Saturday, 21 April 2012

No swims, just walkin' the dog in Hunters Hill and Woolwich

We took le chien for a turn around Hunters Hill, one of Sydney's more salubrious suburbs. 

We sometimes pretend we live there, so Spanner drives the ute a little way down the peninsula and parks on a side street. We hop out, dust ourselves off, and stroll to Woolwich and back. 

Karma gives us away as intruders because she's a bitsa - bit o' this and a bit o' that. We bought her from the pound eight years ago for $230. 

Hunters Hill dogs are strictly purebred or, if not, a trendy combo such as labradoodle, cavadoodle, spoodle or scratchmynoodlewithapplestudel. 

HH dogs are bought from breeders, who charge a fortune for pooches so inbred that they come with a raft of genetic predispositions and health problems that cost their owners a small fortune. But in HH, money's not an issue.

I can't completely blame Karma for outing us. Spanner looks like he's been sleeping rough. On Friday he was wearing a smelly King-Gee shirt, shorts with chlorine holes and thongs*. 

I love Hunters Hill and Woolwich. So does Karma - she gets to sniff dogs she would never hope to meet in our low-brow neck of the woods. 

*Thongs = flip flops. Spanner only wears a g-string** at home.
**G-string = thong   

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