Baby Liquorice accompanied us into Camden as Ma and Pa had an appointment to see their Podiatrist. It is not often that they have an appointment as close to home as Camden, which is about ten miles away and our nearest town, not counting Cobbitty with its combined shop/post office/liquor shop. Where else but Oz can you collect the mail and paper at the Post Office on a Sunday and get a refreshing beer! In spite of its proximity to Sydney Camden is still a country town with its slower old fashioned pace reflecting its past prosperous rural economy, wide streets, angle parking and no traffic lights! Recently though, roundabouts have been breeding like rabbits. With reluctance, Camden is being drawn into the modern world. A past visitor would now notice we have two hot bread shops, a gym, an Internet café and, most noticeably, unattended cars are now locked with their windows closed! A couple of months ago we even had two armed robberies in one week of a bank and a building society. I can just imagine our local police strolling up John Street and around the corner into Argyle Street to attend the crime scene. Not that I wish to imply that our constabulary are less than diligent in the discharge of their duties however a pleasant stroll in Camden beats chasing armed robbers any day.
We parked under a shady tree in a back street opposite the Podiatrist, took the oldies over to see Alison, then Liquorice and I went walkies. We headed off, up the hill towards John Street where St John’s church with its massive spire overlooks the surrounding countryside. Liquorice tried to stop and examine every scent as we walked up the wide grassy verge between the footpath and the kerb. Or as Pat Seawell would say, Liquorice wanted to “read her pee-mail”. Soon she realized that this was not on, but still managed to give each a passing sniff. At the top of the hill there is also a grand old home that reflects a glorious yesteryear. There I walked on a plate steel manhole cover the sound of which made Liquorice suddenly test her leash. She found it to be far too short or strong for her immediate need to be elsewhere! If her Dad was silly enough to stay put then she decided she had better stay too, just to protect him. There were clippings on the footpath from the recently trimmed hedge surrounding the big house and as we rounded the corner Liquorice, still a bit uneasy, took exception to the gardener still trimming the hedge further down John Street. Liquorice had never crossed a road with traffic on it before so we walked down the road a ways to where the cars were parked at an angle so my little darling would not have such a broad expanse of roadway to cross in one go. John Street is very wide. Liquorice crossed happily pleased to put some distance between her and that gardener. Liquorice was still giving him black looks as a nervous young fellow emerged rather dubiously from a parked car. He gave her a friendly pat when I explained that her attentions were directed at that gardener across the road. We walked down to my father’s Cardiologist to pay an account. In Australia canines are not well accepted in shops, offices etc so I tied Miss L to the railing just outside his office, which is in an old workman’s cottage recently done up. She sat quietly by the door where I could see her receiving pats as each person entered or left. It was a busy day. An ambulance brought in an elderly man in a wheelchair. The sound of the ambulance’s reversing buzzer was new to Liquorice. So too was the odd ring on the doctor’s fax machine. I held Liquorice while they wheeled the gentleman inside. They paused while the nurse commented on the lovely Newfoundland pup, she could not pat her though as the ambulance driver would not give up that privilege. Their patient spoke fondly but with sadness of his past dogs. I was proud of Liquorice. She behaved like a perfect little lady and it was also the first time she had been tied up! She knew not to pull on the lead, at least while she could see me!
Next we journeyed down John Street a little further. I saw a Cattle Dog on the back of a small tabletop utility excitedly racing back and forth depending upon which direction passing cars traveled. I wondered what Liquorice’s reaction would be to this very athletic and clearly hard-working dog. As it happened Liquorice passed unaware of his presence. That Cattle Dog saw my little darling and just watched, motionless, except for its head, which moved, following us as we passed. Its mouth was closed as it looked on in disbelief. Either that Cattle Dog did not know what Liquorice was or it had never seen a puppy bigger, in bulk if not weight, than itself! We crossed the road again to the Commonwealth Bank building, a modern styled edifice so out of place in Camden that no more “modern” buildings have been permitted since it was built in the 80’s. Some girls sitting on the seats there looked on in awe as we turned the corner into busier Argyle Street.
Crossing John Street I am always reminded of a momentous event from Camden’s illustrious past re-reported every year or two in the local paper. It was in the days prior to Camden being connected to the sewer. Very early one morning two horses pulling the sanitary cart bolted downhill from the top of John Street and collided with a decorative fountain/water trough in the middle of the intersection with Argyle Street smashing the cart and distributing the contents. Camden has in its time produced many notable people and memorable events but the morning the people of Camden decided to connect to the sewer stands out!
Baby Liquorice turned many heads and raised much comment as we walked briskly downhill or rather I walked downhill, Liquorice deciding to detour via one of the hot bread shops. I then kept her on a shorter lead. She was easily distracted by the many “Oohs!” and “Ahs!” the strange sounds, odd smells and movements as we progressed on our way. A pram being pushed uphill by a young mum with another child in tow startled Liquorice. The young mum asked many questions about my little darling. Her father conducts puppy classes in the country and she was happy to satisfy Liquorice’s apprehensions about the pram. As we passed a shoe shop with display tables on the footpath a little boy with glasses on stared open mouthed at Liquorice as his mum rummaged through the display. The look on his face matched that of the Cattle Dog, except the Cattle Dog kept his mouth closed. When we reached the quiet bottom end of town I allowed Liquorice to rest in the shade outside an estate agents window while I looked at the properties for sale. A voice asked, in broken English, what breed of dog Liquorice was. I turned to see an Arab gentleman, quite rare in Camden. New immigrants are uncommon in Camden, not because they are unwelcome but because Camden is not well known. It is like a favorite ancestor’s Cameo brooch that is sometimes worn, displayed briefly to the outside world but mostly cherished and revered privately by those few who know of its existence. We discussed Liquorice at length, despite his poor English. Liquorice saw a new friend as he went on his way. Then it was up Broughton Street and around the corner. I allowed Liquorice to lead me the last 150 yards or so to see if she would recognize the car or where she was. To my surprise she veered across the wide grassy verge and walked straight to the car. I gave her a drink and then across the road we went to see if the oldies were ready.
Liquorice does not underestimate my ability to get lost as exampled by the way I can become “lost” among the tree trunks, within sight of the house, as I lead her circling the same tree several times and repeating numerous figure-eights then retracing our steps. But now she understands why we are away for so long at times, her Dad cannot find the bloody car! Pardon the language!
Arthur Witten
Liquorice