A Dog's Eye: Letterbox Bomb

I need to confess, right off the bat, that I only used the word 'bomb' to grab your attention. Although I do have experience with letterbox bombs during my wayward and rebellious teenage years, I actually want to share with you some reflections arising from letterbox drops. I'm not sure if that's the official name for what I was doing for four hours this morning, but that's what we'll go with.

If you've spent time walking around delivery advertising materials to people's letterboxes, or, as in my case today, addressed mail from the local member of parliament, or if you've worked as a postie, then the following observations will certainly ring a bell. If not, then perhaps it will give you some insight into the trickiness of what would appear to be a very straightforward task.

Here are the three major problems which arise during a letterbox drop.

1. Corner blocks. If I told you that three adjacent houses on one street could be numbered 14, 65 & 9 you might be surprised unless you live in a house so numbered. When I arrived at a house on a corner, I had to figure out which street it belonged to. The letters in my hand were all personally addressed and in order, so the confusion caused by houses on corners resulted in quite a bit of extra investigative walking and backtracking. Adding to my befuddlement this morning was my uncertainty about which street I was in and where that street started and ended. You know any street called a Circuit is going to present some challenges. I was literally going aorund in circles.

1. Letterboxes. A few houses had no letterbox at all which sent a very clear message. Many letterboxes contained the warning not to insert advertising material which is something I always respect. Today's letter box drop was important information, not advertising. Most letterboxes were welcoming, at least superficially. I consider the ultimate invitation to be an appropriately sized open slot. However, such accommodation is not so common, especially with modern homes. Most of the houses I delivered to were built relatively recently and the letterboxes, like the homes behind them, are quite stylish. Good looking they may be, but user friendly they are not: the majority were not easy to access. The main problem was the covered slot which unless you have a thick letter or a wad of letters can't be pushed open by paper. You need to use two hands, and as my left hand was full of folded letters, this proved quite awkward. Many other boxes had a flap which needed to be lifted to reveal the slot which was also tricky. Letterboxes hidden behind frontyard shrubbery or positioned at ground level also negatively impacted efficient delivery. Despite these difficulties, I can happily report only spilling my lollies once.

1. Dogs. The burbs should be and generally are very quiet and peaceful. With only local traffic and most people either out or settled comfortably within the air conditioned walls of their modern homes, the hot air is silent apart from bird song and the occasional waft of music or conversation. It's quiet, that is, until you walk past and the dog goes off. Darwin has the highest per capita dog ownership of any Australian city or town. The dogs in Darwin are all contained behind fences. I'm not frightened of dogs and felt no threat from even the larger and more vicious looking beasts. They couldn't have got me even if they wanted to, so I felt safe. There was one exception: a scary little Daschund escaped its domestic confines, yapped growled at me, chasing me down the street for a few metres until it was satisfied I wasn't going to invade it's property. Most of the dogs will do that. They'll just bark at you until you have passed their territory. The problem is one dog barking sets off all of the other dogs, and not all of these vociferous canines know how to control themselves.

Despite these challenges, the irritating noise of barking dogs, and the heat, I enjoyed my work/walk. I said G'day to a few people, chatted with one lady about the crazy numbering, admired the well manicured gardens, appreciated the sleek architecture of the houses and I prayed for the names on the letters, for the people who live in those homes. I prayed for them, although I don't know them and will probably never meet them. I thanked God for the work and for the exercise.

Snake Oil: education solves all problems

I wonder if anyone believes that education solves all problems. Education solves problems, education provides opportunities, education is a worthy and useful pursuit, but it is not a panacea. C.S.Lewis said it best.

What values underpin the rationale behind and the aim of public service announcement ads? I suggest a shared community value of respecting other people's three Ps: person, property and peace. These types of ads are clearly designed to educate people, unlike most ads which are designed to persuade people to spend money on things. Advertising is all about influencing people. Public service ads attempt to change people's behaviour. The problem is that the people most likely to pay attention to these ads are those who agree with the message of the ad, and are already doing so.

The ad I'm particularly interested in at the moment is a message from Darwin City Council about responsible pet ownership. What are the chances that irresponsible pet owners are going to see this ad, repent and turn over a new leaf? For starters they probably can't even hear the ad because their dog is barking and they're vainly yelling at it to stop. When people buy pets, they generally know what they are in for: some degree of trouble. When they buy puppies, they've got a good idea of exactly what sort of trouble they're in for, and what they can do to prevent it.

Nuisance behaviour is preventable. That's the main message of the  ad. The slogan says "Good pets start with you." Does anybody not know that? Does anybody not know that if you don't train your pup, it will become a pain in the neck? If I owned a dog, I would at least attempt to train it. I don't want to deliberately make my life more difficult, but that's exactly what people do. With dogs, I'm sure people have the best of intentions, but life gets in the way. Or maybe it's sheer laziness. Perhaps it's delusion.

I have been a victim of nuisance behaviour by animals many times in my capacity as house sitter. I am the victim of nuisance behaviour right now by Whiny McBarkenstein. I'm helpless to change this behaviour. I can only deal with it as best I can. At most I spend three or four weeks in some one else's home looking after their pets. Often it's less than a week. Powerless I sit, watching these ads about dogs acting badly, and shaking my head.

The one shining light in all this-there are several actually; the truth is that getting into house sitting which I've been doing full time since April 2018, has saved my financial bacon. But the other thing house sitting has done is fire up my writing. This blog post is a brief sample of my WIP which is called I Used to be an Animal Lover. As my wife said when I was complaining about not being able to sleep because of the dogs and a rooster, at least I have a lot of ammunition for my book.

I've already completed 34,861 words of the first draft in just twenty days and I'm loving writing more than I have for quite a while. In the process,as is always the case, I'm learning lots of fascinating things related to animals, and as the book is part memoir, I'm also doing what all writers do; dealing with demons in my head.

Finally, back on the ads. I think they reinforce good behaviour in those who are already behaving properly, according to a shared community value. (respecting person, property and peace).The ads do not change the behaviour of people who don't. I'm not sure many people are even capable of acquiring new values.

Celebrate the Small Things: A Drive in the Country

Ninety nine percent recovered from the man flu, I write light of spirit and relatively clear of head, on this first Friday in winter.

Aside from feeling miserable and sick, the man flu kept me away from my dad, which was a huge emotional bummer. He is receiving chemotherapy treatment for lung cancer. Every other Friday I spend the whole day with him helping him do his delivery job. I do the driving and lifting. As I was unwell, and he has virtually no immune system, I could not risk his health by spending the day in a truck with him. Neither could I even risk spending the afternoon on the couch with him watching the footy, which is something else we regularly do together. I missed him, and at a time when I fear the chemotherapy is not helping, and I may soon lose one of my best friends.

Today, we were reunited: visiting homes and farms, from Bowral in the southern highlands, down to Yass, delivering fresh meat for people's pet dogs. The job is mundane, mostly, but we talked a lot about sport, politics, work and matters of the heart, and I am very grateful for the time with my dad. He needs my help and I am happy to do it. That's what I'm thankful for today.