Damn Gray!

So Gray is away till the end of October on a course. Whilst he gets to lap it up in Melbourne (read: get away from the frikkin' heat), I am left on dog patrol. Or, more specifically, cane toad watch. The week before Gray left, Steffi got two of them. Which is fine, we can tag team. With Gray gone, it's a whole different story. I don't mind chasing a very reluctant dog around the house with a wet tea towel so I can scrub the flesh from her gums. That's fine, it's a sport really. The real problem comes when I have to dispose of the blasted creatures myself. I am not strong of stomach and having to even look at a dead animal is enough to send me screaming for WIRES.

The cane toads are slimy. And ugly. And half dead. It really is a very special form of torture.

And they wonder why I'm counting down the minutes till I leave Darwin (it's a lot by the way).