Heartless

 I just missed my window of opportunity to write another upbeat post. The job I mentioned in my last post didn't work out, but my dad was contacted by another one shortly afterward. And we got accepted. And as part of the job, we got a house as well. We spent 48 hours in comparative luxury, full of gratitude for how good our life had become. From our beautiful new house, we could see both the ocean and the snow-tipped mountains from opposite windows. The backyard was big enough to exercise the dogs and for the kids to play. It was five minutes from town, where besides every shop we could ever need, there was an agility club that not only did training but also held competitions three times a year. It couldn't be more perfect and I was happier than I had been for a long time. The future looked good. What a wonderful 48 hours it was. 

View to the west.

View to the east.

My lovely bedroom all set up on Saturday night.

But then yesterday morning, the boss/landlord turned up as we were returning from a walk down the road with our dogs. He seemed confused. He asked how many dogs we had. Even though that information was in my dad's cover letter and we had also told him at the interview, he claimed he "hadn't realized" how many we had. And he wasn't happy. We spoke at length with the boss about it, trying to compromise, but he could not be swayed.

And so our happy little life has imploded around us once again. We can stay here for the week, but after that, we have to leave. And go where? There's nothing. I'm devastated. I am so tired of everything going wrong. What is the point? Why does this keep happening? I gave up almost everything to come back to New Zealand and for a brief moment, I thought it may have been worth it. But now I wish I was still living in the bus on our empty property where at least we didn't have to worry about being kicked out and I had Logan and Pixie and my small group of friends.

Freedom

So after a whirlwind eight weeks to pack up thirteen years of life, and two weeks holding our breaths in mandatory isolation enduring regular temperature checks and two COVID-19 tests, we finally stepped outside into our New Zealand freedom around 6:30pm on July 23. 

Isolation went really fast though. Going into it, I was dreading two weeks with such strict rules and being without any pets (for the first time in twelve years). But with plenty of outside time in a fenced car-park (between 9am and 4pm), decent food, unlimited internet, and kindness from everyone on the staff and security teams, it was actually not that bad. Our room was comfortable and clean and we could step outside into our own private "smoker's area" whenever we liked, which was a lovely little foresty garden with a flowing stream. The only rules were you had to wear a mask at all times when outside your room (that did not include the smoker's area), keep 2 metres away from anyone outside your "bubble," and not linger in the hallways. The NZ government has done a great job setting this whole thing up.

This was the private smoker's area outside our windows and sliding door.

The exercise area. This was taken on a chilly, overcast day which meant there were very few other isolators out here.

We had a van and a caravan to pick up once we were free. And we had almost secured a dairy farm job with a house before leaving iso too, but the day before we were released, we got some bad news. We were told it would take about two weeks to find out if we could have the job or not, but in the meantime, we collected our pets and booked into a caravan park, and continued to apply for other jobs in case the original one doesn't work out. I have my fingers crossed I will have some very good news for you in my next post, but I don't want to speak too soon, after so many plans falling through.

The pets have settled in straight away. They have obviously been taken good care of in the boarding kennels, although understandably the dogs were all a bit hyper after the two flights to get to Christchurch. Our caravan park is within walking distance to a large reserve beside a lake, where dogs are allowed off the lead, so we go up there every morning to let the dogs run. On a clear day, it also has a stunning view of the snow-covered mountains. So appreciate these photos I took of the pack enjoying a run there last week.

I got invited to run "not-for-competition" at a local trial last Saturday, while I'm still waiting for our DogsNZ registration papers to arrive. It was so much fun to be back at a trial and Skuggi was so excited as well! There are quite a few differences to Australian trials, most notably how everyone was free to reward their dog with toys or food at the finish line. Back in Australia, the rules are so strict about not playing with them in the ring that if you engage in tug too enthusiastically with your dog's lead at the end before leaving the ring, you can get disqualified. It was always a bit stressful because Skuggi loves to tug! I also had a try at "Tunnellers" with Freya, which was a super fun course made totally of (you guessed it) tunnels. Jessica also had a go at Tunnellers with Tess, and Chana ran two regular classes with Lassie. A great time was had by all!

Goodbyes

On June 11, I led Logan into a stock trailer, along with his friend Spartan, and said goodbye to them forever. The following morning I received the news that they arrived safely in their new home, in beautiful Gippsland, where they will live out the rest of their days along with Goldie, who had been taken there the day before. 

Pixie and her friends were also delivered to their new home this week, where they are being very much loved by a small family. The new owners have been sending us photos and our rats look very happy, so that's nice.

Sneaky Pixie, probably thinking of sneaky Pixie things.

*****

So with all that heartbreak behind us and only 19 days until our flight, I guess it's time to start looking forward. The remaining pets (our five dogs, and the cat Harley) are being picked up on July 8 to go into kennels for 14 days, while we are in the isolation hotel in Auckland. When our isolation ends, they will be flown over to NZ to join us. What a happy day that will be, being let out of the hotel, free again, and getting to reunite with my dogs!

There's still a lot to organize, lots to pack and sort. Most of my stuff is selling fast though so that's good. I may or may not get another blogpost up before we go. And that's a weird thought, that this could easily be my last post written from Australia.

Going Through Changes

We've been wrestling with this decision since we left How Now Dairy, but hitting one year of homelessness last month was the turning point. So my parents went to the real estate agent last Thursday afternoon, May 21, to list our land for sale. On Friday morning, the agent came out to take photos for the listing, and with her was a man who was looking for a new property for his horses. And he agreed to our price. Within 24 hours, our proposed timeline suddenly shrunk from three months to just six weeks, at which point my family and I will be returning to our homeland, New Zealand. The past twelve months have shown us that we have no future in Australia.

While I'm allowed to bring my dogs, our rats and our cattle will have to be rehomed. It's very upsetting but life hasn't left us with any other options. Our calves will be moving to a new home in northern Victoria. I haven't even looked for a new home for our rats yet.

There is so much to be done. Besides sorting our stuff and packing. Flights, hotels, a job and a place to live on the other side. I expect NZ's enforced quarantine will still be in place by the time we go, so we'll have to spend two weeks in a hotel under strict supervision by authorities. The worst part of that will be not having my dogs with me. And New Zealand law does not allow "owner training" of assistance dogs, so Skuggi won't be an assistance dog anymore. My whole lifestyle is going to change.

I have mixed feelings about this. Excitement about a new adventure, some relief that our sucky situation is going to change, but also a lot of anxiety and sadness. New Zealand is a beautiful country, but I never wanted to return there to live. Visit, sure, but my whole life was in Australia. This is my home - I suppose now I should say "was my home." Its people have let us down too many times and we can't survive here. But saying goodbye to my friends, my playful steer Logan, my mischievous rat Pixie, and everything I worked so hard for during 13 years in this country will be hard. I hope it's worth it in the end.

My next post should be more upbeat. It is nice to finally have something to aim for, and an end date for this unpleasant chapter of my life.

(Sorry for the lack of photos in this post. Blogger is having some issues today, apparently.)

One Year

Heads up. This is a rant post. A whinge post. I'm not in a good headspace and this post reflects that. So if you don't want to read my complaints about my life, you should stop reading now.

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A year ago today, we drove out the front gate of How Now Dairy for the last time, exhausted and anxious with no idea what would happen next. I certainly didn't think I would ever be writing this post.

But today marks one year of homelessness. One year of begging for help and hoping this nightmare would end. One year of applying for jobs and being ignored or turned down. One year of being repeatedly betrayed and abandoned by people I thought cared about us. 

My dogs and I spent the first ten nights sleeping on a mattress in the back of my car.

The first version of our camp.

Our cattle eating well, although Goldie was still a little thin after calving.

The first couple of months out here weren't too bad. In fact, within a short amount of time, we had managed to score another job and a house. But the day before we were going to move in, things started to fall apart. And then we lost it all. The house and the job and the friend who had helped organize it, and Goldie's calf as well.

Camp version 2 in June, now with two canvas tents. There were a lot of foggy days during this time.

After that, morale took a big hit. We only had enough savings for approximately two months, and once that time was up, the money ran out. We went into the winter living in tents. Some people started to act like this whole thing was our own fault. Some unkind things were said and we realized those people did not have our best interests at heart. With us living like this, we had nothing left to give and it brought out people's true colours. Trust is a hardwon thing but easily damaged, apparently, and we lost more people than I expected as the support dropped away and we were condemned for our "poor choices." But anyway, we kept living, through the frosty nights and squally rains. And then we came into spring, still in the tents.

Out on the bush tracks with Tess and Skuggi, October 2019.

Early days in the bus, with the bunks not quite fully installed.

Eventually, we got a nice bit of extra money from the government and brought an ex-school bus to live in. But summer was even tougher than the winter. No airconditioning through multiple days of 40*C+. I remember one horrible night in particular where it was still 35 degrees at midnight, with gusty winds that were scorching hot and carrying a heavy blanket of smoke into our camp. We were quite worried about bushfires but in a minor miracle, our property remained safe. And summer ended, and what a relief it has been to experience the cool of autumn and the first decent rainfalls of 2020.

A smoky day on the property, January 2020.

But winter is on its way back again now and we're still here, and it feels like it won't end. I ask myself, what did we do to deserve this? Why are we still homeless and jobless after a whole year of applying for multiple jobs every week? The only answer I can come up with is that people suck. They don't care about others. While we have had some help from some people and I am so grateful to them, at this point I truly believe that the majority of the population is selfish. 

When we first ended up here, someone told me not to be bitter. But I am bitter. I'm angry. The unfairness of the situation eats at me. The endless stress of not knowing if we'll be able to afford food next week or fuel to run our generator for power is exhausting.

I don't know what will happen next, because I don't have any options. I don't have any choices. (Grammarly asks, don't you mean you don't have "many" choices? No, I really do mean that I don't have any.) I feel like my life is just kind of happening, time going by without me. It's forcing me where I don't want to go and whatever happens next is completely out of my control. I want to believe I have a future, and a good life ahead of me, but the past twelve months have destroyed all my dreams and now I can't do any of the things I'd planned to.

We gave everything we had at How Now Dairy and what did we get in return? Nothing.

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I've written this blog post over several weeks. Taking parts out, adding things in, trying to accurately convey what it's like to live like this. And I wanted so badly to be able to end this post with some good news, some hope, but I have none.

The best dogs, my whole reason for getting up every morning.

Distancing

The world has changed a lot in the past two weeks. We've gone from the laughable toilet paper panic and frenzied hoarding, into an apocalyptic-feeling reality where most of the shops are closed and you aren't even allowed to have a barbeque with your extended family.

We didn't get to go to the agility trial on the weekend. On Monday, the 16th, all competitions were canceled until the end of April. Now the two trials in May have also been canceled, and the agility nationals have been postponed to a currently unspecified date. At this rate, we'll be lucky to have any competitions at all this year.

People remain divided between the panicked, the complacent, and the cautious. It's hard to know where on the scale to be. Am I reacting appropriately? Am I taking this seriously enough? Or am I worrying too much? It's a constant internal debate. And going shopping is more stressful than ever as I have to keep in mind the social distancing rules. Did I walk too close to that person? Am I standing too far away while they're talking to me? Thankfully most shops have Xs taped onto the floor and lines to show you where to stand in the queue, where to walk, so I don't have to guess all the time. I try to remember to smile and say thank you to people but honestly, I just want to get my groceries and get back home because it's exhausting. And finding cheap enough groceries continues to be a struggle because everyone is still buying them excessively, leaving us with the more expensive options.

Skuggi "blocking" at the supermarket yesterday, a task I always used to encourage people to give me extra space and now it's more useful than ever.

But so far our lifestyle hasn't suffered a drastic change with all these new restrictions, unlike many others. We've already been out of work for nearly eleven months now. And we haven't been able to afford to go anywhere aside from shopping for most of that time either. The only thing I really miss is the agility trials. I had high hopes for Skuggi's agility this year but as always life finds some way of ruining plans.

Sprinting to the finish line at our last agility trial, November 2019.

But otherwise, life just continues. I'm still sewing dog gear, mainly for my own dogs now since markets are canceled and I have no custom orders. We're working on agility things so hopefully by the time trials start again we will be able to superspeed out of Novice. We own 20 acres and our property is bordered by bushland, dirt roads winding through the trees, which is lovely for walking the dogs. As for Skuggi's assistance dog training, with social interactions basically forbidden, doing his public access test won't be happening for quite some time. The trainer I was going to do it with isn't able to get back to Australia this month as planned. He lives in the UK now and as you know, all international travel is banned. His license to certify assistance dogs expires in July and he said he won't be renewing it. So that's the end of that. When this is all over I guess I'll have to find another trainer who can certify him. Until then we carry on as normal as possible. 

Sparkie and Freya enjoying a bush walk earlier this week.

We picked up some wood and some wire netting to build a chook shed yesterday. I don't know when we'll be able to afford the actual chickens, but the materials were all free and it will be a fun project. And our little garden is growing well despite the kangaroos getting into the lettuces a few weeks ago. As well as the now rejuvenated lettuces, we have peas, strawberries, watermelon, radishes and an assortment of other sprouting herbs/vegetables.

Our garden.

Getting By

In my lifetime, there have been several outbreaks of "deadly diseases." But they always felt so distant. Australia was always safe enough from these things and nobody really worried about it over here. We have good healthcare available and a decent system for dealing with these things.

But a few weeks ago COVID-19 really started to affect Australia. In our local town, the feeling of panic amongst the community was intense. Everyone was in a hurry. People were stockpiling groceries like the world is going to end. A woman came into Mitre 10 in a rush as I was buying some clips for dog leads, looking around in a harried manner. When asked by a staff member if she needed help, she asked if they sold toilet paper. We have three big supermarkets in our town and apparently, they've all sold out. She was told that while Mitre 10 did have toilet paper usually, they'd also sold out earlier in the day. She walked out of the store with an increasing air of panic.

"We probably won't be able to contain this virus," said our health officials last month, "Everyone is at risk." They also told us not to panic but those words came too late and were easily overshadowed by the dire warning that came before. People are afraid and the media is loving it. "Deadly." "Death toll climbing." The whole country panicked. People ran to the shops and brought everything in bulk, leaving very little for the rest of us.

Fast forward to this week. COVID-19 has been declared a pandemic, bringing a fresh wave of fear to the country when it seemed like things were starting to calm down. Now, the Australian government is limiting how many people can meet up at a time. Events are being canceled. The recommendation to have two weeks of supplies on hand is impossible for us to follow. Without an income (besides the tiny amount we get from the government a fortnight), we are severely limited in how much we can buy at a time. And what's left on the shelves now is the more expensive products, which makes it even harder.

We're being careful, of course, but I'm not scared of getting sick. I'm scared that we won't have enough food to get through if this situation gets worse or if we did get sick. It's a tough time to be broke.

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In other news.

Our calves were going to be transported at the end of last month, but then the guy who was going to move them changed his mind because some of them have horns. He was worried about his truck getting damaged, which is fair enough but still annoying. Someone paid in advance for a month's worth of feed for the calves so we didn't have to worry about that, although we're halfway through that feed now and there's still no sign of our situation improving.

Someone gave us enough money to get a new generator, so I am able to keep sewing dog gear. We went to the local markets last weekend and sat there for five hours, and I sold absolutely nothing. A disappointing day.

 Skuggi hurt his foot so we weren't able to go to the agility trial at the beginning of the month. He's healed now though so we're planning to go to one next Saturday. Although at this point, I'm not sure if the trial will still go ahead.

We keep applying for jobs, but potential employers continue to muck us around (if they even respond to us at all) and then give the job to someone else. Nobody seems to understand how desperate we are. I'm so fed up with it.

So I think that's everything I needed to update you on. Life has taken on a bit of surreal feeling in the past few days. We live in very interesting times.