Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Monday, January 29, 2007

A Dream Introduction


A Dream Introduction
(By Jane Teresa Anderson, Dream analyst)

You are about to enter the world of Bitssy, a half-dingo pet dog, living a dream life of tropical delight in her Cairns backyard. She revels in long sunshiny days, playing with her animal friends amidst the colours, fragrances, textures and tastes of her tree-filled, fruit-laden, flower-blossoming heaven.

But all is not as it seems and this story is not all sweetness and light, for there’s a nightmare of a shadow in Bitssy’s life and it’s close to home, right in her front yard, making her too scared to sit on her own front verandah. Caramel, the dog from across the road who likes to sit in Bitssy’s front yard, may have a sweet name and a crafty way of appearing to be good to everyone else, but Caramel is really a manipulating bully.

Will Bitssy spend her life confined to her backyard or will she find the magic formula to rid her life of Caramel’s influence and turn her living nightmare into a living happy dream?

Every problem has a solution, but it can be very hard to see that solution when you are afraid. Fortunately for Bitssy, she meets Marmalade, a very cheeky, funny and courageous tomcat who has learned many wise lessons during eight of his nine lives.

Marmalade’s lessons are not all sweet either. Like all wise beings, he knows you need to face the bowels of life in order to deal with it and find solutions, so watch out for plenty of toilet humour delivered with meaning and love!

Animal stories such as this one are powerful. Do you ever have night dreams of animals? Do you wonder what they mean and how you can learn from them? Bitssy dreams of a wolverine who helps her find a special, deep, long-lost power. What is it? Do you have it deep within you, I wonder? Can you use it?

Here’s an insight: this book is written for middle readers aged 8-12, but no matter what age you are, child, young adult or grandparent, this story has a message for you. Like all good fairy stories, this one has the good, the bad and the ugly as well as the wise solution. Also, like all good fairy stories, this one will seem different each time you read it. Depending on your life experiences, you’ll identify with different parts of this story, and, as you grow older you’ll begin to see lots of clever word-play, puns, metaphors and allegories that will deliver you deeper and deeper wisdom about why abuse happens and what you can do to stop it.

This book was written to help educate people about sexual abuse, but it delivers an equally strong message about emotional abuse. Emotional abuse happens when someone hurts you, not in a physical way, but with words and actions that cut so deeply into your heart that they affect the way you express yourself in the world.

You’ll come out of this book with some powerful solutions for dealing with the shadows in your front yard, whatever those shadows might be.

So, what’s next?

It’s now time for you to forget everything you’ve just read. Yawn, stretch, find a comfy, quiet space and begin at the beginning, for that is how this story was designed and that’s where Bitssy is waiting for you to join her right now.

Jane Teresa Anderson (BSc Hons)
Dream analyst, author, broadcaster and scientist

Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.

To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Bit 1. Tart Marmalade or Sweet Caramel


Bit 1, Tart marmalade or sweet caramel?

"I think I love you, so what am I so afraid of," sang Bitssy to herself while her developing dingo senses sniffed out a sleepy gecko, hiding from the sunlight in the screen door runners.

Bitssy's big person watched with curiosity and humour, seemingly reading Bitssy's mind.

"Hey Bitssy, I think you've been watching too many television commercials, you little dreamer you. It’s time for some outside play for you girl dog. You need a bit of body exercise."

The big person slid the screen open, disturbing the gecko from its safety zone. Gecko and Bitssy both tried for first place in the short sprint to the bromeliads growing outside the back door. Gecko won and Bitssy happily moved on to sniffing out a big green frog to play with. Luckily for the sun sensitive hibernating frog, a magnificent Mountain Blue butterfly fluttered by. Bitssy's concentration refocused to chasing the impossible dream, a dream of a butterdog flying above the fences, roofs and trees in suburban Cairns, checking that all was well with the land and her many friends.

Bitssy loved everyone and was mostly always content. She especially loved playing in her big, open back yard. The colossal trees provided shade and springy little garden animals to amuse her. She was happy, safe, and secure in her back yard, shaded by harmony. She had friends to talk to through the fence, and a number of special sleeping places.

On blistering hot days Bitssy would crawl under the low set old Queenslander that her big person was renting. She would dig a ginormous hole to get right down into the cool, damp soil. Burrowed into the sludge, she imagined it was really a soft, chocolate brown velvet doona on the big soft bed in the air-conditioned bedroom.

Bitssy had such a curious way of thinking. During her resting times, Bitssy would think deeply about all sorts of different things. Perhaps that’s why she dug deep holes under the house: it helped her to think, deeply. There was only one thing that Bitssy was not keen to think about though, and that was the Caramel monster!

As much as Bitssy wanted to frolic and explore in her equally dappled and deliciously tropical looking front yard, she remained scared of what Caramel would do. Caramel was the opposite of a gorgeous, free, butterdog: she was a fat poison toad! Bitssy found it easier to stay hidden inside the front screen door and enjoy the smells and activities from the front garden and street. From afar, the fine-looking children walking past, talking happily to each other, would have Bitssy beside herself with glee and anticipation. She so wanted to run out there and greet the children...but where was Caramel? What would Caramel do? Caramel might hurt the children too!

Bitssy knew she had courage, but when she saw Caramel her nerve would retreat like a gecko from the sunlight. Despite this run-away bravery, it was Bitssy who first bravely organised the neighbourhood dogs into the Dog’s Body Army. Bitssy won a special award for it when she was living in Brisbane. She was only a puppy, straight from her wide-open homeland of isolated Far North Queensland. Everywhere her big person had moved to since, the beautiful private stripe took pride of place in her big person’s antique glass china cabinet. It was a trophy of victory. Her big person proudly showed it off to everyone who came to visit. The guests would scratch Bitssy behind her ears, tickle her spotty tummy, and tell her how fantastically special she was. Best of all, the visitors raved about her unusual name. They loved it.

Bitssy daydreamed of her mother. Her mother specially chose Bitssy’s name straight after the birth behind the bits shed on the outback cattle station on remote Cape York Peninsula. Bitssy looked different to her brothers and sisters in the litter. She was bits of them all put together, plus a few other bits that her mother would rather she didn’t have. Bitssy's mother loved her intensely because she looked so very special. She lovingly licked Bitssy’s face and said,

"You are the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen. You are all bits of this and bits of that. Let's call you Bitssy, to celebrate your specialness. You will go a long way in life my little pup. Far away from here."

The dingoes, hiding in the bush, howled in celebration of Bitssy’s birth. To honour her naming ceremony, they dropped bits of dead animal outside the shed door. Nuzzling Bitssy closer to her, the tired cattle dog mother vowed that she would protect her young against the brutal killing forces that prowled the Australian bush. Those same forces had killed her mate and robbed her new litter of their father.

“You will not have my baby,” she promised. “My baby is going to the city. She is special!”

When Bitssy went to the city to live with her big person, the human could not work out what to call the little bitsa. Her big person decided,

"You're a bit of dingo and a big of cattle dog, a gorgeous strong creature with handsome bits of tapestry woven into a yellow red coat. I know, I'll call you Bitssy!”

So Bitssy stayed as Bitssy, known and loved by all her family and friends, both animals and big people. But she did feel a little alone sometimes, out of place, and as scared as a lost kitten. She was scared that Caramel would attack and kill her if Bitssy went out into her own front yard.

"Ohhhh," thought Bitssy, "maybe I've got a bit of cat in me too - scaredy cat."

Bit 2. Caramel-Brown Toilet Sausages and Poisoned Worm Jelly
Bit 3. Leaping Tasmanian Devil in Sour Lime Sauce
Bit 4. Catmando and Reef Knots.
Bit 5. Bitssy Gets it Good!
Bit 6. Clown Fish Won't Survive in Limejuice.
Bit 7. The Mellow Yellow Prophecy.
Bit 8. Poison Snake Catches a Rat on the Front Verandah
Bit 9. Snot Nice
Bit 10. Hot Toast with Vegemite.
Bit 11. Off Caramel Smells Like Rotting Lime.
Bit 12. A Dog's Body
Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.
Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.
Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.
Eulogy.

To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Friday, January 26, 2007

Bit 2. Caramel-Brown Toilet Sausages and Poisoned Worm Jelly

Bit 2, Caramel-brown toilet sausages and poisoned worm jelly.

Caramel was the large, dirty yellow, pretty looking dog from across the road. She was allowed to roam around Jensen Street because her owners didn’t care much. Caramel liked to rest in the shaded dirt areas under gigantic trees. The dogcatcher had never caught her because the caramel dog was streetwise and never wandered far from home. From her vantage point in Bitssy's front yard she could see the dogcatcher driving up the road. When Caramel saw the smoke blowing van, she meandered, elegantly and controlled, back across the road and onto her own filthy front verandah. No love grew there, just a blowfly nursery for maggots that would keep Caramel company.

The dogcatcher was not allowed by law to enter Caramel’s yard to imprison her. His dream was to sneak up on her in the street, catch her, and reef her into the dog paddy wagon to be carted away. The poor old dogcatcher was very tired of receiving Jensen St calls about Caramel raiding rubbish bins and leaving foul, worm ridden, brown toilet sausages on residents’ front steps. There was nothing he could do unless somebody told him that Caramel was beginning to threaten and savage someone.

When Bitssy's big person came home from work, Bitssy was allowed to play and sleep in the house. Bitssy loved to run to the front screen door to watch and smell the world out front. Far too often, Caramel was asleep on Bitssy's front porch. If Bitssy woke Caramel, the yellow ogre became bad-tempered and roared at Bitssy, telling her she was nothing but a skinny, ugly, stupid, useless, pampered little pussy that would be crushed and ground and sold as Catnip tea.

“But I’m a dog. A proud, sturdy, independent dingo,” sobbed Bitssy to herself, her head hanging, not game to say anything in front of the very pretty monster.

Poor sad confused little Bitssy. Caramel’s wounding words turned her knees to jelly and slashed her insides like a blunt, poison soaked knife being hacked into her guts. Her heart felt tight, heavily chained up with rusty, barbed wire. Her voice, usually happy and confident, was silenced. She felt like the bulls in Spanish bullfights that had their vocal cords cut so that nobody could hear their bellows of pain when the Matadors stabbed blades into their shoulders. The monstrous hurts and putdowns pained so much that Bitssy was just not strong enough to tell Caramel to stop her bullying. Caramel, sensing that Bitssy was worn down and dying inside, delighted in terrorising Bitssy even more, hounding her and saying that if she ever stepped a foot in the front yard, she would be eaten, alive, at least until she died a painful death. As an added threat, if Bitssy chose to not die quickly and quietly, Caramel promised that she would turn on the big person, rip her to pieces and share her soft, white meat, with the rats! Then, like a gentle little flower, Caramel would bat her eyelids, yawn widely, close her eyes and lick her lips. Bitssy got the message, even though the difference between serial killer and pretty little flower didn’t make any sense. How could such a sweet little thing, as Caramel often pretended to be, also be a mass murderer? Surely killers had a certain bad, black look? Not fully understanding but still knowing that Caramel was very bad, Bitssy preferred to play it safe and stay away, off the front verandah.

Bit 3. Leaping Tasmanian Devil in Sour Lime Sauce
Bit 4. Catmando and Reef Knots.
Bit 5. Bitssy Gets it Good!
Bit 6. Clown Fish Won't Survive in Limejuice.
Bit 7. The Mellow Yellow Prophecy.
Bit 8. Poison Snake Catches a Rat on the Front Verandah
Bit 9. Snot Nice
Bit 10. Hot Toast with Vegemite.
Bit 11. Off Caramel Smells Like Rotting Lime.
Bit 12. A Dog's Body
Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.
Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.
Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.
Eulogy.
To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Bit 3. Leaping Tasmanian Devil in Sour Lime Sauce


Bit 3, Leaping Tasmanian devil in sour lime sauce.


On this particular storm brewing, gecko chasing, frog hiding, flutterbyings buttering Bitssy up, backyard Sunday afternoon, Bitssy caught a glimpse of a marmalade cat. The orange feline was creeping secretly like a Tasmanian devil through the chunky flame coloured Heliconias growing along the side fence.

Bitssy was rather excited, her tail circling faster than the inside ceiling fan on high. Her tongue was dripping with the expectancy of making a new friend. Cheerfully, she watched the disguised Tasmanian devil for a minute until the breeze encouraged the long leaves to flitter, dance, and block the view of the Marmalade beauty. Bitssy blissfully pounded over to the marmalade spot. No Marmalade cat!

"Oh dear," grumbled Bitssy, her bottom lip almost scooping up the leaf litter, "I must have been butterfly dreaming."

Suddenly, with a meowing laugh, the huge, portly, sleepy eyed Marmalade cat appeared from behind a swaying jungle leaf.

"Hello dog," flicked Marmalade cheekily. "I don't like it when somebody is watching me go to the toilet so I hid from your prying little doggy eyes. Toileting is my business if you don't mind. No checking out my private regions thank you."

Bitssy blushed and coyly rubbed her ears with her paw.

"Sorry, excuse me, very sorry Marmalade. I didn't know you were toileting."

Marmalade obviously wasn't too embarrassed as he turned his back to Bitssy, stretched out his front legs, chest greeting the mulch, and reached his loin and tail high up toward the gathering
thunderclouds.

Marmalade's bare crinkled cat's bottom was right in Bitssy's face. Bitssy was suitably embarrassed and plopped to the ground with both paws covering her eyes. Impish, vulgar, Marmalade! Showing private parts to others is just not on. Marmalade had already chided Bitssy about privacy for goodness sake! When Bitssy was game enough to sneak a look, Marmalade was gone. Again!

"How does he do that?" thought Bitssy, sniffing up the tantalising scent of citrus marmalade with her wiggling, wet, fine, superior dingo smelling tool.

"He's over there somewhere. Oh no, he's gone over the side fence, through the lime tree, into the front yard!”

Bitssy stood, one bent front leg suspended in mid air, ears pricked and forward, hairs on her spine standing up like she’d just stuck her toenail in a power point.

"Where's Caramel?" she nervously whispered to herself, or to any other garden friend who chose to hang around for the showdown and gangland killing.

Breaking the heavily depressing calm, Bitssy heard a few loud fast barks, a guttural growling, a spat, a noise like children make when they put stones in a soft drink bottle and roll it around, another bark, growl, tearing flesh, a scream like a dying cat, and then.... silence.

Standing in hope, eyes glued to the spot where Marmalade had made her exit to certain death, Bitssy began to feel very sad. Not even a visitor could enter the front yard.

“Poor Marmalade,” Bitssy thought wretchedly.

“Poor, poor Marmalade. He looked like a nice cat. If only I’d had the chance to warn him how scary and mean Caramel is. It’s my fault. I should have done something. I should have stopped him.”

Bitssy sat, head hanging, and bottom lip definitely now collecting leaf litter like it was a magnet. She slumped, contemplating the death taste of the musty leaf matter when suddenly, an obese
orange tail flicked her in the nose.

"Marmalade! You're alive! How did you do that?" purred Bitssy after rubbing her head all over Marmalade’s lime stained, and very bad tasting body.

"Ohhhhhh, a catdog that purrs instead of bites," teased Marmalade, wrapping his beautiful strong tail around his fat haunches as he sat eyeball to eyeball with Bitssy. "How do you do that?"

Bitssy, excited and over the moon (which wasn't even out yet), ran around Marmalade in circles that got tighter and tighter. Then, just to really display her excitement, Bitssy did a couple of groovy mid air reverse flips that are usually only seen in the feline species when falling from great heights. Misjudging the distance, Bitssy ended up landing on top of Marmalade, who didn’t squirm, spit, and run off like the average cat would have done. Marmalade instead opened his mouth wide, poked out his sandpaper squid grey tongue, squinted his eyes as much as any fat cat could, and looked like he was praying to the cat Guru above.

Bit 4. Catmando and Reef Knots.
Bit 5. Bitssy Gets it Good!
Bit 6. Clown Fish Won't Survive in Limejuice.
Bit 7. The Mellow Yellow Prophecy.
Bit 8. Poison Snake Catches a Rat on the Front Verandah
Bit 9. Snot Nice
Bit 10. Hot Toast with Vegemite.
Bit 11. Off Caramel Smells Like Rotting Lime.
Bit 12. A Dog's Body
Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.
Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.
Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.
Eulogy.

To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Bit 4. Catmando and Reef Knots.

Bit 4, Catmando and reef knots.


"Oh do stop flipping like a dying clown fish from the Great Barrier Reef will you! Come here, listen up, and I'll tell you how you’re dogging life, not behaving at all bravely, like the dingo that you look like.”

Marmalade licked his paw and ran it expertly along his eyelashes to make them glisten with knowledge.

“Catastrophe 1: Talk up will you, your bark is much worse than your bite, it just doesn’t exist!

Catastrophe 2: Learn to recognise a reef knot. It’s a strong boundary knot that will help to pull you, and me, out of trouble.

Catastrophe 3: Being scared doesn’t stop you from doing things, you just have to do them differently. And,

Catastrophe 4: Dream aplenty so that Catman-do and din-go anywhere they want.”

Bitssy had no idea what Marmalade was talking about. It sounded so, clever. No, so silly. No no, it sounded, plain weird. It was like a riddle that Bitssy had to work out to pass a test. She figured that Marmalade must have been very wise and that she’d remember the lessons if she ever needed them.

Bitssy and Marmalade became the best of friends, inseparable and loyal (except when it came to seafood for dinner because they both loved it). Despite their differences over prawns and fishy bitties, Bitssy had the greatest respect for Marmalade and yearned for his long and unscheduled visits. That Marmalade had a life! He would go wherever, and whenever, he wanted.

“Cat-man-do and din-go,” Bitssy played it over and over in her mind like a favourite CD track on repeat.

“I wonder if that means cat man do and dingo go wherever they want?”

Oh how Bitssy wanted to do that, to check that the world out front was safe. If only it wasn't for Caramel……….

Bit 5. Bitssy Gets it Good!
Bit 6. Clown Fish Won't Survive in Limejuice.
Bit 7. The Mellow Yellow Prophecy.
Bit 8. Poison Snake Catches a Rat on the Front Verandah
Bit 9. Snot Nice
Bit 10. Hot Toast with Vegemite.
Bit 11. Off Caramel Smells Like Rotting Lime.
Bit 12. A Dog's Body
Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.
Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.
Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.
Eulogy.
To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Bit 5. Bitssy Gets it Good!



Bit 5, Bitssy gets it good!


On a starlit tropical night some few weeks later, as the provoking fresh and sweet smells of frangipanis and mangos were drifting in through the screens daring Bitssy to come outside and play, an angry voice from the kitchen halted her in her stride.

"No! Do not call here again. I do not want to change telephone companies. I have told you five times already. Good bye!"

Slam went the telephone, marching went the big person, up went the music, slide went the windows, and pling went the sound of the air conditioner being turned on.

“Air conditioner!” caught on Bitssy, “Fantastic!”

Heartened by the knowledge that her big person was about to sit on the lounge for a cool cuddle, Bitssy raced to the comfy chair in front of the television. The chair that always had a semi chewed rawhide bone and was beside the antique glass cabinet with all its treasures twinkling out happily. But happy and cool was not the order of the evening.

"Not yet," snapped the usually patient and cooperative big person to Bitssy as she attempted to commandeer all of the chair, "I'm too hot!"

Shaken up and knotted on her insides by her big person's rejection, Bitssy sat, still. She felt confused by the angry tone, and cautiously watched her human’s every move. Her voice had sounded like the steam hissing and rising from hot concrete after a sudden downpour of rain. Did the big person not love her anymore? Why did her insides feel like a curdled milk shake being stirred by a thick-knotted rope? Was everything alright? Bitssy had never witnessed such ferocity, such Caramel-like scary behaviour, coming from her big person.

"I'm not going to take this," Bitssy's big person said out loud, in a rather annoyed voice. "This is my home, my space, my privacy: my barrier to the invading world. I will not have my boundaries interrupted by some pushy little man trying to get me to change phone companies. What do you think we should do Bitssy?"

Without waiting for an answer, up she got, marched back to the phone and called the company to tell them not to ever call her again.

"And I'm going to tell at least five friends not to change to you either!" Slam.

Bitssy, glued to the same spot, eyes as wide as a possum’s, was feeling really scared now. Her legs had that same jelly feeling that she got with Caramel. Her mind was racing around like a mouse on a wheel: no start, no end, and no escape. Her blood, rushing down through her body like rainwater racing for a storm drain, was cold, making her feet feel heavy and waterlogged. Inside her head a big piece of scratchy reef coral told her that things were out of place, not right.
“Stop. Stop,” she pleaded with her own fear. “You’re a Dingo. Be strong. Be fearless.”

Focusing on the way her wobbly body felt and wishing it to be as strong as steel, she reminded herself that she had no reason to fear her big person. Caramel? Yes, maybe. But her big person? No! She just needed to sort through these funny body feelings stirred up by the change in her big person. A light bulb began flickering in her mind. Bitssy glimpsed that the strange telephone situation was a little like her own fear of Caramel. Yes, that’s it! The big person did still love Bitssy, and she was just angered by something else, something threatening. Bitssy was wrongly reading the behaviour and thinking that she must have been in trouble for something she hadn’t done. The big person’s anger was meant for the man on the telephone, not for Bitssy! How could she have got is so mixed up? While Bitssy did have something to fear from Caramel, there was no real reason to fear the big person. The big person was sticking up for her rights, being assertive and strong. A Caramel alien had invaded the big person’s space and she just wasn’t standing for it.

“It’s okay,” Bitssy silently patted herself, her sides heaving in and out with short, sharp breaths. “It’s okay. You’re not in trouble.”

Bitssy had always been a deep thinker, a thinker who also loved to play, to be free, and to have friendships with everyone that she came across. There was nothing wrong with that combination. Despite Bitssy’s butterdog love of nature and play, her bottomless thinking was what really made her special. It wasn't really the way she looked, or her friendliness to everyone, animal and human. It was her amazing ability to see things for what they really were - once she slowed down a little and had a chance to think about it.

Bitssy had been thinking a lot about Caramel lately, about how Marmalade could come and go to the front yard, and survive to spit out another chewy Caramel story. There was no caramel sticking Marmalade’s teeth together though. Once he got started on the subject there was nothing holding his mouth shut. He could even word vomit about Caramel while he was eating his favourite food!

Marmalade said that he wasn't scared of Caramel because he knew that Bitssy's front yard wasn't Caramel's front yard. It was personal space that belonged to the people who lived at 222 Jensen Street. Marmalade had helped Bitssy to understand it by using the example of why big people shut the door when they went to the toilet. It was because it was their private space, just like the day they first met and Marmalade said he didn’t like people watching him when he was toileting. That’s why front yards had fences too, to tell people that it was private space. That’s why people wore clothes too, to tell others that the parts covered by clothing were private. They would not be shared with anyone at all!!!!!! Bitssy figured that her neck must be a private body part then, because she always wore a beautiful red collar. Marmalade just laughed and told Bitssy she was funny. He then went into a long boring explanation about why humans don’t like dogs sniffing their butts – it’s because humans refuse to speak animal language and they think that just by wearing pants, dogs will get the message that it is their body space, no sniffing allowed. But after checking out that you’re safe, dogs just sniff to say hello and to make friends. Wouldn’t you think the big people would let the dogs know they don’t like the butt sniffs? Like they could say: no, stop, go away. Save that sniffing for the dogs thanks! Big people use words, dogs sniff. It’s natural.

Marmalade also expertly told an outrageous story about a time he was stalking a rat for dinner. The rat, escaping with pure rat cunning, jumped from a tree and looked like it was going to land in the back of the farmer’s truck. Being quick, young, handsome and agile, Marmalade outsmarted the ratty thinking and tried to land in position first. Imagine… waiting in the back of the truck, open mouthed, as the rat dropped straight into the jaws of death! However, that damn farmer had one of those new fangled burglar alarms on his truck, the kind that went off the moment the truck was touched. So there’s Marmalade, all cool like, knowing he’s got tucker covered and the blinking alarm goes off, just as Marmalade lands in the back tray. It scares the cat out of him and he’s straight off the side and running for his life, in the opposite direction of the rat.

Why did the alarm go off? Because it was the farmer’s truck silly! He owned it and he didn’t want anyone to touch it or be in his space. Bitssy found this all too difficult to understand but she knew she wanted to be like Marmalade when she grew up: free and wise, with plenty of her own body space stories to tell!

Bitssy's mind clicked over as she thought about the similarities between Marmalade’s go where he wants behaviour and stories, filthy Caramel, and the big person's scary telephone call. And then, like a fluorescent spotlight pinpointing the darkest thought in her mind, Bitssy got it. She got it good. She understood what she had to do, and she would no longer be scared. She would be a strong body from Dog’s Body. She would turn the light on Caramel, show everyone how black she was, and let Caramel know about private body space on the front verandah of 222. She would try something different: she would use her body to speak to Caramel, to let her know that this was Bitssy’s world (and Marmalade’s and the big person’s too).

Bit 6. Clown Fish Won't Survive in Limejuice.

Bit 7. The Mellow Yellow Prophecy.

Bit 8. Poison Snake Catches a Rat on the Front Verandah

Bit 9. Snot Nice

Bit 10. Hot Toast with Vegemite.

Bit 11. Off Caramel Smells Like Rotting Lime.

Bit 12. A Dog's Body

Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.

Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.

Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.

Eulogy.

To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Monday, January 22, 2007

Bit 6. Clown Fish Won't Survive in Limejuice.




Bit 6, Clown fish won’t survive in limejuice.

When Bitssy was still a wee puppy, living in Brisbane, she had formed Dog’s Body, a watchdog group armed with the protective force of multiple members. The dogs all watched out for each other and kept their lines of communication open by bark passing their messages through the town.

In Cairns, although very happy, Bitssy sometimes felt alone, separated from her earlier friends. Feeling a bit down in the dumps, like her heart was a big heavy rock, Bitssy wandered down the back yard looking for a grasshopper or an emerald green Christmas beetle to brighten her up. Just as she was about to stick her nosy snout under the beautiful, flowering Crimson Impatiens, it was struck with a small, orange, hand of velvet.

"Marmalade!" gushed Bitssy, "Where have you been for so long?" The two friends hugged, engaging in a feat of acrobatics that looked as though they were wrestling each other, in the garden bed, squashing the fragile Impatiens. Oops, no cut flowers for the tea table tonight.

"Marmalade! I have missed you so much. Come and tell me all your new stories of rat chasing in the sugar cane fields. You’re as fat as a devil so you must have some delicious and alarming stories to tell."

Marmalade meowed and meowed, just like a kitten caught up a tree, eager to be back in his own safe little space.

"Bitssy," Marmalade complained, "I have missed you more this trip than I have ever missed you before. Come, come, let’s jump the side gate and take up residence on the front verandah so that all the street can see that I'm home."

The two friends freestyled toward the side gate. Right at the last minute, just as Marmalade launched himself into the air like a missile looking for a target, Bitssy hit the skids, and slid right smack bang into the gate.

"Yelp!" cried Bitssy, a piece of grass hanging from her nose like a long stream of wandering green nose waste that had lost its way in a sneezing rush. She had tried to use her nose like an anchor, to slow down her speeding excitement, but the memory of the danger over the fence was what really stopped her plain sailing and brought her back to port.

Marmalade, balancing still as a statue on an awfully thin and drooping lime tree branch (already weighted down by limes), surveyed the scene of Bitssy below and quickly decided that Bitssy was, well, a complete dork!

"Merr, merr, merr, cough." A noise like a car engine trying to kick over sounded from Marmalade’s mouth. "Merr, merr, merr, hahaha, hahaha." Not only did the merriment shake the limes from their sanctuary, but Marmalade was now laughing so hard, that he too dropped from the lime tree, straight into the front yard’s, colourful and woody crotons below. He was crowded over by the beautiful, thick, yellow and red huge waxy leaves but Bitssy could easily locate him in the shuddering laughing bright shrub.

"Hahahaha, tehee, hee, merr, merr, merr."

Marmalade was rolling around with laughter so much that he looked like he was competing for a Guinness World Book of Record attempt at making lime juice! The limes underneath the crotons were being catapulted in all directions at an amazingly fast rate. As they hit their targets, they split and squirted their tangy acidic juice with stinging precision.

Bitssy, a little baffled and overpowered by the stinging lime nuclear missiles that exploded upon impact with her body, cocked her head to the side while she tried to work out Marmalade's condition. Squinting her eyes for protection, she judged that, no, Marmalade wasn't hurt, or drunk. Marmalade was just, well, a croton cretin! Bitssy jumped, front legs on top of the gate, back feet firmly planted on the ground lest she also have a lime collapse like poor Marmalade, and began laughing over the gate at her friend.

"Marmalade, you big old tom cat. I think you're the clown fish today. Now stop liming down and come back here before you explode like a puffer fish washed up on the beach."

At those endearing words, Marmalade mustered his humour into control, and flick, was on the top of the gate lovingly sharing his lime-slimed head against Bitssy's.

"Bitssy," dripped Marmalade (yes, actually dripped, Marmalade had little drips of limey saliva falling from his tongue). "You are my best friend. I adore you and I am going to tell you just what I think of you and your clown fish thinking. See that magnificent botanic recreational area for grubs out there? That's your front yard Bitssy. That's a place you're allowed to go. That's your body, buddy. That's your spot."

Bitssy nearly unbalanced Marmalade with the huge lick that she planted on his head. What a mistake! After spitting out the burning, sour lime juice, she trotted toward her back verandah to sprawl out on her little round trampoline, the one with a really soft and comforting sheepskin on it. Bitssy only ever went near it when she needed to think (and on this occasion to roll off the lime juice).

Bitssy settled in to think. Marmalade spoke the truth as usual. Bitssy had every right to play in her own front yard. Bitssy had to practise being that strong and assertive dog from Dog’s Body: the dog that drew on her own inner strength backed up by sound safety thinking skills. Bitssy would start that very afternoon, right after she had a little nap.

Bit 7. The Mellow Yellow Prophecy.
Bit 8. Poison Snake Catches a Rat on the Front Verandah
Bit 9. Snot Nice
Bit 10. Hot Toast with Vegemite.
Bit 11. Off Caramel Smells Like Rotting Lime.
Bit 12. A Dog's Body
Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.
Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.
Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.
Eulogy.




To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Bit 7. The Mellow Yellow Prophecy.


Bit 7, The Mellow Yellow Prophecy.

The sound of a familiar car in the driveway stirred Bitssy and Marmalade from their hilarious dreams about Marmalade’s exploits on his latest travel adventure. Running to the side gate, the big person greeted them with the same liveliness that they greeted her.

"Hello my babies," she crooned, "it's so good to come home. Hello Marmalade. For a stray cat you're awfully well fed. Must be plenty of rats around, hey! What’s that strong smell? Have you two been making lime drinks to burn off some rat fat?"

The big person laughed at her joke, picked Marmalade up, hugged him tightly until his eyes almost popped out and his fat little legs jiggled helplessly like a baby being smothered by a giant. She devotedly scratched Bitssy behind her ear, just the way Bitssy loved it, and gazed into her flawless, strong brown eyes.

"Hello darling. Lets get a beer, go sit on the front verandah, and watch the flying foxes take off for the night."

As Bitssy's big person unlocked the back door and held it open for the two friends to enter the house, Bitssy's mind raced.

"Now's my chance. It's the moment for my strength to shine out, to finally sparkle. A test for my inner strength. Now's my opportunity to face my fear...to face Caramel on MY front verandah and to really check that all is sweet outside my front door.”

Bitssy hesitated on the doorframe to think more. A timid, harmless little house spider retreated in haste across her paw but she jumped as though she’d been spooked by a ghost.

“No, I can’t do it,” Bitssy gulped as she swapped power for panic, her jerking ears, wilted tail and darting eyes plainly showing her alarm like a clock’s unwelcome calling first thing in the morning. “Caramel makes things all wrong. It’s all wrong. Caramel will hurt me, and my family."
Both the big person and Marmalade watched Bitssy. It was as though they could read her mind as well as her body. Marmalade’s own early warning signs kicked in and his tail began to flicker.
Upset, a look of rude annoyance crept over his face.

"Come on Bitssy," Marmalade snarled with his entire body, "I want to sit with you on your front verandah." If Marmalade had been able to cross his arms on his chest, stick his nose in the air, and close his eyes to everything that was going on around him, he would have done so: just to prove that he was poopy!

"What's wrong Bitssy? Not still scared of that yellow Caramel are you?" guessed the big person, "Caramel will do as she's told. To break her power over you, you just have to politely tell her to pull her head in and to let her know that we support you. After all Bitssy, it is your front verandah."

Bitssy gulped, trembling, "Oh no. I'm not ready, I'm not ready."

Bit 8. Poison Snake Catches a Rat on the Front Verandah

Bit 9. Snot Nice


Bit 10. Hot Toast with Vegemite.


Bit 11. Off Caramel Smells Like Rotting Lime.


Bit 12. A Dog's Body


Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.


Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.


Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.


Eulogy.



To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Bit 8. Poison Snake Catches a Rat on the Front Verandah

Bit 8, Poison snake catches a rat on the front verandah.

Marmalade and the big person sat together in the swinging love seat on Bitssy's front verandah. Caramel was there too, warily keeping her distance while she judged the situation to see if the big person was a threat to her. The big person stroked Marmalade and talked to him about all the yummy food he had missed. She told him about the left over trifle from a special birthday dinner, about how Bitssy gobbled the leftovers and slept for hours in the mud hole under the house. Marmalade encouraged the storytelling by rubbing himself against the big person and purring as loud as an overhead plane.

Caramel confidently approached the big person for a bit of a rough up. She had decided that she would be able to fool the big person into liking her and that she would soon have her eating out of her paw. Yes, she could groom her into accepting that she was a lovely, sweet dog, in whose mouth butter would not melt. Just as the big person extended her arm to give Caramel a neighbourly head rub, Marmalade sprang to life, his four feet together, tightly, hair on end like an Echidna’s spikes, back arched, and hissed like a volcano letting off steam. Caramel and the big person stopped, a little taken aback by the interruption.

Nothing. Caramel took another step toward the big person, her phony smiling face looking all innocent, and Marmalade released his full meaning of the interruption. He struck and spat. His chubby little front leg was like a deadly snake striking, quick and purposeful. He didn't actually strike Caramel, didn't want to hurt her, just provided her with an assured, "No. This is our boundary. You won’t trick me with your slimy, friendly behaviour."

Nobody was sure what to do. Marmalade skillfully used his body signs to make it clear that he meant business, that Caramel had no place near the big person. Still arched with his hair on end, Marmalade began a continuous, low growl. Cowardly, like the yellow marshmallow that she really was, Caramel hung her head, tail between her legs, and stepped off the verandah. She walked around and around, softening up a patch of grass, shot a deadly look toward Marmalade, and plopped, seemingly dejected, onto the ground. A low toned “grrumph” escaped from
Caramel’s snout like the noise a child makes when they discover there are no Smarties left in the packet.

The big person laughed. She flung her head back, opened her mouth wide, and laughed. The fillings in her back teeth looked like little silver fish and Marmalade wondered whether he should jump in and catch them.

"You tell her, Marmalade. This is our space. Go boy. No body gets to touch my body while old Marmalade’s around."

Marmalade quickly reconsidered that he probably shouldn’t jump into the big person’s mouth for a fishing expedition, and the big person smoothed Marmalade’s crinkled spiky hair.

“That Caramel’s got more front tooth than a carnivorous rat, hasn’t she Marmalade? I think she’s just run into the rat trap though.”

Placing her beer on the side table, she used both hands to cup Marmalade’s head and kiss his velvety little nose. Craning her neck to make eye contact, she looked back toward Bitssy, alert and silent on the inside of the front screen door.

"Hey Bitss, what did you think about that?"

And think Bitssy did. She had soaked up the entire scene, soaked up how confident Marmalade was. He was like a bus sticking to its timetable. Most curious though, was that Marmalade had the full support of the big person. Even though the big person did not dislike Caramel, she just seemed to understand that Caramel didn't belong there and couldn’t do bad things on Bitssy’s front verandah. Despite Caramel’s sugar coating, she knew there was stale, mouldy bread underneath.

"Meow, come on Bitssy. From out here you can see the undertaker birds poking the ground for grubs, the flying foxes swooping for choice positions, and you can see those kids across the road playing in the pool. Come on out to the cool world, Bitssy."

Poor Bitssy. She quivered with excitement, and wanted to bound through the door, but Caramel was still there. Still waiting to sweetly destroy her, lick her lips and walk elegantly back across the road as though nothing had happened. Despite the believable feeling of the black, offensive, stinkin’ thinkin’ that was clogging up Bitssy's mind, she kept trying to convince herself,

"This is my home, my space, my privacy. If anything bad happens I'll just tell my big person and Marmalade. They'll help me."

Cross-eyed and exhausted with fighting her own unbearable dark thoughts, Bitssy opted for a nap. All of the strange feelings inside her were just too big and heavy. They made Bitssy feel as though she had run a marathon, in the middle of a thunderstorm, ducking the lightening strikes and being crippled by the deafening thunder. Curled up on the rug just inside the front door, Bitssy nodded off to the sounds of Marmalade and the big person enjoying their own space and experiencing all that was well in the sweltering tropical paradise.

Bit 9. Snot Nice
Bit 10. Hot Toast with Vegemite.
Bit 11. Off Caramel Smells Like Rotting Lime.
Bit 12. A Dog's Body
Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.
Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.
Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.
Eulogy.

To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Friday, January 19, 2007

Bit 9. Snot Nice

Bit 9, Snot Nice.
Hearing young voices, close, very close, Bitssy awoke to find two beautiful children standing at the edge of her front verandah. It was the enticing children from across the road, Cindy and Matty. Cindy was tall and slim, with shoulder length chestnut hair that glistened like the dark red cherries hidden in a Christmas trifle. She had a little scar on her chin that looked like a crevice that a baby gecko might hide in.

“Ohhh, I’d like to lick that,” thought Bitssy cheerfully.

Matty was a short, wide little person, even his hair was shorter and his pants wider. He was colour coordinated with a lickable, yellow, bubbly soda stream running from his nose. Bouncy yellow plastic rings around his upper arms and poking through the top of his pants, made him look like one of the Teletubbies on television or the Incredible Hulk with yellow fever. Both of the children had pearls of twinkling soft, silver dewdrops all over their tanned bodies. They wore little clothing, just enough to cover their private parts. That's right, before Bitssy went to sleep, Marmalade had said he could see the children swimming in their pool.

Bitssy was up and panting at the screen. Her tail was on high, creating a breeze that could cool a sweltering room. The big person was cheerily talking to the children, and then the children noticed Bitssy.

"Hello Bitssy," blurted Matty excitedly, walking toward the screen door.

"Don’t let her out Matty," chided Cindy, hands on her hips, and lips making a thin straight line like she’d just sucked a lime, "she's not allowed out the front."

"It's okay, Cindy," said the big person whilst looking pointedly at Bitssy, "Bitssy is allowed out front, she just chooses not to come and join us."

Matty wiped his nose with the back of his hand and opened the screen door, just a crack. Without a moment’s thought, Bitssy pushed boldly through. She licked Matty on the hand, licked him a second time because he tasted so nice, knocked him senseless with her passionate tail and headed straight into the wet, welcoming arms of Cindy.

"Hello girl. You're beautiful. Don’t lick, don’t lick, snot nice. Want to come and play ball with Matty and me?"

Matty pulled a sodden yellow tennis ball from out of the front of his bulging swimming togs and threw it toward Cindy. Given that Cindy's arms were full of Bitssy, she luckily missed the ball and it rolled off the edge of the verandah, straight into the grimy paws of Caramel.

“Errh, Matty, didn’t you have that ball down your pants? Near your penis? Matty’s got a penis, Matty’s got a penis,” Cindy rudely teased and embarrassed Matty.

Matty hung his head and stuck his bottom lip out like a fish taking a final gasp of air. Eyes downcast, arms hanging sadly by his sides he quietly said,

“Don’t say that Cindy. I’m going to tell on you.”

Caramel didn’t care what the ball was near. She eagerly slobbered bacteria and slime all over the ball. She looked expectantly toward the children while sending a quick, sly little side winding glance of “Ha, ha, I’ll get you,” to Marmalade.

Looking down and seeing only Caramel with the ball, Matty decided that she was much worse than his sister.

"Not you, Caramel. Go home. You're a pest," he said as he sniffed a soft yellow candle back up his nose, and feeling happier already, merrily picked at the sore that was beginning to form just on the inside of his nostril.

"Yeah Caramel, you don’t live here. This is Bitssy’s and Marmalade’s yard," echoed Cindy.

Marmalade was sitting back with a grin that belonged to the Cheshire cat. "Welcome to the front world," he purred. "Welcome to a world that belongs to you. Bring your body here, buddy, and enjoy your space."

Bitssy was standing on her front verandah for the first time ever! She looked with new eyes upon the fantastic scene before her; playful children, happy and relaxed big person, and a big, fat, orange blob who looked like he'd won a sack full of rats on a chocolate wheel. Bitssy took a deep breath and was just about to woof her happy thoughts. But then, she saw Caramel. Caramel, crouched low on the ground, eyes focused on Bitssy's throat, filthy teeth exposed in a grimace, and waiting, just waiting for Bitssy to move forward.

Bit 10. Hot Toast with Vegemite.
Bit 11. Off Caramel Smells Like Rotting Lime.
Bit 12. A Dog's Body
Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.
Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.
Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.
Eulogy.



To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Bit 10. Hot Toast with Vegemite.

Bit 10, Hot toast with vegemite.

Bitssy was terrified. She could only think of having her throat ripped out by a mangy yellow monster. Solid with fear and unable to move her head, Bitssy's eyes darted around the unfamiliar setting. She could see the front fence, a barrier to her escape to the front. A side fence, sentried by dark spiky unfamiliar plants, acted as another barrier. The timber wall to her immediate right side blocked the view of any other means of escape and became a torture holding cell.

Her heart, pounding in her throat, spurted overheated plasma into her ears and brain. Bitssy could feel herself going faint with alarm.

"I'm going to die," she thought sadly to herself, "I'm going to be murdered and nobody will help me."

The big person had an amazing ability to understand Bitssy's body language. She gently reached out to stroke Bitssy.

"Come over here, my darling Bitssy. Come and sit with me." She patted the space right beside herself and then scratched Bitssy behind her ear. "Come on Bitssy, come and help me watch the children play."

Still frozen with terror, Bitssy just stood, silently crying and hoping that Caramel wouldn't hurt her big person, Marmalade or the children.

"I love them so much," Bitssy thought, "I hope they know that."

Bitssy forced her head to move, to make final eye contact with the big person she loved most. Caramel quietly growled, and Bitssy felt the warm stream of urine run down her two back legs and pool around her back feet. Her long furry tail, usually erect and wagging, now hung limp and dragged in the urine.

Matty began to laugh, "Look, look, Bitssy peed herself. Yuck. Bitssy peed herself."

"Oh gross," Cindy squealed loudly enough for the entire street to hear, "Bitssy did a pee. That's disgusting."

Poor Bitssy. Never had she felt so ashamed and such a failure, so weak and badly behaved in front of the people she loved most. Her fear though, was gigantic. It towered way above her embarrassment, and she could do nothing to soothe it. She still stood, shaking, and just wanted to die quickly.

The big person jumped up from her chair and hugged Bitssy.

"It's okay my darling. It's okay. You're safe with us. Don’t you worry about peeing on the verandah. I'll clean it up."

Just like a fussy, do everything right Mother, Cindy complained, “But the germs? Dog pee has bad things in it, things that can make you sick and weak and I don’t want to catch an awful thing!”

“Don’t you be too concerned about that Cindy. There’s all sorts of ways to get rid of germs. I’m not about to let you become sick while you’re at my house.”

The big person stood and walked the full two strides to the front door. Opening the screen and stepping inside, Bitssy saw her chance. This was it. Escape. Escape back into a world where she was safe. Just as Bitssy was ready to run, helpful little Matty grabbed Bitssy by the collar and began to lead her away from the urine germ puddle. Her head was competing in a tug-a-war of choice. Bitssy wasn't sure whether to run for the door with Matty dragging behind her, or to growl and warn Matty off so that she could escape. Bitssy knew she couldn't do that. How could she ever growl at a child or leave them to be savaged by the monster? In the split seconds that it took these thoughts to play through Bitssy's mind, it was too late. The big person was inside and the screen door had closed.

Bitssy faced her fear. She turned and looked toward Caramel. Caramel also saw her chance and flew straight for Bitssy. A terrible fight erupted, like a volcano spewing its fury over all in its path. Caramel had Bitssy pinned to the ground, against the wall, and was ripping into Bitssy's ear and neck. The sound of tearing flesh and ripping muscle was louder than thunder on a dark, dark night. Blood was flicking toward all points of the compass and the early evening curlews began their sorrowful death cry.

Bitssy, knowing she was finished and about to go to dog heaven, gave up. Somewhere far away, behind the funeral call of the curlews, Bitssy could faintly hear the voices of children, her big person and the ferocious growls of a violent wild wolverine. Louder than anything else though was a voice within Bitssy's own head, "my home, my space, and my privacy".

That one loud little voice travelled throughout Bitssy's body like the warming feeling of hot toast and vegemite. Perhaps it was the vitamin B from the vegemite, or perhaps it was Bitssy's belief in her own space, but whichever it was, it gave Bitssy courage; courage to not die, but to tell Caramel to back off.

Bitssy fought to her feet, smashing the crushing steel hunter’s trap from her leg. She became aware that her friends were trying to drag Caramel off her, the big person fully entangled in the momentary pause of the fight and Cindy, screaming and whacking into Caramel with a wire broom. Bitssy shook her ear free from Caramel’s filthy mouth, threw back her head and loosed the wolves that had been hiding deep inside the fear spot in her stomach. The wolves galloped out of Bitssy's mouth, free at last.

"Don’t touch me Caramel. Not ever," Bitssy howled. "This is my body. My home. My space. My privacy. Leave nooooowwwwwww!"

Her power regained with the assistance of the wild, pack hunting wolves, Bitssy looked at the scene around her. The children, big person and Marmalade were all still on hyper alert, somewhat like wolves themselves. They were waiting for Caramel to dare to break the power of Bitssy's inner strength. Caramel did again growl and flash her thunderous eyes, until she saw the raised broom quickly losing altitude from Cindy's determined little arms. Matty’s stout little leg, raised in a kickboxing position, was just waiting to place that final wolf attack into the monster’s heel. Defeated by all the arrows fired at her, Caramel slinked away, humiliated that she wasn’t top dog, dragging her bruised feelings along the ground. A bull ant must have stung her on her soft underbelly because Caramel yelped, did a high somersault and ran across the road, whimpering, her tail between her legs.

Matty begun to laugh and jump up and down, filling his mouth with stretchy, sticky nose mucus that clung to anything it touched, "Look, look, Caramel peed herself! Yuck. Caramel peed herself."

Not in the least worried by flicking mucus or yellow pee, Bitssy was trying to move her broken, injured body so that she could make eye contact with the wolverine that had come to visit just at the right time. She wanted to thank the creature for helping the others to scare Caramel off. But the wolverine must have already made its escape, revolted by Caramel’s unneighbourly behaviour, because there was no wolverine to be seen in her immediate support group.

Bit 11. Off Caramel Smells Like Rotting Lime.
Bit 12. A Dog's Body
Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.
Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.
Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.
Eulogy.



To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Bit 11. Off Caramel Smells Like Rotting Lime.

Bit 11, Off Caramel smells like rotting lime.

After the vet had stitched Bitssy's ear, back, and legs, tended to her neck puncture wounds, and given her a tetanus and antibiotic shot mixed with a sleeping potion, he was invited to stay and have an evening meal with the close little group. The children’s parents had come over in response to the distressing sounds of the dogfight and the curlews’ urgent call for help. After they locked Caramel into her own yard and angrily told the Caramel owners what had happened, the children’s parents were also invited to stay to tea. Before any food preparation though, the parents were provided with a box of tissues to mop up Matty’s wandering nose mess!

The children were given the task of decorating the Christmas tree while the adults together prepared dinner and talked adult talk about the dogfight. They quietly pondered over which department to tell, to have something done about the Jensen St yellow menace and whether the doctor would be able to see Matty tomorrow and give him a script for antibiotics! While
everyone was chatting, Bitssy’s big person snuck into her bedroom and made a call to report Caramel’s violence. There was no way she would allow her Bitssy to be further terrorised by the Jensen St terror.

Partly because the space was needed for the Christmas tree and mostly because everyone loved Bitssy, she was awarded the throne of achievement, the comfy favourite inside chair from beside the antique glass cabinet. After proudly drawing everyone’s attention to Bitssy’s Private Stripe awarded to her for services towards others’ rights, the big person dragged the chair out and placed it under the fan in the middle of the front verandah. The group, huddled as one, toasted Bitssy’s bravery with home made lime and honey cordial. They raised their glasses, said wonderful things about her courage and her inner strength, clinked their glasses together and drank in Bitssy’s release from her own prison.

Bitssy, her head resting on the arm of the chair, looked back at her human saviours, listened to the excited voices of the children discovering precious decorations, and wondered why she had taken so long to tell Caramel to can it. Even though standing up to Caramel had hurt her, Bitssy knew it would be better in the long run: the only way to stop Caramel’s control. If she hadn't gone out to the front verandah, these sounds of wonderment, joy and people coming
together wouldn't be happening.

Satisfied and proud of herself and her comrades, Bitssy fell asleep, curled around her watchful best friend. Swallowed up by her drug induced sleep, Bitssy’s poor little body quivered and shook while she dreamt of wolves: freedom messengers that demanded being listened to and being given plenty of space to roam her mind without anything killing them off or controlling them. They told Bitssy that her Australian Indigenous birthright had all the answers: her
dreaming. She had to listen and act upon it. She is a dingo, an Australian wolf, a creature skilled with sensing and carving out her territory, acting to defend it, and leading the fight for universal freedom without any other creature chaining her up and treating her like a caged Cockatoo at the zoo. Bitssy tried to roll over and shake the wolverdreaming from her brain. The wolves growled at this disobedience, and showed her a picture of the Great Barrier Reef, a place protected by a barrier, a safe place where if you fish, you will be fined. Bitssy was in this dream picture, not as a clown fish, but as the boundary hunter, protecting the fish.

Fuzzy headed from vet drugs and in a little pain, Bitssy awoke from her weird dream to the sounds of goodbyes. The mosquitos were abuzz with night-time gossip and the candles throughout the front garden had burned down, now looking like tiny ground fairies swaying to the music of the hot tropical jungle. The parents of the sleepy children were taking them home to be tucked into their beds and the vet stroked Bitssy's head, promising that she would soon feel better and that Caramel would get what she deserved.

Marmalade, noticing that top dog was finally awake, licked Bitssy's forelegs. He was purring and encouraging by his presence. Brave Marmalade had taken the uncomfortable position of guarding Bitssy on the front verandah while she slept off the vet’s sedative and pain-killer. Bitssy greatly appreciated his role, particularly given that the big people had cooked seafood for dinner, prawn toast even. Bitssy supposed that the alluring smell must have been rather difficult for Marmalade to stay away from and was wholly grateful for Marmalade’s surrender to personal duty.

"Thank you, Marmalade, you little wolf," croaked Bitssy softly, "Thank you for helping me to get what I wanted most: a life like you have. A life where I know what is mine and what I have to do to make sure no dog takes advantage of me or anyone else. All I had to do was to listen to my dingo instincts about right and wrong, to tell Caramel to back off, and to rely upon my pack of friends to support me. I love you, Marmalade, and now I'm going to kiss you."

Just as Bitssy was about to deposit her long, hot, dry, sick tongue on Marmalade's head, Marmalade lifted her front paw, claws extended and lightly swiped Bitssy on an unhurt part of her nose.

"Back off Bitssy. This is my body and you can’t touch it!"

Shocked, and a little taken aback, Bitssy looked deep into Marmalade’s eyes. When she saw the twinkle and recognised that the cat was just playing, she laughed so hard that tears ran from her eyes, both from joy and pain.

"Hey, hey, wolf dog," growled Marmalade, "Now I'm not joking. You're howling on my body and I don’t like it. Why don’t you just give me a wolf whistle if you love me that much!"

Marmalade jumped down from their love seat, swayed to the front fence and turned his back toward the house across the road. Eyes closed, nose in the air, and a look of untamed daring on his face, Marmalade sprayed a huge smelly tomcat pee.

Wiggling his backside he defiantly said, "Night Caramel. Sniff on this while your butt’s still toasting. This is our barrier and you aint comin’ back!"

Smelling his own territorial mark before covering it over, Marmalade screwed up his nose and complained,

“Phew, smells like rotting citrus. No need to cover this up. Hey, hey, yellow mellow, here’s the lime. Don’t step over it!”

Laughing like a pair of kookaburras, the friends scratched at the door, the front door, to indicate that they wanted re-entry into their cave, and preferably a big plate of prawn toast and scallop mornay.

Eyes spaced wide from shock and leaning against the wall for support, Bitssy tried to copy the big people’s way of showing respect:

“I toast you, Marmalade.”

“Of course you do, Bitssy. You mean you want to leave me the biggest bit of prawn toast, don’t you!”

Not being able to wink like humans when they joke, Marmalade wagged his tail cheekily, like a playful dog, and sped through the door the moment it was opened, straight to the kitchen with the yummy, toasty smell.

Bit 12. A Dog's Body

Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.

Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.

Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.

Eulogy.


To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Bit 12. A Dog's Body

Bit 12, A dog’s body

After the Christmas barbeque, while all the children were playing cricket in the back neighbour’s yard, Bitssy and her next door dogs sat together in the far adjoining corners of their fields of dreams. They discussed Bitssy whipping Caramel’s yellow butt by just standing up to her and how everydogbody needs their own space. The burning sun kept attempting to break up the focused friends by peeping in through the breaks in the shade, looking for a chance to send outdoor nature lovers scurrying for the safety of a house. Whereas the sun convinced the children and the parents to move around, the Dog’s Body Army sat stoic and attentive, like golden wolves on watch.

“I always knew you would get to go into the front world, Bitssy. I couldn't understand why you were so scared. Do you have any idea how many more frogs live out front? These crazy kids scare them to death in the backyard. Our little green mates have to stay out front to survive."

A cricket ball hit the fence, right beside the nature loving dog speaker’s back,

"See what I mean?" he winked one of his bloodshot hound dog eyes. He chuckled slowly, deep and cheekily. "These kids scare the death out of me. Hey you kids, want the ball?"

Mr Speaker picked the ball up in his slobbery, rubbery mouth, dropped his front legs to the ground, bum and wagging tail up and dared the kids to come catch. Just as a freckled little girl approached, her hat slipped down over one of her eyes like an eye patch, Mr Speaker ran for his life. Dashing in the opposite direction, he looked back to ensure that the girl child was giving chase.

“Come on girl, come get the ball,” Mr Speaker teasingly garbled through ball-clad teeth and hot dog spit backwashes that only a basset hound could produce. “Hey, I’ve got dog’s breath, I’ve got stinkin’ dog’s breath,” he proudly celebrated to the others. “Cool! Or hot! Or wicked! Or sick! Or puff! I dunno, I can’t work this big people talk out.”

The other three friends wagged with excitement and dreamt of jumping the fence to join the fun. Bitssy was thinking how wonderful it was to be brave and free. Her heart felt like it would burst into a full flowering sun jewel, a haven for ladybugs and pollinating honeybees. She was as free as a butterfly and as free as Marmalade. Her life was perfect. Her big person, her house, her front and back yard, the most wonderfully safe places in the world to be. This was her space and she loved it. In sheer glee Bitssy did jump the fence and joined the chaotic, yet fun, ball hunt.

Jules, the freckled and fast Mr Speaker chaser, ran toward Bitssy with her arms waving madly. Unsure of Jules’ one-eyed intentions and of what Jules might do to her, Bitssy stopped and cocked her head. Bitssy wanted to have some time to check the danger level before Jules got too close. Bitssy, practising being a full sensing wild dingo, didn’t feel any warning signs in her body about Jules. Normally Bitssy’s body would tingle, the hair on her back would stand up, her knees would turn weak, or she would feel like peeing if she sensed danger. No real danger. It was just that the girl child’s arms were waving around like a dragonfly doing aerial ballet of a suicide bombing nature and the crazy movement had startled Bitssy.

"Hey Bitss," puffed Jules, landing on her knees in front of Bitssy, all off balance like an emu thrown out of the back of a speeding ute, "Come,” puff, “play,” puff, “with us.” Puff, puff, puff. “Help me,” puff “get that ball."

Invitation extended, invitation accepted. Bitssy energetically leap-frogged toward the chase. She then stopped, suddenly. The hairs on her back stood up and her legs trembled like they did when she was cold. Her early warning signs of danger were there for all to see. Worse than the ball melting smell of Mr Speaker’s dog’s breath, was the scene that now attacked Bitssy’s eyes.

On the edge of the big people group, there stood Caramel. Caramel stared at Bitssy and licked her lips. Bitssy’s stinkin’ thinkin’ crept back in and, as she imagined another fight, she became very frightened. She wanted to pee and to return over the fence, to the safety of her back yard. Muddled by the great difference between her own inner fear talk that nobody else seemed to hear, and the very different merry sounds of the after Christmas lunch gathering that everyone could hear, Bitssy tried to feel the dingo power inside her. She tried to imagine what the wolves would have her do. In a moment of remembering, Bitssy tried to summon up the ghostly visiting wolverine, the one with the wild growls. It did not appear.

Sometimes it is easier to give in to old ways of doing things. Weak thoughts can swallow a vitamin boost of power and rapidly wrestle with strong feelings to trick and overpower them. Stinkin’ thinkin’ stinks! Once Bitssy’s weak thoughts had the hand of authority, savagely farting on her brain, her inner fight caved in to the rule of those lurking, rotten, hidden fears.

"Caramel will hurt me. I'm not in my yard. My big person is inside having a nap and Marmalade is doing a lazy Garfield on the chair. I'm all alone. These people won’t help me".

Caramel walked slowly and surely toward Bitssy, head low, her body language screaming volumes of aggression. Frozen with the fear of wrongly imagining what was going to happen, and deafened by the loud aggression leaping from Caramel’s hair, Bitssy stayed chained to the spot. When Caramel was only a dog’s length away, certainly within killing distance, her constant growling clear and threatening, Bitssy's sense of right and wrong began to return. It was almost as if Bitssy needed the growl of wrongness to awaken the voice of her slumbering rightness. A picture of herself as the boundary hunter, protecting the Great Barrier Reef, blew like fresh sea air into her brain. Suddenly she was a water wolf, rising up from the ocean and chasing the fishermen away. The powerful feelings that the water wolf gave Bitssy, chased her stinkin’ thinkin’ to an isolated and deserted island, patrolled by mutant, hungry, fear eating goannas. The island, surrounded by snapping waters full to overflowing with sharks and crocodiles, was impossible to escape from until fear was really needed. There fear cringed and fled from the light as it watched and listened to the voice of strength take control and become the winner.

Firmly standing her ground, head and shoulders on sentry duty, Bitssy now allowed her sleepy body rightness to be fully awoken by the rustling movement of wolf energy. The strength surged through her body like a bolt of lightening. Shaking off the clinging fear as it was being chased from the deepest, darkest, billabong of her dingo makeup, she breathed deeply and calmly and rethought her situation.

"Caramel can’t treat me like this. I might not be in my yard but it is not right to treat others this way. My space is one thing but this is my body, no matter where I am."

Bitssy's buried wolves came to her aid, rounding up her pack of assertive feelings, they tumbled from her jaws snapping the world to attention.

"That's enough, Caramel. I will not put up with your bullying and violence any longer. If you so much as touch a hair on my head, there are big people and other dogs here that will ensure that you do not leave the pound in a hurry. This is my body and I will take it where I want
without fear of you, or anyone else, hurting me. Go home, Caramel. You are not welcome here."

Caramel growled a mean, sly, laugh.

"You make me sick you stupid, skinny, bitsa. I think you'd better leave or I'll tear you to pieces. Look dogs, we've got a bitsa in our presence. Let’s teach her a lesson."

Looking around to the other dogs, Caramel was faced with their undivided and loyal support of Bitssy. After the front verandah bashing, the dogs had all decided that they would no longer be mates with Caramel. Caramel had to learn a lesson and withdrawing companionship was one very small thing they could all do together to stop her treachery. While Caramel thought she was still the Queen of Jensen St, the obvious support toward Bitssy was making Caramel look more like the Court jester.

"Come on pack, let’s get her," demanded Caramel of the other dogs.

Scared, but sure of her rights and body ownership, Bitssy did not move. She knew this was right and she was about to tell.

"Go home, Caramel. This is my body, my Dog’s Body. We look after each other to make sure that no-one is hurt." Bitssy threw her head upwards, her neck stretched to its full extent, and a
haunting dingo howl erupted from her throat. The big people stopped playing cricket and turned toward Bitssy. A couple of the children copied Bitssy, throwing their heads up and yowling too. One by one, the other dogs, Bitssy's Dog’s Body, joined the pack and the call of the wild rang out through Edge Hill. The chorus informed all the dogs of the suburb that Dog’s Body needed
collective support and that Caramel was wrong, she was causing trouble. Individually, all through the suburb, dogs recognised and answered the call. Caramel’s reign of terror was over.

Marmalade and Bitssy's big person dashed out onto their back verandah. Marmalade, fatter than ever after six pieces of smoked salmon on toast, recognised the scene before him.
Instinctively, he knew that Bitssy's fear of Caramel had gone for good. Those wolves were finally out of jail and were running, free, along the changing landscapes of Australia, just like dingoes were meant to. Never again would Bitssy needlessly be scared of something that she had some power of self-control over. Never would she give in to something that wanted to be kept scary and private. She would from now on tell others so that she could lessen the fear and send it off to the deserted island. Never again would her fear talk win above her understanding of right, wrong, and forced control.

Marmalade, fat as a desk general, stood to attention (a bow in his back created by his over filled tummy dragging on the ground). Tail straight to the ceiling, he threw back his head and let go a huge “meeeeeeeeooooooowwwwwww.”

"I salute you, Bitssy."

Observing Caramel slinking away from the house, unsure of exactly what had happened but proud of Bitssy nonetheless, the big person called her. Waving to her neighbours over the fence, she caught sight of a magnificent Christmas pavlova on their table, and remembered that she hadn’t yet had dessert.

“Come on Bitssy, darling. You and Marmalade come inside now, into the air conditioning, and we’ll have a bowl of caramel whip for Christmas afternoon tea. We could even have some toasted caramel in lime coconut, just to celebrate.”

Bitssy’s dog friends looked from one to another and began rolling around the grass laughing, backs wriggling like a semi with an extended trailer turning a corner, front one way, rear the other, and their legs doing circles in the air like they were riding a bike. Bitssy, although seeing the funny side of the dessert offer, did not immediately join the joke. She was proud of her own brave achievement, knew she had done the right thing, but she also felt a wee stab of sadness and loneliness for Caramel. Caramel who had no sweetness in her life, no pack to love her, no-one to share Christmas goodies with, and no dog who would ever put up with her bullying again. How could she eat caramel at an important time like this? Trifle though, if there was any trifle she’d have a bowl of that thanks!

Bit 13. The Goodbye Van.
Bit 14. Caramel on Toast.
Bit 15. The Final Dreaming.
Eulogy.

To purchase Bitss of Caramel Marmalade on Toast please visit this eBay store: Duncan's Emporium Gifts and Curios. They are selling the book at only A$12.00 plus postage. RRP is $15.00 (+ p and h)