Good At Surviving

Deleted the first half of this post that talked about the past and how crappy life has treated me, and all the things I loved and lost in 2020. 

Because I want to end this year with some good thoughts. 

Skuggi gained two clear rounds this year, in the two championship agility trials we got to, which doubled the number of clear round certificates he had from 2018 and 2019. Combined. So perhaps 2021 will be the year we finally get to move into the next class. It does feel like we're getting it together more often now. Our next competition is the last weekend of January and I can't wait to be back out in the ring.

We brought six chooks in mid-November, ex-egg farm hens, saved from certain death because apparently, the farmer kills his chooks after one season, replacing them with the next generation of chooks. But anyway, our chooks are doing well. We're getting 4 or 5 eggs a day, which is pretty good. The fact they aren't all laying consistently is the reason why they were going to be culled. That, and the way some of their eggs weren't quite perfect, because a lot of their calcium is going into feather growing because they were finishing up a spring molt. They are getting better though. And they are very friendly. We let them out in the morning to free-range for the day and then put them away at night around 8pm. Which is still broad daylight, by the way, but they're ready to go to bed and run eagerly back into the coop when we go up there. We're getting more than 15 hours of daylight at the moment. But, my dad has to be up at 3am, or near enough, for work most mornings, so there's no time to appreciate the longer days. It's more of an annoyance than anything, trying to go to sleep when it's still so bright outside.

The weather has been far cooler lately than what we're used to. It reaches 25 and the locals start complaining about how hot it is. But having experienced weeks of 35+ back in Australia, this has been a lovely cool summer so far. This time last year it was regularly reaching more than 40 degrees. And we were living in a bus in the middle of nowhere, jobless, homeless, flat broke and majorly depressed. I'm still depressed, but a little less often than before. I'm not homeless. And I'm not quite jobless anymore either or broke, because I'm mowing lawns for the landlady and I still have money left over from selling so much of my life back in Australia. I still really miss working with cows though. Getting back into dairying has proven to be far more difficult than I'd hoped, and I don't have any experience in any other field so I don't know what else to do. If only a certain person in the past hadn't turned out to be such a scumbag. (If you know, you know. Otherwise, just look through some of my older posts.)

I keep tentatively making plans for 2021. More agility. Road trips. Finally getting off my learner driving license. But perhaps I'll achieve nothing but just surviving to the end of another year. And that would have to be good enough.

Anyway, here's a video recap of the year. 

Click here if it's not showing below.

Where We Came From

So much has happened in the short space of time between selling our land and now. And suddenly we're back in New Zealand and it somehow feels both like not-quite-coming-home and completely foreign. I think too much about what I've lost.

But small things like turning on the tap and having instant hot water. Hot showers. Heating. Constant electricity. Mountain views. A flushing toilet. Carpet on the floor. I have been taking these things for granted again and forgetting where we came from.

No more late nights around the campfire, eking out the last bit of warmth from the smoldering embers before rushing through the nightly chores, hoping to get it all done and then into bed before you lose feeling in your fingers and toes. Hearing the wind roar in the trees and then moments later, the tent threatening to collapse under the strength of it. Rain coming down sideways, the wind pushing it through the tent seams. And after that, heat and dust and smoke and never being fully clean. Midnight and still 35*C, all the windows closed tight to keep out the smoke and the fans only blowing scorching air around. The niggling fear in the back of your mind because you know how fast fire moves and you would have to leave things behind. We prepared as much as we could but it would never have been enough. 

It sounds traumatic when I type it out, but it wasn't. The hardest part was the end of it. (And there I go again, back into those dark thoughts because I have lost so much and I can never get it back.)

We got a cozy house. My dad has a farm job. Things are... I won't say good. But, they aren't terrible. I should be grateful I still have some happiness left. Of better times, happy memories that I shouldn't allow to become tainted with grief. We had a good run back there. And now in the present day, Sparkie bouncing gleefully through the snow. She's never seen snow before and she loves it. I am surprised. And hares and lambs and beautiful birdsong, and we've landed in the one place in New Zealand that has a wallaby problem so it's a taste of the old days, although we have only seen one on the property so far.

We've been in this house for two weeks now. Unpacking my box and suitcase is a slow process. I have a handful of things out now - my dogs' trick title certificates, a drawing of Sparkie from a friend, my little Wolverine figurine. I don't know when I'll feel settled, when I'll feel safe. How many times now have I allowed myself to feel that way only to have it all taken off me again?

Writing continues to be an outlet, both here and in my fanfictions, a way to process my feelings and sort my thoughts into a coherent order. I'll never stop being open about my struggles. And I shouldn't feel like I have to. Depression is a real thing and a nasty thing, and something people shouldn't be ashamed of. Although, for the sake of my few loyal blog readers, I should make some attempt not to go too dark in my posts. (eg, my last post. oops)

Sad Reflections

Warning for dramatic emotional post ahead. I apologize in advance.

I never know what to write anymore. Case in point that for quite some time, I completely blanked on what to type after that sentence. Apparently, all I'm able to write now are complaints and sad reflections of better days. I won't blame you if you choose not to read my blog anymore.

When I started this blog, we were still travelling and performing at shows with the dogs. Adventures were plentiful, from vehicle breakdowns to encounters with drunks to the new things we trained the dogs. A new view every morning. I loved what I did and I put that into this blog. And even after that part of my life ended, and I traded in the performer life for a "real job," there was still plenty to blog about. Dairy farming provided plenty of inspiration to write, with stories of the silly things cattle get up to and the drama of bad weather. The satisfaction of saving a calf's life, because I knew what I was doing and I was good at it, was one of the best feelings of all.

But then I lost everything. The days became monotonous. I was angry, but more than that I was tired. I still looked at their Instagram account, because I missed my old life, and I hated how happy they seemed. While I was out there homeless and broke because of them, they had everything that I wanted so badly. "Don't be bitter," people said. But I am bitter, and I am angry, and I probably will be for a long time because they destroyed my life. They offered me everything that they knew I wanted and then they took it away. And it had no consequence for them. They knew when they did it that we couldn't fight it, that they were untouchable. They were too clever.  And so instead they got everything, and I have nothing. How do I move on from something like that? How do I let that go?

Because their betrayal started the chain reaction that led to us returning to New Zealand. I thought I'd lost everything when we left the farm, but of course, I still had more to lose. And life is determined to take it all. 

I never really talked about how hard it was to give up Logan. I tried not to think too much at the time. There were plenty of other things going on to distract me. Always keep moving. But now that life is quiet and boring again, I think of him almost every day and it still hurts. I worked so hard to get him trained to the level he was. He was going to be mine forever and I had so many big dreams for our future.

Being without an assistance dog is hard. I spent seven years with a dog at my side wherever I went. First with Sparkie, and then with Skuggi. They gave me freedom beyond what I'd thought possible. But now I almost wish I'd never trained Sparkie to be one all those years ago, because then I'd never know what real independence felt like, or the confidence I'm capable of feeling.

I miss my Australian friends. People are nice here, and I have a few kiwi Facebook "friends," but it's not the same. I don't really know anyone in this country. I miss my friends who've had my back for years, who I only got to see a few times because they lived so far away but we still talk regularly, the ones who I feel I can tell almost anything to and they will understand.

I know it will take time to build a life here, but it's like starting back at the beginning. I don't know if I have the strength to build it all again. I wasted so many years of my life putting things together, designing my happy ending only to have it all ripped away by one person's selfish act. He did this to me and I can't even talk about it openly because legally he did nothing wrong. And that is the worst part of all this - that he gets away with what he's done. Because apparently being a bad person has no consequences in this life and it gets you everything you want, but if you're a good one? Prepare to lose everything you love.

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.)