Sebastian’s condition remains poor

Day: 250-253 Stage three / total expedition days 641-644

Sunrise:
05:30

Sunset:
18:48

Total kilometers:
6897 km

Temperature - Day (maximum):
35°/39 degrees, sun approx. 48/52°

Temperature - Night:
24°

Latitude:
23°22'32.9"

Longitude:
150°24'01.3"

Paradise Lagoons-Camp – 22.01.2003 – 24.01.2003

To see how our patients are doing, we drive to the enclosure as soon as we get up. Sebastian sits in the shade of the only tree. His head is lying on the floor and he looks at us sadly from his sunken eyes. “I think the penicillin injections are helping him,” I say quietly. “Do you think so?” Tanja asks in a hopeful voice. “I think so. At least he’s no longer dripping from his mouth,’ I reply, opening his lips to look down his throat. “He smells really bad. The poison or whatever it is has completely paralyzed his stomach,” I say, stroking our brave lead camel’s nose lovingly. “I just can’t get my head around it. He has survived so many dangers and now he gets deathly ill 70 kilometers before the finish. That simply can’t be true? He and we don’t deserve this,” says Tanja, deeply saddened. I look at her and watch as a few tears roll down her cheeks. My stomach tightens at the thought of Sebastian leaving us here forever. My thoughts are racing and I can’t understand why we are being put to such a test now, just a millimeter before the end of this great expedition. How long should we wait here? Should we walk the last few kilometers without Sebastian? Who will be able to assume his leadership role? Are any of the other boys suitable for leading the caravan through a busy city without freaking out? Is it too risky to march through Rockhampton with an inexperienced lead camel? What happens if an accident occurs? When the caravan suddenly passes through and jumps into a passing road train or car? Can we take responsibility for this? Is the success of our expedition at risk? And what an end to an expedition trip it would be if our lead camel died now? Completely dejected, I sink to the floor and look into Sebastian’s questioning eyes.

After a while I pull myself together again and give him the three injections. Peter the vet will be visiting his patient again this evening. Dejected, we then leave our loyal comrades and drive back to our accommodation in an old discarded truck.

The next few days pass without change. With great difficulty, we manage to feed Sebastian three carrots a day. He refuses water completely. Nevertheless, our lives go on. In the meantime, we are back in contact with Magaret and Greg. Thank goodness they are still interested in Sebastian and Hardie and our equipment. While Tanja is busy putting together the equipment, I give interviews, call back the camel buyers who have contacted us and take care of planning the next running days. As Sebastian’s condition remains poor despite the injections, we decide not to take him to the coast under any circumstances. We will leave him behind with Jasper and possibly even Edgar. In this way, he is not alone. Although this decision is painful, it also has a good side. If we only go on with three camels, the risk is reduced for all of us. The camel train is then only 12 meters long instead of 24 meters, making it more manageable and easier to control. We will also use the coming Sunday to walk our animals through the city. We are convinced that there will be significantly less traffic on a Sunday morning than on a weekday.

On one of the balmy evenings, I stand under the mighty tree and look out over the moonlit lagoon. Rufus dozes under Hardie’s saddle. Only his tail tells me that he has made himself comfortable down there. Suddenly I feel a spark of curiosity flash through me again. I wonder if he has written a new entry in his diary. “Why shouldn’t I take the opportunity to look for it? I think to myself. I creep quietly around the saddles to find his well-kept little book. I look in every saddlebag, bend down to take a look under the saddles and, as always, can’t find it straight away. As I kneel down in front of Jafar’s saddle, I suddenly feel that I am not alone. An unpleasant feeling runs down my spine, as if someone is watching me. I turn around very slowly. Startled, I look directly into two eyes. They are Rufus’ eyes looking at me suspiciously. “Oh, it’s you Rufus,” I say, deeply shocked to have been caught out by him. “I was just having a little look around. You know, I just wanted to know if I’d left our radio there under the saddle,” I fib. “Woof, woof?” he seems to ask me. So that he doesn’t notice the blush on my face, I turn my back on him and walk to the wrestlers’ house. Disappointed and annoyed at having been caught by him, I climb the stairs to the house. As I walk up, my gaze falls on our campsite under the tree. I can’t believe it when I see the little book lying down there on the root of the tree. A small, chewed pencil lies next to it. Apparently Rufus was working on his notes just a few minutes ago. I immediately stride back down the stairs and sneak back to our camp. Rufus is back under his saddle. I slowly sit down next to the diary on the tree roots and pick it up.

THE EXPEDITION DIARY OF AN EXPEDITION DOG NAME RUFUS

When we arrived at Cooroorah Station, at first I thought I had entered a paradise. Everything around us was lush green and people admired me as I rode up like a knight on Hardie. When I also saw Mindi, a feast for the eyes, there was no doubt that I could absolutely live according to Buddhist wisdom in the here and now. We both raced straight to the lagoon like madmen and romped and played in the water. When we had completely exhausted ourselves, I wanted to see how my humans were doing. We jetted through the garden together to look for them. They were all sitting on the terrace, eating and chatting animatedly. Of course I wanted to get a few cuddles straight away.

It’s not the first time that a dog has turned into a fury in front of me. In this case I was particularly shocked when Mindi suddenly bit me. An experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. It took me a few days to recover from this scare. Mindi made it very clear to me that I had no say in her territory. When Tanja and Denis called me, she also came running straight away. She acted as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Believe it or not, I could only choke down my food in the presence of Tanja or Denis. As soon as my humans turned their backs on Mindi, she chased me away from my bowl and stole everything I had been looking forward to all day. The only thing that was fun with this moody dog was going swimming. Otherwise, I fared best when I kept very quiet.

Soon the time had come again. We said goodbye to Cooroorah Farm and its friendly inhabitants. I wasn’t sorry to leave this place behind because of Mindi.

I was looking forward to new adventures. Unfortunately, the time also began when we all had to be afraid of poisoned dingo bait. Nevertheless, there was a great energy in the air as we felt the proximity of our destination, Paradise Lagoons. The running days were very exhausting and especially on the last day we found it really awful to fight our way through all the suburban chaos. There were lots of people admiring my riding skills and constantly taking photos of me, but some of the drivers were passing us far too closely for my liking. When we arrived, Sebastian looked particularly tired. The next day he also became really ill.

I spend the free time I have here under a nice big tree. Our tent is here and all the camel saddles are lined up in a row. I prefer to make myself comfortable under Hardie’s saddle at the hottest time. As I dozed off, thinking of nothing bad, the horror struck out of the blue. A large dog came out of nowhere and attacked me without warning. His wide open mouth was all I could see. I immediately started crying terribly. Thank God there was a girl who had the presence of mind to hit the dangerous beast with a stick. Tanja also came running, shouting loudly, to free me from the clutches of my tormentor. I finally got a little sense of security back. Boy, boy, that guy shaved off some of my hair.

Sometimes it’s a dangerous life as an expedition dog…