First Mate "Cuddles"

OK everyone today seems to be a bit of a struggle. I’ve been crook with the flu all week, given it to PG, because I love her & we share stuff. Like she wore one of my shirts to work yesterday, so I gave her my flu. Fair is fair. Yeah?

However, I don’t really think she’s overly happy with me for sharing the flu with her, go figure. It’s a little bit difficult to think about humorous things with, like this cloud hanging overhead.

But, as PG always reminds me, laughter IS the best medicine, so, with this in mind, lets invoke the SOP’s & the addition of rule 101.

For any newbies reading this for the first time, I’ll explain ‘em to you. Those who want a drink, glasses in the cupboard, coffee mugs next to ‘em, kettle on the bench, white wine & the milk are in the fridge, red in the pantry, bourbon in the cupboard, ice in the freezer.

While you’re up, some one grab Uncle Furry a big glass, chuck in ½ a dozen ice cubes, fill it up with bourbon. Pull up a bit of floor & relax for another installment of the Furry Chronicles.

These stories go way back, when Furry wasn’t even going to Primary School. We, (Mum, Dad & Furry) moved into a new estate in Keon Park, and were one of the two first houses in the area.

There were paddocks everywhere. We lived directly across the road from Burbank Primary School, which was my first school I ever went to. There were roads all around so I could ride my bike, (bicycle), flat out (as fast as possible) around the court behind my parent’s house.

Anyway, being an only child at the time, and there not being any other houses, let alone kids around, one had to play with imaginary friends. Cuddles my Cocker Spaniel was my partner in crime.

The best thing my Father ever did for me was he somehow got his hands on an old wooden motorboat, (there was no motor & the thing was rotting under my very feet), but as a little boy, it became my palace.

This boat was a Destroyer one day, next a Battle Ship, then a sailing skip, next day an old Tea Cutter, next it was an aircraft carrier, (even became a sub on a few occasions, mostly after a good rain).

Cuddles was my first mate, but sometimes the only order “First Mate Cuddles” would effectively undertake was the command to “sleep”. Lucky the boat was firmly sitting on its keel with 100% contact with good old mother earth, because there were occasions where her refusal to follow a direct order almost got her keelhauled!

Now, the first part of the story takes shape, this particular day young Furry was belting around the court on his pushie, when he attempted to “brake & corner”. Unfortunately it was a little too late & at a pace just a little to quick.

Being a Furry, and not always learning from previous life’s experiences, it's something I'm guilty of doing a couple of thousand times since, on things a whole shit load quicker & heavier.

Anyway the pace caused the front wheel to wash out & young Furry to "kiss the asphalt”. The tyre rolled off the rim & that forced young Furry to walk home, missing a considerable amount of “bark” (skin) & what looked to be a fair amount of sap (blood) flowing from all the new grazes.

Well, it was always easier & quicker to walk through the paddocks. Picture a little Furry, dragging his wrecked pushie along, heaps of bark missing, sap flowing, tears, snotty nose & dirt all over. All I needed was a bandage around my head, (I had the limp going as well), and I would’ve resembled a walking wounded from the Civil War.

Feeling ABSOLUTELY miserable, when all of a sudden, I struck gold. There it was, in all its glory, absolutely magnificent, a toy gun.

Well as any respecting Furry would do, I picked it up. Now there wasn’t a house in the area that had another kid, not for miles anyway, so it was definitely a case of “finders keepers”.

Now this was a beaut, (wonderful thing), and heavy, like you’d better believe it!

They just don’t make toys like this any more! Home I go, at a million miles an hour, throw the bike in the shed, have totally forgotten about the previous "crippling pain" & summoned “First Mate Cuddles” and off we sail.

I spent the afternoon fighting the battle of Midway, Pearl Harbour & the Malta blockade, all at the same time, single-handed, and of course, winning. The missing bark & the drying sap all adding to the ill effects of war.

For hours I was busy, with my new toy. IF it were capable of firing rounds the barrel would have been glowing red hot.

My father turned up after a day at work to see his urchin of a son, deep in play, and “First Mate Cuddles” faithfully following the “fast a sleep” order she’d obviously received earlier that afternoon.

“Where’d you get that boy?” my Father asked.

“In the paddock, no where near anywhere” was my chuffed reply.

“Can I have a look at it?” dear Dad asked.

“Yep, but it’s mine & I want it back” demanded young Furry.

These were the terms & conditions of inspection and as far as Furry was concerned they were “Not Negotiable”

“You know, I’ve got a friend who would be really interested in just having a look at this, it would make him very happy to see this. Can I call him & just keep it ‘til he gets here? I’d hate for it to get broken before he could get a good look at it” dear Dad announced after quite a detailed inspection.

Well that wasn’t well received, but negotiations with rewards of both fireworks (5 bobs worth, or fifty cents in today’s speak) AND 2 bob (twenty cents) of mixed lollies sealed the deal.

Well fuck me, it turned out that Dad’s friend was a Policeman, and he was very interested in my gun & where it was found. So were his Police mates, who came down, put sticks in the ground, and tape all around the place.

Years later I was told it was a 9mm Luger, (Second World War German Pistol) & there was a round (live bullet) in the chamber. Almost a full clip (magazine), as well. Thankfully the rust was sufficient that I couldn’t pull the trigger with my little hands.

Turned out, it was a suspected murder weapon. Good news, yeah right! The Policeman was sufficiently wise to bring over ANOTHER toy gun, which he swapped with mine, plus the initial 70 cents my Dad owed me was matched cent for cent by the Policeman. $1 worth of fireworks took me (and Dad) a whole week to discharge.

However 40 cents of lollies took no time, but made me soooooo sick.

Copulater!!