Moorabbin. It’s easy to say but hard to spell and even when you know why there are no dogs in Moorabbin you’ll still not be able to spell it.
Once there were lots of dogs in Moorabbin. There were big ones and small ones, long haired and short-haired; clean ones and dirty ones and quite a lot of growly ones.
You’d see lots of them in the daytime and hear lots of them at night. You could see the white ones – and there were quite a few of them - at night when the moon had been switched on but the black ones were just black so you couldn’t see them with or without the moon switched on.
On the other hand you could see the white parts of black and white dogs at night when the moon was switched on. They were funny because if a black and white dog had white markings like a pancake - and lots of them did - then you’d think that instead of a dog you could see a pancake - or lots of pancakes - running around.
Most of them were friendly dogs – even the growly ones – but they used to chase the cats along the streets, around the gardens and up the fences. They also used to try to chase the possums along the streets, around the gardens and up the fences but because the possums were usually high up on the telegraph wires most often the dogs just growled at the possums. The growly dogs were especially good at that.
If a black and white growly dog with pancake markings was trying to chase a possum then what you saw when the moon was switched on was a growly pancake - or even lots of growly pancakes – either chasing possums or growling at possums. Or both. But only when the moon was switched on.
Moorabbin is a very windy place and when the wind winds it growls even more than a growly dog but it never winds at night unless …
Unless you leave your washing on the line at night. And if you ever do that the wind doesn’t just growl more than a growly dog, it howls. And it howls even more than a howly dog [and actually there were never howly dogs in Moorabbin anyway]. And it throws itself around just like a howly dog would if there were any in Moorabbin.
But people didn’t know that until the first time someone left their washing on the line at night. This wasn’t really very odd because there always has to be a first time for everything you know and before the first time … well before the first time there’s a place where no time has been used. [And that reminds me that if anyone says they’ve run out of time just tell them to go back to the first time and then a bit further to just the point before then. That’s where time hasn’t been used so you’ve got all the time you need … ever].
Nowadays everybody who lives in Moorabbin knows that if you put your washing on the line at night the wind will wind and howl and howl until either the washing gets blown off the line or morning comes [which it normally does even in Moorabbin].
But before the first person left their washing on the line at night nobody knew that. Not even the dogs chasing the cats along the streets, around the gardens and up the fences; not the dogs trying to chase the possums along the streets, around the gardens and up the fences; not even the dogs growling at the possums high up on the telegraph wires and last of all not even the growly pancakes. Nobody knew what would happen.
And this is what happened that first time someone left their washing on the line at night.
First the wind blew.
Then it blew harder.
Then it growled [only a bit because it really doesn’t growl in Moorabbin it howls].
Then it growled harder [only a bit more because it really doesn’t growl in Moorabbin it howls, remember].
Then it howled.
Then it howled harder.
And then…
Well after quite a bit of then the wind finally blew the washing off the line.
And the wind stopped.
It stopped howling. It stopped growling [which it wasn’t doing much of anyway because the wind doesn’t growl in Moorabbin it howls].
It stopped blowing
And where was the washing?
Well it was everywhere.
It was on the streets. It was on the gardens. It was on the fences. It was even on the telegraph wires.
It was everywhere that the dogs chased the cats.
It was everywhere that the dogs tried to chase the possums
It was everywhere that the dogs just growled at the possums
But it was even on the dogs. And it was even on the growly pancakes [which were still around even though by now the moon had been switched off].
There were dogs with sheets on. There were dogs with jumpers on. There were dogs with towels on. There were dogs with socks on.
But there was one dog – a black and white growly pancake dog called Lucy – who had a pair of ladies knickers on.
Lucy was so embarrassed and all the other dogs were so embarrassed for her that they all ran away to Tasmania.
And no dogs ever came back to Moorabbin. Ever.
PS. I forgot to explain why the dogs didn’t come back to Moorabbin.
You see what happened is that when they realised they were embarrassed [and they knew that because they had this sort of wet seawater feeling - both warm and cold at the same time - all over them] they ran and ran and ran until they’d left the embarrassment behind them.
It took quite some running so that by the time they’d left their embarrassment behind they’d run a very very long way.
They knew when they’d left their embarrassment behind because they no longer had that wet seawater feeling - both warm and cold at the same time - all over them and also because when they looked behind them they saw hundreds of puddles of embarrassment where they had been running. The embarrassment had just fallen off them and collected in the space between Moorabbin and Tasmania.
As they watched the puddles of embarrassment formed a big pool. Gradually this became a very big pool. In fact it became such a big pool that it was really like a sea. The dogs stood on the edge of that pool-like-a-sea and realised that Moorrabbin was a long long way away and across a big stretch of water and they’d have to think very hard and for a long time to know how to get back.
In the meantime they decided to give that big stretch of water a name. That was so they could remember what they were having to think about very hard and for a long time.
Because the dogs had run in a straight line from Moorabbin to Tasmania and because it was made of puddles of embarrassment, they called that big stretch of water Embarrassment Straight.
Actually they called it Embass Straight because dogs have difficulty saying Embarrassment. Also because they couldn’t spell very well [I’ve yet to meet even one dog who can spell very well] it became known as Embass Strate. Later on it became Bass Strait - which is what it is called today – for the same reasons. Embass is quite hard for many dogs to say and some even have difficulty with Bass. All dogs can say straight as you know but none can spell it.
If you stand on the edge of Tasmania you’ll see some of those dogs – or the children of the children of those dogs - baying out across Bass Strait. That means they are either thinking very hard and for a long time to know how to get back to Moorabbin or they are remembering what they should be thinking about very hard and for a long time.
And that’s why the dogs didn’t come back to Moorabbin. [Or haven’t yet].
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