Funny dog stories from around Australia

Anyone who has ever owned a dog will attest to the fact that they’re not just a pet, but a member of the family. While the saying that a ‘dog is a man’s best friend’ is true, most will find that it’s a major understatement. Even the hardest of working dogs who spend their days rounding up cattle and chasing away snakes can form an incredible bond with their owners.

Even dogs with the worst habits – like digging holes, or climbing trees – are forgiven time and again, and their unique personalities are forever imprinted on the hearts of their owners.

These are things that definitely ring true for the following Country Style readers who shared funny stories of their beloved companions, from tree-climbing kelpies to time-travelling cattle dogs.

Meet Rupert Archibald Kernke, better known to the Kernke family as ‘The Laird of Shene’. Looking more like a soft toy than a dog, this pint-sized pooch has outsized ears and an attitude to match. Even as a pup this little West Highland cross exuded the sort of confidence that demanded serious consideration when it came to naming him.

“We thought he had a little bit of a swagger and that old-fashioned names like Rupert Archibald were definitely well-suited,” says owner Myfanwy Kernke.

According to Myfanwy, Rupert Archibald’s character wavers between “fiercely loyal and incredibly disobedient. He is very clever and he is a piglet. We have a lot of tradesmen and stonemasons working here at Shene Estate and everybody knows they can’t leave the windows of their vehicles down because he has stolen so many lunches. You just see him running through the paddock with a brown paper packet in his mouth.”

Missy started life as a working dog. Mickey bulls were her specialty, along with any kind of snake. A series of work accidents found her staying with me during her recovery. When she was better, my son Clinton would collect her and back she would go… until the next time.

I pointed out that it was only a matter of time before she might be killed, while with me she would be loved and live to a ripe old age. This muscle-bound, rough and tough working dog then became a house pet.

On trips to town she became a familiar sight outside the church during choir practice. There she would lie, never revealing what she really thought of our singing. For years, she accompanied me to Little Theatre rehearsals, watching and listening to loud voices and crazy laughter.

My darling friend now lies beneath a beautiful ghost gum at Havilah Station, her home for 13 years. I will never forget the privilege of having Missy in my life.

In 1980, our family — I, my husband Brian and our daughters, Sally and Rebecca — moved from the big smoke, Sydney, to 40 hectares at Lochinvar, in NSW’s Hunter Valley. And, of course, we had to have a dog — a cute, long-haired kelpie pup named Bill.

When Bill was 18 months old, we started renovations on our home. He now had extra company from the builders when the workmen sat under a very old jacaranda. A small frilled-neck lizard frequented that tree and the builders used to encourage Bill to jump up in pursuit.

Bill never did catch that lizard, but he found that with one bound he could make it comfortably to the fork of the tree, which provided a seat for him to view the countryside and catch any cool breezes. From that time, if we uttered the words “Up the tree, Bill!”, that’s what he did.

It became quite a party trick for Bill and entertainment for visitors to see this fox-like dog smiling down from his perch.

On the farm where I live we have what we call The Tip, which contains rolls of old wire, railway sleepers and old vehicles.

In the next paddock, many years ago, we had a dozen bulls. One day, while driving past, my father Neville spotted a dog lying next to one of the bulls. On closer inspection he found a female blue heeler, but couldn’t get close — she was “feral”, he said.

We started leaving food and water for her, which she would ravenously devour when we left.

Sometime later, going past the tip, we heard whimpers coming from under some railway sleepers and found Grace and 11 puppies. My father and brother got Grace out, and we collected the roly poly puppies. They tied Grace up under a tree near the house and I can remember Dad telling me: “Don’t go near her, she’ll take your arm off.”

Being the obedient daughter that I was, I promptly went down with a peace offering of a bowl of water. Grace came straight up to me and licked my hand and from then on she was my true and loyal friend. I was a single mum with a small daughter and Grace was fiercely protective of us.