General News
17 January, 2025
CHIPPY: Her earliest days — Part Two
Chippy got through the early years of his life with his family's help, but his later years weren't any easier.
Chippy started to bark, it was Grandad’s compatriot from a neighbouring farm — Alfonso (his letters enticed Grandad to Australia).
We all assembled in the lounge and Grandad turned the wireless knobs and we sat enthralled listening to “Dad & Dave”, “Tarzan”, and the news.
Before Alfonso left an exchange of local happenings was discussed.
Alfonso, like my grandad, still rode their bicycles on short trips.
Grandma had the house protected by her garlic wreaths to stop the devil in his tracks.
The priests who visited the small villages in Italy used fear of the devil as a strong incentive to keep the word of God.
As I said, Chippy took responsibility to care for any visitors to the farm and this nearly turned out to be tragic.
While Grandad and I were moving some sheep to the back paddock over three miles away, my aunt and her son visited and she left him with my Nan while she went into Nagambie.
Nan told my cousin not to go to the swamp as several tiger snakes had been seen there.
The first thing he did was to ignore what he was told and venture off to the swamp.
Chippy, as was her practice, followed him to provide protection.
Almost immediately he entered the path to the swamp he encountered a snake.
Instead of backtracking to the farm he started to throw sticks at the snake.
Chippy seeing the danger got between the boy and the snake. Unfortunately one of the larger sticks struck the dog.
The snake pounced biting Chippy on the paw. She ran off in pain and the boy returned to the farm saying nothing.
Later his mother returned and took him off to Shepparton when I returned with Grandad and wondered why Chippy hadn’t met us as usual.
A quick search revealed that she was missing. A ring to the neighbouring farm, and to my aunt to find out what had happened. Eventually the truth came out.
After a long search Chippy was found shivering under the floor of the shearing shed. Grandma immediately bled the paw below the bite.
She was wrapped tightly in cotton sheets and put in a box next to the stoked up fire. She was barely conscious.
A large bowl of water was placed next to her and we prayed she might survive.
The next morning some of the water was gone and she opened her eyes briefly.
In the afternoon she was struggling to get out of her box.
After a few tentative steps she staggered to the door. Once outside in the fresh air she brightened up.
By the next morning she ate and drank and was on the way to recovery. Grandma said a bite anywhere but the paw would have been fatal.
Grandad and Chippy had an indifferent relationship but this was amended when she came to his rescue.
Listening to the evening news, an announcement was made that a violent convict had escaped and was seen in the Arcadia area (where the farm was).
On the night there was a full moon and he was alone in the house as Nan was staying in Shepparton overnight.
Awoken by a noise he saw the figure of a man at the window, he was petrified.
Suddenly there was a ferocious growl followed by several other fearsome yells.
Chippy had come to the rescue pursuing the convict away.
The next day the police captured the intruder less than a mile from the farm.
His torn trouser leg and bite marks were evidence of Chippy’s ferocity.
He told his captors that he had been attacked by a savage monster!
My aunt and uncle, Hazel and Peter, often visited the farm to fish in the Goulburn River.
They were childless and were my god parents.
Peter was a terrible teaser and would fill my mind with fearsome tales.
He told a tale of monsters that lived in the swamp and were in search of innocent victims whose bodies they would invade leaving the unsuspecting soul with a life in the swamp.
My bedroom was at the back of the house with a window facing out the back and the swamp in the distance.
The swamp at night was a noisy place with a myriad of bird and insect noises accompanied by a low moaning wind.
One sound stood out above all else — it was a low moaning sound, such as “ooooweee”! This was Uncle Peter’s fearsome creature.
On a night of a full moon, the light shining through the branches of a tree outside, the window created terrifying images.
In panic the kapok mattress swallowed me up and I could not escape.
In my attempt to escape I knocked the matches on the floor (out of reach) and was unable to light the candle.
Resigned to my fate I pulled up the blankets and prayed the “Hail Mary” repeatedly until eventually I fell asleep.
I woke with the morning light shining in my face and after a considerable struggle I escaped from the kapok “quicksand” and dressed for another day.
After telling Nan of my experience she, accompanied by Chippy, took me to the swamp. She identified the source of the fearsome moan.
It was a small long-legged bird called a curlew (hardly a monster).
A few barks from Chippy and they skimmed off to the far reaches of the swamp.
No creature, no matter how fearsome, was capable of putting fear into Chippy.
After that I slept soundly knowing that Chippy would protect me.
Early in the spring the Goulburn Valley experienced record rainfall — great for the crops.
As a result of this heavy inundation the waters of the Goulburn River at Arcadia had flooded the countryside. The swamp and dam overflowed and formed an ocean.
A young couple unaware of the danger became stranded in the ever-rising waters.
Despite being a distance from the farm Chippy heard their calls for help.
Barking loudly she set about rousing my uncle and he was soon alerted to the couple’s dilemma.
Johnny pulling the gig made his way through the slush. Eventually the disconsolate couple were at the farmhouse drying themselves by the fire.
Some fresh toast cooked on the fire with a bowl of vegetable soup sufficed while their clothes dried. Chippy, the modest heroine, sat on her bed chewing on a bone.
Another near fatal event was to nearly end her life.
A mongrel “feral” dog of considerable size overpowered a reluctant Chippy and unfortunately got her in pup.
My grandmother realised something was amiss with Chippy when she was sick and she had fattened up.
When she gave birth she was mortally ill. The three surviving pups combined were bigger than her.
The ordeal had made her dehydrated and only for Alfonso’s secret tonic she wouldn’t have survived.
On Grandad’s next visit to Shepparton she was spayed.
Ironically the three pups found good homes and one of them was used by the police as a tracking dog and figured in several rescues.
For a dog on a small farm she figured in untold adventures as a result of her taking the responsibility of watching over any visitors.
Upon my Nan’s passing she was distraught. She searched the homestead and surrounds methodically trying to find some trace of her beloved mistress.
It was only when my cousin, Barry, took her to the gravesite that she relaxed.
She lived out her remaining years in the care of Barry in Shepparton.
Of course, this is a familiar tale lived out by a multitude of families.