• Rottnest Island and the native animal, the quokka, that's only found there •
"Remember the time we met Rocky?" Brodie would always ask me, years after the incident.
"Yes," I would reply, a sour look on my face. "How can I forget? You remind me all the time."
With an annoying grin he would persist, "Remember how we found Smalls and how much fun we had with him?"
I may have forgotten to mention before that we had a dog called Smalls. Well, we didn't actually have him at the time. We found him after Christmas when we went on our annual summer holiday trip to the isle of Rottnest.
Australia is an island itself but it also has lots of smaller ones around it. One of Dad's favourites to go too was Rottnest - a small island with the best snorkelling spots, an impressive-looking lighthouse, and white cottages that looked like they had been cut out of a picture from Greece.
Rottnest had no actual roads and you weren't allowed to bring your car. In fact, I think it was quite impossible too because the only way to get there was by a bright red, double-decker passenger boat and there was no way you could fit a car on that! Or, if you were lucky enough to own your own boat, you could dock right off the shore so it wasn't uncommon to see lots of boats bobbing up and down on the crystal blue waves.
To get from one place to another, you had to ride bikes. They had a mini bus for all the older people - or the lazy ones - and it would toot its little horn at us as it rumbled down the tiny dirt tracks that criss-crossed the island.
There were shops there too and cafes, even an old Catholic church. A fancy hotel was right by the water and there was a restaurant and a bar. We didn't go there. That was for all the rich people who could afford it.
Instead, we always stayed at the other end of the island in the little white Greek houses nestled beneath the lighthouse right next to the beach - glorious and blue.
Auntie Barb, Sam, Juli, and Ren would stay next door to us. They didn't always come but this year they did – which Brodie and I were extremely happy about. Sometimes even Uncle Tom and Auntie Di would come too.
Grandma would always come. She would stay with us but she would always have her own room. She wanted her own space you see. She loved Rottnest. She used to take Dad there all the time when he was little. Every night we would climb up to the lighthouse and watch the sunset. Then, while we munched on pizza slices or sausage rolls, Grandma would tell us all about Dad's adventures and how cool he had been.
Brodie and I reckon we would be great friends with Dad if we knew him at our age. He sounded like a fun person to play with.
Another marvel of Rottnest were its native animals – the quokkas. They were cute and round and furry and had big buck-teeth. They were protected by a bunch of laws so nobody could harm them. They were allowed to roam free all over the island and they were very friendly. It wasn't uncommon to find one or several inside a café or shop. They would come right up to you and eat out of your hand.
They were pretty popular with the tourists. You could always tell which people were the tourists too – because they'd go all silly over the quokkas. They'd crouch down super low on the ground and take heaps of pictures with them. We would always secretly laugh at them and their ridiculous poses. We thought they were idiots.
While most of the adults were out and about in the little township of Rottnest, we kids would bike down the narrow dirt track that wound its way down the hill towards the beach. Our snorkels and towels would be tucked into our bike baskets and our crocs would be in sports mode. Our bucket hats securely on our heads and smears of sunscreen across our faces, we would be ready for a day of fun in the sun.
We would spend all morning swimming and snorkelling and exploring the little rock pools. We would find shells and crabs and bright, colourful fish. We would see an impressive display of coral and seaweed and, if we were lucky, a turtle or two.
When lunch-time rolled around, we would dry off and walk up to the beach café overlooking the sea. We would count our coins – proud prizes from the chores we had done at home – and buy milkshakes and ice-creams and sandwiches. Then, our faces sticky with sugar, we would enjoy the warmth of the sun.
We all loved bike-riding so when we were tired of the beach we would set off and go exploring. We found lots of hidden wonders around Rottnest – sheltered bays, swimming holes, caves – you name it.
Rottnest was filled to the brim with wonder and beauty and we couldn't get enough of it. It was like our own personal playground – any kids dream. We would always especially look forward to our holidays there. Safe to say, it was a bit nicer than riding around the cul-de-sac in Perth.
Anyway, like I said, we went there for our Christmas holiday that year and it was there that we met Rocky.
It was when we went exploring around the coast that we found him, a brown, wrinkled old man whose face and arms looked like they were made of leather. He wore suspenders and a captain's hat and he carried a walking stick. He looked fierce and unfriendly. Lots of tourists had made up stories about him and how he had apparently stolen things and punched people. They were all scared of him. But they were just lies - none of them were true. He was just a big softie who loved dogs and telling stories.
He had a black and white border-collie who followed him around everywhere. Her name was Daisy – after his wife. She wasn't around anymore though, he told us. She had gone to the isle of wonderland.
We didn't know what that meant but by the look on his face, we knew better than to ask.
One evening, as the sun cast long shadows across the island, we kids biked down to the place where he kept his boat – in a secluded little bay on the west side of the island. And when I say 'we kids' I mean Brodie, Sam, Juli, Ren, and myself.
Sam and I would always be further ahead because we were bigger and could ride faster but we had to slow down occasionally and make sure we could still see the others. According to Mum, they were 'our responsibility' and we had to take care of them – as annoying as that was.
Well, we eventually got down to where Rocky's boat was. He and Daisy would usually sit on the beach next to their campfire with a billy tin of tea hot and ready for drinking. But, as we ditched our bikes on the sand and walked over, he and Daisy were nowhere to be seen.
"Rocky?" I called out uncertainly. "Daisy! Where are you?"
Sam looked up towards the cliff towering over us. "Maybe he jumped off."
Brodie snickered.
I frowned and hit him on the arm. "So rude Sam! He would never! Who would take care of Daisy then?"
Sam shrugged. "Dunno but that's what I reckon he's done. Gotten sick with all those stories people say about him. Might have left Daisy to us, you never know."
"Doesn't sound right," I shook my head. "He loves Daisy too much. C'mon, let's find them! They can't be too far."
I started off into the bushes. Sam huffed in annoyance but seeing that he didn't want to left behind with all the babies he followed me.
"Stay here Brodie and look after Juli and Ren!" I yelled over my shoulder. "We'll be back."
Sam and I swatted our way through the thick brush, shouting out Rocky's name.
After a few minutes of searching, it was clear that Rocky and Daisy were long gone.
"Maybe we should go up the cliff and see if we can find his body," Sam stated glumly.
"No!" I shouted, hot tears stinging my eyes. "Rocky's not dead! Stop saying that. He can't be! We have to find him."
Then, there was a faint rustling of leaves and sticks.
"Wait! Can you hear that?" Sam cocked his head to one side. "I think it's Rocky, c'mon!"
I didn't have a chance to respond before Sam plunged deep into the bushes towards the sound, dragging me behind him.
We broke through into a clearing and stumbled, smack-bang, straight into a tall, skinny, bony...
"Rocky!"
He glares down at us. "What do you want? Leave me alone!"
Taken aback of the sternness of his voice, we stand there, speechless and flustered.
"Uh." Sam and I glance at each other. "Are you okay, Rocky?"
Rocky's head droops and his hands drop to his sides. "No. Daisy's gone."
"Gone?" we both exclaim in horror.
"Yeah," he nods sadly. "I woke up this morning and couldn't find her anywhere. I've been searching all day but ... she's ran away. I may never see her again."
I cast a side-glance towards the cliff and shudder. What if Daisy hadn't run off? What if she was stuck or hurt or...
Turning my attention back to Rocky, I say, "We'll help."
Rocky sighs in relief. "Okay but we better split up. We'll cover more ground that way."
We plan to meet back in the clearing in 20 minutes and then all set off to find Daisy.
As soon as Rocky ambles out of view, I seize Sam's arm and say seriously, "I think we better go up the cliff."
"The cliff?" Sam asks incredulously. "But didn't you say..."
"I know what I said!" I cut him off. "But that was about Rocky! This is about Daisy. What if she wondered off and got stuck on the rocks? We better check to be safe."
Sam hesitates and then gives in. "Fine but you go first. I don't like heights."
I roll my eyes. "Whatever."
My confidence dwindled fast when I realised how big the cliff was though. When we reached the very bottom, I had to crane my neck to see the top. As my eyes followed the jagged outline of the cliff, I noticed that it plunged into a dangerous tip that jutted out over the ocean.
I gulped.
But the thought of Daisy being stuck up there, scared and all alone, drove me forward.
With Sam right on my tail, I started to climb. I ignored the shaky feelings in my arms and legs and kept my eyes trained forwards. If I looked down I might freak out and fall, taking Sam with me.
Eventually, one of my hands grabbed onto the top of the cliff. With a relieved sigh, I gripped the ledge tightly and pulled myself up and over the top. For a moment I just lay there flat on my stomach, allowing my muscles a moment to relax.
"Hey! Help me up!" Sam called out from right beneath me.
Snapping back to my senses, I pushed myself up to my knees and gave him a hand, pulling him to safety.
"Geez Louise," he gasped. "That was scary. Daisy better be up here or I'm making you buy all my milkshakes for the rest of the holiday!"
"Fair enough," I shrugged and looked around. "Let's start over there." I pointed to a big rock.
Sam and I got up and started walking. Before we had made it two steps however we heard a whimpering cry sound from behind the rock.
"Daisy?" I breathed as I quickened my pace. I reached the rock and leaned over. I drew back, astonished. "Sam! Get over here!"
"What? What is it?"
"Daisy did run away! But not because she doesn't like Rocky. It was to have her babies!"
And it was true because there, nestled in the cool shade of the rock was Daisy and her litter of brand new puppies.
"We gotta tell Rocky!"
We rushed to the edge of the cliff. If you squinted against the sun, you could just see Rocky's outline on the horizon...wait, there was more than one. Brodie, Juli, and Ren must've left the beach and found him.
"Get his attention! Quick!" Sam started jumping around and waving his arms.
"Rocky! Rocky!" we screamed. "We found her! We found Daisy! And she has puppies!"
And that was how we met Smalls.
Weeks later, when he was big enough to leave his mamma, Rocky took him over to Perth on his boat and gave him to us. He wanted to thank us for finding Daisy and saving the puppies.
We had Smalls for two years. He even came over to Tassie with us. We had so much fun with him.
He had a beautiful black and white coat – just like Daisy – and big, floppy ears. He was such a goofball. We would always muck around with him and laugh at him when he did something silly. He was a good boy. But also a loyal and protective boy. He took care of us when the parents weren't around and he was always there for us to hug when we were sad.
It was heartbreaking for all of us when Smalls died. He had a tumour and the vet had to put him down. Although that bit isn't for a while yet and I still have many stories to tell about Smalls and his other animal friends so I'll leave this for now and come back to it later.
The next time we went to Rottnest, which was right before the big move, we took Smalls and rode down to see Rocky but he, Daisy, and the boat were gone. We searched up and down the beach and only ever found the charcoal remnants of a fire and the billy tin he used for tea.
We never saw Rocky or Daisy again and never knew what happened to them. Smalls proved to be a good reminder though – considering he was the spitting image of his mother.
So that is the story of Rocky and his dog and how, one day, we would see them again on the isle of wonderland.
• AUTHOR'S NOTE •
Hey! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! At the moment, because of my busy schedule, I think I'll only be updating once a week so stay tuned! Thanks for your patience. Just some thoughts about this chapter: I really wanted to tell you guys all about Rottnest – it was a favourite childhood destination for me and I have some really good memories there. It truly is a beautiful place. However, just to be clear, we did not go climbing a cliff to save a dog haha. Far too dangerous. That part is made-up. But we did have a dog called Smalls and he did die because of a tumour. We also never knew an old man called Rocky but we did meet lots of different people on the island so I've sort've mushed all of them into one person and tada – we have Rocky. I didn't have time to go through how we met every single person so decided to go with just one fictional character instead. I hope you enjoyed it either way. I do like discussing a chapter's process with you guys just to get some conversation going. I think it's quite interesting to see how everyone writes so differently and yet you see some amazing results come out of that.
Let me all know what you think of the story so far. Constructive feed back is welcomed and appreciated!
• QUESTION OF THE DAY •
Did you have a favourite childhood pet?