Loxie wanted out to have a go at them as they were quite
aggressive. The owner of the gift shop told Daz to, “Let her go for it, the bloody things are
nothing but trouble and eat everything, we could do with a few less!” Where had they come
from? In ignorant wisdom a previous owner of the property had found difficulty in grazing sheep
in the harsh environment and thought that releasing a few goats that would better suit the
climate was a brilliant idea.
The twenty he released has since grown to over two hundred thousand that cover an area of as
many square kilometres. From Shark Bay all the way to Karratha there is nothing but thousands
of goats grazing the roadsides. This is an area where the ‘Western Shield’ program is in full
operation. Toxic 1080 baits are dropped from the sky and cover over half of the State of
Western Australia. The land is devoid of any key predator and introduced species such as these
goats breed exponentially. They do eat everything and when they have done so, move on in a
circular pattern timing it so well that by the time they get back to the starting point they go
round again, giving the vegetation just enough time to re-sprout. When their numbers grow too
large they dig up the roots of the trees and eat those too. What has happened over time is an
expanding desert that will never recover. The goats are allowed to continue breeding as they
sustain a lucrative pet meat industry that now relies on this cheap source of animal protein.
Powerful lobbying by this industry insists that the Western Shield program continue, against all
educated scientific and ecological advice. The last thing they want is a re-introduction of the
Dingo to the ecosystem, even though they would quickly control the exploding Goat numbers
and prevent the colonisation of Feral Cats & Foxes. Ignorance and monetary greed is destroying
our countries ecosystem and there is a cover-up at the highest levels of the Department of
Conservation and Environment to perpetuate the myths that support this industry.
Coral bay was wonderful. More time to lounge in the warm tropical waters and do a bit of
snorkelling. Loxie & Ted having a ball once again on the beaches. Back south we headed and
stopped a couple of nights in Kalbarri.. “Is that a Dingo?” the oft heard call, more greeting and
meeting. There was a local Dingo that wasn’t as friendly as Loxie, Locals related stories of its
poor temperament and surly nature. We have since found out that it’s not a pure Dingo at all
but a shepherd cross and completely un-socialized. Thank goodness Loxie made the visit to set
the record straight on the Dingo’s true nature. We hired a small boat and headed up the
Murchison River for a bit of exploring. Loxie up the front of the boat taking it all in her stride,
she had after all been on bigger boats than this and her sea legs were functioning.
Being in the Middle of a river that was a few hundred meters wide we thought it would be safe
to let Loxie off her tether and stand free on the bow of the boat. Spotting a Kangaroo on the far
off bank of the river, Loxie the ‘Dingo’ surfaced and she leapt into the water without a thought.
I have seen Barracudas swim slower and she was making top speed towards the river’s edge and
the blissfully unaware Roo. I was not far behind her, desperately trying to catch up while fully
clothed. She hit shallow water and started to run. I caught up and leapt at her and missed, she
was off again. Metres from the water’s edge a low flying bird diverted her attention for a split
second. I pounced on her and grabbed her tail. Gotcha!
It was all a game and a bit of fun for her. The terrifying reality was that had that bird not past
by at that second she would have made the river’s edge and been off after the kangaroo into
the Wilderness and associated dangers of poison baits. She would not have stopped at our calls.
Dingoes have selective hearing and absolutely no recall. They are prey driven and no amount of
beckoning would be effective when their minds are in ‘hunt mode’. We probably would have
had to camp out at that spot on the river for days until she returned, that is if she survived the
poisonous baits littering the national park. Safely back on the boat and back on the tether we
continued up river, finding a sunny spot on the shore to take a swim. Heading back in the
afternoon we cleaned up and went out to dinner where Loxie and Ted dined with us in the
alfresco section of the restaurant overlooking the river that had nearly caused us so much grief
earlier that day.
We called in to Dongara on the way back to Perth and Loxie was re united with her brother,
Kinkajou, from the same litter. They played for a couple of hours while we related Dingo storied
and happenings with his guardians. She had a ball and once again got to play ‘Dingo’, sharing
Kinky’s enclosure and generally running amok.
Back in Perth the usual routine kicked back in, a hot dry Summer as usual, BBQ’s to hold on the
deck, Firework shows to watch, work to be done around the house.
In March, old Buddy the Blue heeler took ill and within a matter of about four days his condition
had deteriorated. He was very old, sixteen years. He had trouble with his legs lately, one day he
was walking about fine the next he was struggling to move around. He went off his food and a
couple of days later he was having difficulty drinking. A trip to the Vet would be pointless and
he undoubtedly would not have returned home with us alive. We made him comfortable and
warm and carried him outside to do his business when required and spent some time laying on
the lawn with him out the front in the warm afternoon sunshine. He didn’t have much longer
and we all knew it. We brought him inside and made him comfortable in the bathroom. Daz & I
took turns being with him. Daz woke me about three o’clock in the morning and I came
downstairs and we sat with Buddy together, saying our goodbyes and waiting for the inevitable.
His breathing became shallow and laboured and in what seemed like an eternity but was
actually only about fifteen minutes he took his last breath, stretched out and was gone. The
devastation was absolute, we both balled like children. It broke our hearts. The next morning I
came home from work early so we could lay Bud to rest. I was in no fit state to work anyway, I
had just lost my eldest ‘child’. Poppy and teddy walked into the bathroom to pay their last
respects to Bud, their Husband and Father. Loxie made her way in after and with complete
sympathetic perception placed her paw on the sheet that covered Bud and looked up at Daz as
if to somehow say she understood. We laid Bud to rest in the bushland that backs onto our
property, It’s a peaceful and ideal spot for him, overlooking the plains below and many people
walk their dogs past every day, some laying little possies of flowers of their own.
Life went on for our slightly reduced little pack. We bought a new RV van. The same as the
LOXIE van but the larger extended model. Completely kitted with kitchen, toilet and sleeping up
to 6 people, also left hand drive. Just perfect for any more trips we may plan in the future. We
took the new van out for a test run on the Easter long weekend down to Dwellingup and camped
out. It was ideal and the location was perfect. This time we all went, Poppy included. We spent
a couple of warm sunny days by the river swimming and roughing it. Then the rains came so we
packed up and headed home. Well the van was tested and it seemed to work fine.
About a month after Bud’s passing a call came for Daz about a Dingo up north that needed
rescuing. A young female Pup had wandered into the Cotton Creek Aboriginal community near
Newman and had befriended the communities’ caretaker. She was making herself at home.
Cotton creek is luckily out of the reach of the horrific Western Shield program. The preferred
method of Dingo eradication up there is to inhumanely trap and shoot the creatures. Dingo Dog
as she was known then, had caught the eye of the local ‘Dogger’ who saw a crisp $50 note
sitting in her place. Her days were numbered. The local community didn’t want a bar of her as
she was much more effort to maintain and feed than their camp dogs of preference, little Jack
Russel crosses. They tolerated her but as she matured and began to become fertile she became
the attention of the little mongrels and was constantly being attacked. She had to go. The
caretaker could fly down with her in about six weeks but in that time she would have surely
faced the Doggers bullets.
A plan was made, Daz would take the LOXIE van up to Cotton Creek and collect Dingo Dog, DD,
and then bring her back to Perth. Rest for a few days. He would then switch vehicles to the New
RV the LONGSOX van and head over to the Dingo Discovery Centre where Lyn had once again
agreed to take in another Dingo, this young wild born female.
Daz & Loxie headed North, a three thousand kilometre round trip back to Perth. He was well
prepared, having no idea just how ‘wild’ this young Dingo would be, he went up with a vile of
sedation tablets and a vet crate to contain her. This Dingo’s closest contact with humans had
been the occasional pat on the head. The locals were scared of her and didn’t trust her. After
driving 24 hours nonstop through some of the harshest and most inhospitable countryside this
continent can offer, people had died on the infamous ‘Talawana Track’, Daz arrived at the
community. DD was there, sitting up high on the caretakers Ute, out of the reach of the
snapping jaws of the locals’ little mongrels. Loxie looked on from the air-conditioned safety of
the Van.
He spent a bit of time talking to her and within minutes she was letting him pat her and give her
a scratch and then a cuddle. She was wary of him but seemed to instinctively understand that
he was there to help her. He managed to get a collar on her, much to the astonishment of the
locals and she was given a sedation tablet to calm her down for the road trip back to Perth. She
had never been in a car before. Loxie herself caused quite a stir. No one there had ever seen
such a magnificent looking Dingo. She was in perfect condition with a thick lustrous coat. Loxie
was shown to the locals and the Elders admired her. After being put back into the van one of
the young men of the camp walked past the window. Loxie leapt at him and snarled. Behaviour
she has never displayed before that moment. He reeled backwards and stumbled away from
Loxie, visibly shaken. One of the Elders, an ancient looking old lady, chuckled at the event and
told Daz that Loxie was a good judge of character, “That boy is no good.” Aboriginal Dreamtime
stories usually portray the Dingo as a Spirit that can see into the Human soul and determine the
person’s moral worth. No wonder that the locals have such fearful respect for them. Loxie
obviously saw this man’s soul and determined him not to be trusted.
Daz, with Loxie and now with DD, the LOXIE van headed back to Perth. 52 hours from start to
finish and he was home. Pickup accomplished. Phase 2 kicked in and DD & Loxie were allowed to
get properly acquainted. As with Coyote’s visit, but this situation was somewhat reversed. Loxie
was now the older one who had to contend with DD’s constant need for play and attention.
Once again, ‘Wolf Manor’ lived up to its name. DD or Deedee as we now know her was given a
good scrubbing with medicated shampoo. She was in a real mess, bites and wounds from the
constant attacks of the camp dogs, her ears had been scratched clean of fur from problems with
mites and her legs were in a terrible state. Her diet in the camp would not have contributed to
good health consisting mainly of chocolate, Coke and chips. She definitely had a sweet tooth
and was caught scoffing a bag of sugar from the pantry. Her bath immediately stopped the
constant scratching and she settled in, making herself at home. She was a complete cuddle pig
and wanted constant attention and kisses. Very affectionate and loving, we could see that rehoming her would not be an issue. With both her and Loxie in full heat, this was driving Teddy
absolutely mad as there was constant ‘spotting’ and the pheromones for him must have been
overwhelming. Old Poppy just kept clear of the pair and kept to herself. Deedee was taken to
the Vet for a complete going over, we dewormed her and treated for heartworm and mites, she
was also put onto a course of antibiotics to help clear up her wounds and abscesses. Within days
she was a completely different Dingo. She had to be on her way, we were getting attached.
The ‘LONGSOX’ van was packed and prepared, Deedee was given half a sedation tab to calm her
down for the trip, Ted was given one too, as travelling in the van with the two desirable
females would have too much for the virile Boy.
Within a few days, the now familiar Nullarbor trek was over and Daz, Loxie & Ted, with new
arrival Deedee, were once again at the gates of the Dingo Discovery Centre, in Toolernvale,
Victoria. I flew over to meet them a few days later and see how Deedee was settling in.
While we were there we used the opportunity to have a bit of a getaway and test out the new
RV properly. We headed up to Bright, along the Great Alpine Road. What a beautiful place and
perfect timing for a visit. It was the weekend of the Autumn festival and the town was
completely booked out. The only ‘dog’ friendly campsite was a few kilometres out of town so
we set up camp there and made the trek into town on foot in the evening. It was freezing. We
headed for the Alpine pub and had a few drinks outside with Loxie & Ted. That warmed us up a
little and we staggered off back to the campsite. On our return Ted darted under the van and
came out covered in the foulest smelling grey/green slimy possum faeces you have ever
encountered. He then proceeded to pull Daz over onto the ground into the evil smelling stuff. A
bath for Ted and a shower for Daz at one o’clock in the morning in freezing conditions was not
planned but very necessary. Not the best end to what was a pleasant evening. The next morning
after a breakfast of bacon and eggs we headed back on foot into town. The trees were amazing.
In full Autumn colours it was like something you would find in Canada, not rural Australia. It was
mind blowingly beautiful. Loxie again donned her ambassador’s cap and performed her duties
stopping patiently for photographs and being extremely tolerant while Daz demonstrated the
flexibility of the Dingo. The festival was in full swing and people were everywhere. Loxie
accustomed to these crowds now, took it all in her stride. She was in her element, She was also
an Alpine Dingo and this is her ancestral stomping grounds.
We ended up back at the Alpine pub for a drink to finish of the day. There was a bunch of young
boys there in fancy dress, swinging fake swords & rifles. Completely out of control even with
their parents not more than a few feet away. I loudly declared that, “I can now see why some
animals eat their young!” much to the disgust of the irresponsible parents as they quaffed their
wines and tried to look important in their designer clothing. I took quite an offence to one of
the young brats pointing his gun at Loxie, yelling, “BANG BANG!” Having seen hundreds of
images with similarly brave adult ‘hunters’ and powerfully ‘real’ weapons standing over dead
mutilated Dingoes, did not sit well with me. I informed him that if it pointed this way again he
would be losing it and to “bugger off!” I honestly didn’t mean to trip the Kid over as I put my
legs protectively between him and Loxie, but if he had stepped on her as he was running around
fuelled on countless cans of ‘Red Bull’, and she had snapped back instinctively, who do you
think would have gotten the blame. Right! “That vicious Dingo just bit my child!” He had plenty
more teeth anyway.
We headed back towards the camp but not before stopping for another ‘quick’ drink at the
Bright Brewery. Loxie again charmed the guests and became acquainted with some rather better
behaved children who adored her. She rewarded them with a few licks and allowed some photos
to be taken with her.
The next morning we packed up and headed up into the mountains. Mount Hotham was only
50km away and we were hoping that there would be some snow up there. There was. And it was
an amazing experience for us all as we took Loxie for a run in the soft white and very cold
Snow. She seemed completely at home and was flipping about and having a wild time catching
‘snowballs’ thrown to her. An Alpine Dingo in the Alpine snowfields, she couldn’t have been
happier. In the space of less than ten days she had once again travelled the entire continent.
Going from extremely isolated desert conditions in the remotest part of the continent, to the
coldest snow covered Alpine regions. Encompassing both The desert heritage of her Mother,
Honey to the Snowfields of her father, Chibah’s ancestry.
We were again reminded that Dingoes were no longer welcome in their own territory as the
signs everywhere displayed the fact that there were ‘Fox baiting’ programs in place and that
‘pets’ were at risk.. The average Fox weighs in at 6.2kg yet the baits used in this program are
toxic enough to kill an animal 50kg. Why use 8 times more than necessary toxin unless the
intended victim is not a Fox but a Dingo. Why bother to disguise the murder as ‘fox baiting’??
I was flying back to Perth the next day so we headed back to the Dingo Discovery Centre. I left
the next afternoon leaving Daz, Loxie and Ted in Lyn and Peter’s good care. The Sanctuary was
in the process of building new accommodations for the Dingoes and Daz’s skills could be put to
good use. Loxie wasn’t afraid to get her paws dirty either.
I would manage OK in Perth without him for a while and he had no other commitments here to
force him back. “Keep him as long as you like,” I said. That was two months ago and I had to fly
back again just to get my Loxie ‘fix’. I’m back in Perth again, keeping myself busy with work,
looking forward to heading east again soon to be re-united with my family.
Loxie’s Little sister Nugget, has been helping me with my need for Dingo affections.. She is an
adorable little girl that almost rivals Loxie in her beauty. In fact, today is her first Birthday. She
is cared for by wonderful people who understand her special needs and have also committed to
the challenges of Dingo guardianship.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY NUGGET
Of course I miss Daz & Ted also, but my little girl is the one that I miss most. I do not simply
love her, I adore her, she is my world and I feel a huge gap in my life without her here. I have
just spent the past week going through the thousands of photos we have collected on our
Journeys with Loxie. It is an amazing story and one that really is only just in its infancy. I will be
flying back to the Discovery Centre in mid July to be there for the Gala opening of the new
‘Dingo Hilton’. Loxie has moved in there temporarily and has ‘shacked up’ with a handsome
young male by the name of Banjo. He seems quite taken by her and she may possibly come back
into ‘season’ if she bonds with him. Only nature will dictate this event and it is up to the young
couple what the future will hold.
Young Loxie is not yet two years old, she has grown from a little brown ball of fluff into a
stunningly beautiful and extremely well adjusted young Dingo. In her short time on this planet
she has travelled more, met more people, met more prejudice and achieved so much more than
most humans do in their entire lifetimes. She amazes me. She is truly unique. Even for a Dingo..
My dear little Coyote has also finally become a mother of pure Dingo pups. Her pairing with
Yaouk was successful and her contribution to the Sanctuaries DNA gene pool is vital for the
survival of the Dingo as a species. One day, the descendants of Coyote’s young litter will be
needed to re-populate the devastated regions of the continent where the short sighted and
greed motivated programs such as ‘Western Shield’ have almost wiped out the Dingo. And one
day, the Alpine descendants of the Dingo Discovery Centre will be re-introduced to the Alps
where they will perform the fox and cat control that is needed in those areas..
One Day..............
Visit : WWW.DINGODAZ.COM to see Daz & Loxie’s website. You will find more information on
the bottom of the main page on how you can help save the dingo from extinction. There are also
links to hundreds of Loxie’s pictures and Links to Daz’s Youtube Videos. Including,
‘Dingo Coyote Needs a New Home’
Please leave your comments in the guestbook when you visit.
All images and text ©Leigh Mullan 2008