Plus proof that things aren’t always as they seem

A bloody great Aussie Poem

The sun was hot already – it was only 8 o’clock
the cocky took off in his Ute, to go and check his stock.
He drove around the paddocks checking wethers, ewes and lambs,
the float valves in the water troughs, the windmills on the dams.

He stopped and turned a windmill on to fill a water tank
and saw a ewe down in the dam, a few metres from the bank.
“Typical bloody sheep,” he thought, “they have no common sense,
they won’t go through a gateway but they’ll jump a bloody fence.”

The ewe was stuck down in the mud, he knew without a doubt
she’d stay there ’til she carked it if he didn’t get her out.
But when he reached the water’s edge, the startled ewe broke free
and in her haste to get away, began a swimming spree.

He reckoned once her fleece was wet, the weight would drag her down
if he didn’t rescue her, the stupid sod would drown.
Her style was unimpressive, her survival chances slim,
he saw no other option, he would have to take a swim.

He peeled his shirt and singlet off, his trousers, boots and socks
and as he couldn’t stand wet clothes, he also shed his jocks.
He jumped into the water and away that cocky swam
he caught up with her somewhere near the middle of the dam

The ewe was quite evasive, she kept giving him the slip
he tried to grab her sodden fleece but couldn’t get a grip.
At last he got her to the bank and stopped to catch his breath
she showed him little gratitude for saving her from death.

She took off like a Bondi tram around the other side
he swore next time he caught that ewe he’d hang her bloody hide.
Then round and round the dam they ran, although he felt quite puffed
he still thought he could run her down, she must be nearly stuffed.

The local stock rep came along, to pay a call that day,
he knew this bloke was on his own, his wife had gone away.
He didn’t really think he’d get fresh scones for morning tea
but neither was he ready for what he was soon to see.

He rubbed his eyes in disbelief at what came into view
for running down the catchment came this frantic-looking ewe.
And on her heels in hot pursuit and wearing not a stitch
the farmer yelling wildly, “Come back here, you lousy bitch!”

The stock rep didn’t hang around, he took off in his car
the cocky’s reputation has been damaged near and far.
So bear in mind the Work Safe rule when next you check your flocks
spot the hazard, assess the risk and always wear your jocks!


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