Toby dog was Dad’s dog. Absolutely no good in the yards or close quarters like Diddums was..Toby would hang out wide. Great for the scrub, or a biggish paddock. Trouble was, Toby didn’t handle getting yelled at..and Dad had this ..short fuse I guess you’d say. didn’t take much to set him off..was always tearing strips off us all. So, here we are out in the scrub. Me with trailbike cum Hari Kari machine, Dad..and Toby. Toby, I forgot to say, couldn’t resist a Bennets…Wallaby. Disturb one, and that’d be that. Toby goes completely the wrong way, gets yelled at, and promptly disappears. Just as well the bike and mygood self were there. We had just recovered from a Bennets..urowrw urowrw urowrw off into the distance..tall tussocks everywhere..Toby would jump up to see where the wallaby was..and it’d do the same a second or so later. Toby! Toby! Toby!..didn’t help matters at all.. Well, all quiet. Dad sees all the sheep I’ve found, momentarily forgets about Toby..who unwisely pokes his head around the corner of the landrover where he’d been hiding. Toby! uh oh…too late, pooch, you been spotted.