On our way to our third road clearage, I checked my texts, finding a message from Ross. I grinned before even reading it.
“Let me guess, Ross?” Craig said from my side.
“He thinks Bessie’s finally in labour.”
“Him and that bloody goat.” He chuckled.
I smirked in agreement. The goats were pains, but I understood why Ross put up with them. They were entertaining and I supposed a little cute. “Mum will be loving it.”
“I’ll bet. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to steal the kid away.”
“You know it.” Mum was such a big softie with animals. It had only been since their travelling days they hadn’t been surrounded by animals of some description. It made for fun, exciting times growing up, never knowing what Mum adopted or nursed back to life. Each day offered a possible adventure.
“You remember when she thought rescuing those couple of bunnies would be a good idea?”
I shook my head in memory as I typed out a quick message to Ross. “Yeah. The multitude of new bunnies created as a result and then the hefty fine she received afterwards.”
Dad had been pissed off, especially as he’d reminded Mum countless times that keeping rabbits as pets in Queensland was illegal.
“Where we off to next?” I asked Sandra, having not really paid attention to the details of the next job.
“Heading over to Michaels Creek over at Hawthorn. There’s cattle on the road there.”
“Alive?” My brows dipped into a frown, hating the idea of the alternative.
“Yeah. The owner’s on the scene. Needs a hand.”
That was a relief. I texted the details to Ross, who’d asked where I was heading to.
Ross:Be safe.
Me: Good luck with Bessie.
As we drove closer to our next stop, I couldn’t help but wonder how many more call-outs we’d need to take. My thoughts briefly went to the day after tomorrow being Australia Day, aware that in many ways, our community would be “celebrating” the best way possible, especially considering the actual date was shadowed with so much unease considering the significance of the date to Indigenous Australians. Tomorrow, for our community, we’d be spending it supporting our town, its occupants, and stepping up to make sure everyone was safe.
Everyone mucking in together seemed significant somehow, and despite being tired, despite wishing the day would be over already and still waiting to see if it was safe to travel to Ross’s, I was where I should be.
“Bloody hell.”
Craig’s exclamation startled me and drew my attention to the scene ahead. My brows shot high, and Sandra’s “Fuck” had me nodding in absolute agreement.
Once parked, we clambered out of the truck, our eyes taking in the mayhem before us.
Ankle-deep water spilled over the road, the usually shallow creek a good three feet high based on the multitude of cows converging in and around the area. The kicker was, at least seven of the cows weren’t simply splashing around having a good time.
The bellowing was loud. I winced at the noise and the scene, knowing we were going to get wet and muddy. Looking closer at the creek, I counted the seconds it took a small twig to travel from one point to another about five metres away.
The muddy water wasn’t travelling too fast, which offered some relief.
But it looked like those mud-splattered cows mooing their damn heads off were stuck good and tight. Meanwhile, the bloke on the other side of the creek was alone and trying his hardest to push those cows not trapped away and towards an open gate about twenty metres or so away. Part of the fence was down, creating a gaping hole where I expected the cows would happily become escape artists again given a chance.
“Let me head on over and see what’s what.”
We nodded at Sandra, Lee joining her to cross the flooded road while Craig and I watched on.
“I don’t suppose we have waders in the truck?”
I snorted and shook my head at Craig.
