A Tale from Down Under

A Tale from Down Under

"Jip" started life being owned by a young man who wanted to be seen as fashionable and drive around town with a Staffordshire Bull Terrier sitting in the front passenger seat of his car. As the young dog grew and the fashion disappeared, the young man decided that he no longer needed or indeed wanted the young dog.
At two years old "Jip" was fortunate enough to come into the hands of my uncle Jimmy, who wanted to offer the youngster a home and the chance to live his life on the family farm, which was situated in an area of Sydney called the 'Blue Mountains'.

I first met "Jip" back in 1990, on my first visit to Australia and my uncles farm. This little dog made such a strong impression on me, as I witnessed his battle to be the dominant male over the family's other dog, a red cattle dog called "Ned". The fight between the two seemed to last for hours, but in reality lasted no more than 15 minutes. Once the point had been made we stepped in to separate the two dogs, knowing that not to do so would result in serious injury or even death of one or both dogs.

An uneasy peace prevailed between the two, and they would go about their business acting as a double-act and an unstoppable tag team. Between them they made a point of setting upon and virtually destroying anything that happened to intrude upon their land.

It soon became obvious, that "Jip" was slowly developing into the sort of dog that could be relied upon in any event and would never let you down.

Sometime later, the farm adjoining my uncles purchased a large 'pig' dog, specially bred to catch and hold wild boar. Such was his reputation, that people would travel from all over the Sydney and the New South Wales area, to buy pups sired by this particular 'pig' dog. The dogs name was "Baco" and he was a cross between an American Pit Bull Terrier and a Rhodesian Ridgeback, a very large and a very strong animal. He lived in a corner of the neighbouring farmers field, in a large purpose-built steel run.

Needless to say, it didn't take "Jip" and "Ned" long to realise that there was a new dog in the area, and it was only through careful watching that prevented them from going to seek the newcomer out.It was when a bitch was brought down to be mated with the 'pig' dog that the inevitable happened and then all hell was to break loose.

I had been working a night-shift, when at about 7 o'clock I heard what I thought was a screaming coming from outside. As I rushed out of the door, I could see "Ned" lying in his basket, completely cut to pieces. I looked around for "Jip" as I crossed to the injured cattle dog, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen.

We figured out later, that the two dogs had made their way to the other farm and somehow managed to dig their way under the wire of the 'pig' dog's run. The two of them had set about "Baco" in good style, but only "Ned" had the good sense to know why they were beaten and got out while he could, leaving "Jip" to carry on the battle alone.

As we arrived at the farm, "Jip" deep in shock, was being dragged around the run by the bigger dog. Seeing us arrive though, seemed to give him a new lease of life and he attempted to overturn the 20lb deficit that he faced. As I entered the 'pig' dogs run "Baco" released his grip on the smaller dog, though this might well have been through total exhaustion as much as anything.

It took "Jip" a full two weeks to recover from the experience, as well as the excellent care of a local vet. But as soon as he did recover....yes, you guessed it...he went straight back to face his enemy. It was only through the construction of a 'dog-proof' fence that finally prevented him from continuing his crusade against the 'pig' dog.

After leaving Australia to return to the UK, I often wondered about that little Stafford and whether he ever managed to settle the score with the 'pig' dog from the farm next door.

We returned to settle in Australia in 1996, and once again we stayed with my uncle and his family on their farm. "Jip" was beginning to look old, with bad legs, not many good teeth, and well !....you all know the story.

The farmer next door now kept goats in a really big way...and "Jip" hates goats with a passion. It wasn't long before a really big Billy gave the little Stafford some really good sport. The goat made the mistake of sticking his head up against the fence, and quick as you like "Jip" seized its nose with his few remaining teeth and attempted to drag the unfortunate animal through the mesh. Needless to say, the goat was in real pain as the wire dug deeper and deeper into its skin. Despite our best efforts, we couldn't get him to leave the animal alone in time to save it. By the time it dawned on him to release his grip, it was already too late for the poor old goat. The farmer who owned the goat was livid, not so much about the goat itself, but about the money that he stood to lose on it. That matter settled though, it took a another new fence to stop "Jip" from getting anywhere near the others. It was amazing that a dog, which was now eight years of age, could continue to be so much trouble.

"Jip" has been the proud father to four litters, most of which have inherited his characteristics and temperament. This little dog will not lie down, despite his advancing years. We were visited recently by friends, with their new dog. The first one there was "Jip" trying his best to get through the wire fencing. He was totally unaware of moving his nose away from the lips on the wire, such was his desire to get through to the newcomer that was on his property. In the end I had to pick him up, in order to stop him from damaging himself further. Such as he is though, he won't leave anything alone that he considers to be his business. At a time when many dogs are taking it easy, this little Staffie refuses to, but just keeps on trying and trying....

Let's hope that people breed more of this kind of dog, one that won't lie down, no matter what ! As with most 'fighters' this little dog has the scars to prove his honours and he wears them with great pride. He certainly couldn't be called a pretty dog, but who would want to swap him for something that looks the part, but lacks the heart. Not me, that's for sure.


Tom Walls and Ch.Buller