pets afloat
October 5th 2006 06:32
Some pets love to be afloat!
How about yours or do you know pets that are afloat?
Mieke is my name and I belong to “LuAnn”, a Roberts 55’ cutter rigged steel ketch which we suspect may be a lengthened “Spray” design, built in Lake Macquarie in 1985.
I have the run of the boat except I can’t get down the hatch stairs to go below to help the cook with my dinner. I do number ones and twos wherever I choose and like to surprise the boys when they come on deck barefoot early in the morning to check on the trolling lures. Boy, do I learn some new language when they step in my specials!
I have a life jacket with my name printed on it and though I don’t mind wearing it when we cross rough bars I manage to do a Houdini act during dark and stormy nights and slip out onto the deck without it just to see if people a looking out for me.
Some of my favourite sport is to chew the navigator’s pencil into small pieces and I have acquired a taste for throwaway plastic cigarette lighters as well. I only really got into serious trouble when I chewed the aerial off the modem attached to the owner’s laptop which meant no more B.O.M. information on the net for our meteorologist. Our radio operator still loves me because I can’t reach the curly bits that hang off them but I am working on it.
Being a steel yacht there is nowhere soft and easy to bury my bones so I put them under bunk cushions until they are nice and ripe. Sometimes the crew find them first and give them to the fish! I guess it must be good for the fish because the fish taste pretty good. I particularly like to get up early and check the scuppers for flying fish. First I eat the wings so they can’t get away then I can go back and eat them at leisure during the day.
The owner of the yacht loves it when I lick him awake in the morning. I give him the taste of raw fish and he breathes something called gin all over me. I suppose that is ok, as I do like a grog myself. Best of all is if I can get my nose into a glass of port or even just lick the dew off a cold stubby on a hot day.
It is a dog’s life but I do love it very much. I have spent most of my time on boats now and would not give it up even to be able to bury bones in real dirt or to sniff real trees.
How about yours or do you know pets that are afloat?
Mieke is my name and I belong to “LuAnn”, a Roberts 55’ cutter rigged steel ketch which we suspect may be a lengthened “Spray” design, built in Lake Macquarie in 1985.
I have the run of the boat except I can’t get down the hatch stairs to go below to help the cook with my dinner. I do number ones and twos wherever I choose and like to surprise the boys when they come on deck barefoot early in the morning to check on the trolling lures. Boy, do I learn some new language when they step in my specials!
I have a life jacket with my name printed on it and though I don’t mind wearing it when we cross rough bars I manage to do a Houdini act during dark and stormy nights and slip out onto the deck without it just to see if people a looking out for me.
Some of my favourite sport is to chew the navigator’s pencil into small pieces and I have acquired a taste for throwaway plastic cigarette lighters as well. I only really got into serious trouble when I chewed the aerial off the modem attached to the owner’s laptop which meant no more B.O.M. information on the net for our meteorologist. Our radio operator still loves me because I can’t reach the curly bits that hang off them but I am working on it.
Being a steel yacht there is nowhere soft and easy to bury my bones so I put them under bunk cushions until they are nice and ripe. Sometimes the crew find them first and give them to the fish! I guess it must be good for the fish because the fish taste pretty good. I particularly like to get up early and check the scuppers for flying fish. First I eat the wings so they can’t get away then I can go back and eat them at leisure during the day.
The owner of the yacht loves it when I lick him awake in the morning. I give him the taste of raw fish and he breathes something called gin all over me. I suppose that is ok, as I do like a grog myself. Best of all is if I can get my nose into a glass of port or even just lick the dew off a cold stubby on a hot day.
It is a dog’s life but I do love it very much. I have spent most of my time on boats now and would not give it up even to be able to bury bones in real dirt or to sniff real trees.
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