Louise the Fisher Dog

I spent the last two hours of the afternoon figuring out the new water pump. Half of the farm is cut in half by the Newcastle water supply pipeline. There are no dams on the far side. There are two on the house side, where the horse shed and all the good paddocks are.

But our hungry weaners have eaten the grass in the large paddock so quickly we had to get them over the other side. So we need water there.

A 1kW pump and some ag line into two bathtubs. We had one, but an observant neighbour offered us another when he saw us carrying it.

The pump took some adjusting. Like the inlet and outlets werent marked and two hours yesterday was wasted trying to pump water in the wrong direction. Anyway. It was a joy to see it finally flowing onto the baths.

I wandered back up to the dam where the pump was buzzing at 7500rpm. Shut it off to blessed silence. To notice Louise, our nine year old black Poodle miniature, staring intently into the dam. Not just staring but wet up to her knees ready to pounce. I packed up the pump and stood looking admiringly at the fence we had built, back down over the dam where Louise remained poised for the last half an hour. “Louie! C'mon!” Usually craving attention her name would send her a-leaping. Not tonight. Staring into the water, reflecting the sunset, she looked about as content as any poodle in touch with their hunting instincts could be.