I saw mum packing her bags and when I saw her sorting out her bang sticks I knew she was going to go to a shoot. She had not said anything to me about this trip, so while she was asleep I snuck into the dining room where her gear was and hid in one of her bags.
The trip to the range was really slow and cold. When I peeked out of the bag I found we were back home, I mean we were back to where I came from - Christchurch, New Zealand. What a surprise this was. It was an even bigger surprise when mum found out that she had smuggled me into New Zealand, but could I let her go to a shoot without me, I don't think so.
Anyway Uncle Plod met us at the airport, oops sorry Uncle Rob the policeman. After he went through the process of getting mums bang sticks sorted he took us to his home for the night. His home was really neat. They have heaps of moo cows so I spent the evening herding them around the farm. They would not let me practice my techniques on the horses. Mum explained to me that a horse kicks far worse that the cows do.
Wednesday dawned later than we were use to, and after we had had breakfast Uncle Rob drove us into the range so mum could do some training; sorry I mean some sighting in. She found Uncle Big Al and Trevor out there playing a well. Mum joined them, and when they were all finished Uncle Big Al brought us home to our motel. After they went, mum left me in charge and walked down to the shops to find us some food. When she got back we had a rest and eventually Bertie arrived, oh yeah, Gran and Grandpa came as well. We spend a nice quiet evening talking, and when the others left mum and me, they let Bertie stay with us, It was great.
Thursday morning again dawned later than what we were use to, but daylight came, and with that the fact we had to roll on out to the range so that mum, Gran and Grandpa could shoot guns. Mum and Gran shot side by side in air and as usual Bertie and I were there to help out. Our help was completing ignored by both of them, and at the end of their struggle they both said they wish they had listened to us. Too late by then as normal.
After that, we had to wait for Grandpa to finish his shooting, then we all went home again. The humans left Bertie and me in charge again, and went off to the shops to do some shopping. When they got home we were already starting to get excited as I had over heard our humans saying that they had to be at the airport by 7.40pm, as that was when dads big bird, sorry aeroplane, was due in. When we got out to the big building we found that dad was going to be late, so we all went up onto the roof to watch his plane come in. It was neat up there as we were allowed to run around till dad's plane landed and we had to go back inside to find him. Dad seemed really excited to see us all waiting and after we found his bags going round in circles we went back to our home away from home for a cuppa.
Friday again turned up far far too soon. Today I had lots to keep me busy. Dad was shooting Free Pistol - with no practice and someone else's pistol. This was going to be a challenge. I need not have worried though, as he really was not even concerned about how he did. He was just happy going around annoying anyone and everyone. He seemed more interested in going to see an old motorbike on Saturday - it must have been something special, as he was even prepared to give up shooting Air pistol. Still Bert and me did our best for Dad & Gran - which was not what you would call wonderful.
Everyone seemed a lot happier at this New Zealand shoot, than what I remember from a couple of years ago - which was really great. The silly bunch of humans I was with still managed to find inspiration from some bottles on the table each evening. Bert and I had a go at them one evening, and boy did we feel happy when we went to sleep. I think there was something wrong with our bed though, as when we woke up the next morning, we did not feel well at all. Dad, Mum, Gran and Granpa all laughed at us. I do not think that was very nice - the bugger's.
Anyway, I had to get Bert prepared to shoot Centrefire. We tried on all the gear, and even found a nice little pistol for him to use - and then those mean bastard humans would not let him shoot - and after all the training I had given him. I think they are all bad sports, and were just so scared of being beaten. Boy, you just wait till we go to Cunnamulla, Auntie Jean will stick up for us and let us beat those dumb arse humans - cause she lets us lick the plates - yuuuuum.
Anyway, off to the range we go. Same story, different day. I think I will start trying a bit of reverse psychology on these stupid buggers. At least the motorbike was really neat to look at. Boy am I looking forward to going out on a motorbike - oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.
The rest of the competition was spent hassling as many people as possible. We even left Uncle Big Al a message on his answer phone - which I am sure he would have been very pleased to get. Even Auntie Tania got into the swing of things and played a subtle little joke on some of her fellow competitors. It had them with their heads in the rulebooks for hours, looking for a rule that did not exist. I can't say what it was yet, because dad says it might come in handy at the Aussie Nationals in Brisbane - give the Greencoats something to debate and consider for many hours, and generally chase their tails for a few days.
When the shoot was over, and the organisers had finished giving out the metal toolboxes - yes, metal toolboxes, it was time for everyone to start heading off home. I was really excited, because I was allowed to go to Bert's place for a holiday for a few weeks. We were allowed to drive the digger, and the grader, and the truck, and the tractor!!!! Yippee, makes the little tractor at home look like a Tonka toy.
Dad will come and see me in a few weeks when the Ranfurly/Naseby club hold its Don't Worry, Be Happy shoot. Until then…….