Gee, my holiday in Naseby with Bert has gone so fast. I can hardly believe that it is time to go in the car with Gran and Auntie Linda to go and get Dad. Still, it promises to be a good weekend. We will show everyone how a shoot should be run.
When we got to the Airport in Dunedin, the plane was late as usual. Gran and Linda went and had a drink while they waited for Dad's big bird to arrive. When it did finally arrive, I hid behind Gran, and jumped out and surprised him when he finally got to us. He was really pleased to see me. I can't understand why all the other people at the airport all look at us really funny like - its like they have never seen people making a fuss over me before - boy they must live in their own little world with their heads stuck up where the sun does not shine.
We had a nice drive back to Grans, and then went to bed pretty well as soon as we got there. It did not take very long for the morning to arrive, and everyone was out of bed, showered, dressed and off to the range. Uncle James was already there. He had lots of fires lit in these funny steel containers, that they used to heat the water, and cook the Bacon, Sausages, Tomatoes, Eggs, Toast etc. For the life of me, I cannot understand why they could not just plug something in - after all, there are these huge power pylons running through the land quite near the range, and I am sure the power people would not miss just a little bit of power.
After everyone had been fed and watered, the competition started in earnest. First up was Free pistol. Well sort of Free pistol. They sort of cheated a bit, by using some targets with nice big scoring rings - everyone thought it was a good idea though. Everyone was in a team of 2, and their scores added together - which meant that everyone had a chance of winning something - which as it turned out, was not difficult.
We then went off and shot Centre fire. This seemed to be run to the rules - well for a start anyway. Did not take too long for the big targets to come out again. Everyone seemed really happy about their good performances (just wait till they have to shoot the proper targets, to wipe the smile off their faces). Then it was time for lunch. Boy what a feed.
After lunch was more shooting - Air pistol this time. They actually used the correct targets - although I would have my doubts about where the target frames were placed.
Anyway, Gran took dad off to the holiday house late in the afternoon, so she could check on how dinner was progressing, and for dad to set up the Rika, for some of the locals to have a play on - as they had never seen one in operation before.
Saturday night dinner was another feast - and Bert and me got the bone!!! Yum, Yum, Yum, Yum. Prize giving was had for the days events, and as would be expected, Me and Bert absolutely thrashed all the know it all humans. We are just soooooo goood. We absolutely wiped the floor with the lamebrain carbon based life forms. Man, if we did not need them to look after us, we would rule the world.
Next day dawned absolutely perfect again. This Naseby place is amazing. More Bacon, Sausages, Tomatoes, Eggs, Toast, Coffee and Cereal. It was becoming very obvious, that this was actually a ploy by the locals, to destroy the ability of the competitors to do well - if they could not move, they could not shoot, they could not do well. Didn't work. Locals ate too much as well - ha, ha good job I say.
Todays event started off life as standard pistol. But after the 150-second series, as usual, it turned into another rather alternate type of event. The targets got changed to an NRA type paper target with a large chocolate fish drawn on it - and you received bonus points for hitting the fish - these people are wacko's.
Again, the results seemed to revolve around anyone who had not featured in the results of the other events - as I am sure Me and Bert actually won every event, but only got the recognition in one event. It makes me wonder if it is all worthwhile sometimes - until the next feed time, when I know it is all worthwhile.
As the day drew to a close, everyone pitched in and helped clean up and put everything away. A few dumb arses decided to have a go with Uncle John's .308 pistol. Hell, I thought all the trees were going to fall down when the bloody thing went off. It almost looked like the silly bugger hanging on to it was going to wear it in the face as well - serve him right I say.
Late in the afternoon, Uncle John took dad off to the airport to go back to that shithole called Auckland. I was allowed to stay with Bert for a couple of more days and go back to Brisbane with him and his big people. It is only a few days and I will go and meet dad at the big bird terminal in Brisbane as well. Yeah.