Obituary: Angus J.R.

Angus the Jack Russell terrier, has died at the (estimated) age of 12. Angus lived the original rock and roll lifestyle. He came from a broken home, lived hard and fast, and died from the diseases of excess.

Angus came to Chris' Mum and Dad's house when he was around 6 months old. His previous owners were a couple with a young boy. Unlike his wife Angus' first Dad was not accustomed to living with dogs, and had mis-treated him. We always assumed this was the reason for Angus' neurotic mentality. However his first family helped mould him in other, more positive ways. Their son constantly played fetch using a tennis ball, and tennis balls were the true love of Angus' life. No ball, no matter how high the quality, was immune from a swift reduction into spitty tid-bits of rubber, which Angus would then fail to differentiate from a whole ball, demanding the game of fetch continue. What's more no walk in the garden was complete without Angus barking up a tree where he sensed the presence of a long lost tennis ball. He was right 100% of the time, and because we couldn't see what he could smell and would tire of his barking, we came to the point where we would throw him into the tree so he could find the ball himself.



Angus' mentality and mood were set almost from the day he arrived at Hollies Crescent. He was intensely focused on whatever gripped him at the time and he would not be distracted. He would stare at a ball with such concentration that he would be quivering in anticipation of the forthcoming chase. Similarly when he was resting he wouldn't shy away from using basic dog agression to discourage interuption. If there was one thing Angus loved almost as much as tennis balls it was luxury. Special locks had to be installed to keep him out of the lounge at night after the barricade of furniture proved insufficient. He saw no reason why he shouldn't sleep on the couches and cushions the people enjoyed, and it was this that was fundamental to Angus' way of thinking. As far as he was concerned he was an equal, if not a superior to anyone else in the house. It was probably because of this that Angus and I developed a very special relationship. I treated him like a dog, and he didn't like it. But secretly I think he felt a sense of comfort in knowing that there was someone else in the pack who was stronger than him, and who would ultimately protect him should the possums come seeking revenge.



When you took Angus for a walk you never knew what would happen. Angus lived for the moment; few walks in the bush were safe from him disappearing to harass and ultimately kill a possum. On such occasions the back gate would have to be left ajar for him and he would arrive back the next morning with fur in his teeth and his eyes swollen shut. He would sleep for a whole day before returning to form, ready to start all over again. This was terrier heaven, it was time well spent. Perhaps his finest hour, and Dad's worst, was Boxing Day 1999. We went to Makara Beach to the west of Wellington. Angus, upon being released from the lead, took off and searched all the sea cliffs for anything and everything interesting over the course of a few hours. Heads turned, jaws dropped, and people stared at the little white dot moving all along the cliff face. Dad's voice, increasingly irate, echoed out to sea. Eventually, as always, when he was ready Angus returned to us, oblivious to the scene he had created. Because he didn't understand the human concepts of right, wrong and discipline, we knew it was pointless telling him off. He just lay down in the sun and went to sleep.



Utimately Angus' lifestyle caught up on him. He developed arthritis which slowed him down and suddenly he was only interested in chasing the ball once, so he could destroy it. Strangely his jaw seemed unafflicted by his condition. Recently his arthritis had deteriorated noticably, and the most recent test results showed advanced cancer of the liver and bowel. Angus was put to rest on the afternoon of the 24th of November 2005.

When you leave your home behind and say goodbye to what you cherish, you can almost be sure that someone you care about won't be there when you return. Vonny and I both thought it might be Angus, and unfortunately we were right. It is however the price you have to pay for living like Angus did; not hesitating forever to think about what might happen, but going ahead and doing what you want with your life. If there was one thing that this little dog could teach us all, it was Carpe Diem . Start getting what you want out of life now, because you never know what tomorrow will bring.

Goodbye Angus, thanks for all the good times and everything you taught us. We'll all miss you.

Chris' Weekend - Axminster Tool Show

This post could alternatively be titled 'monkey gone to heaven' as this was a trip to blokey paradise. On the Saturday, Chris went to the Axminster Tool Show. Axminster is a small village in East Devon that is famous for it's carpets and the tool shop there that supplies the English woodworking community with everything they need via mail order. Fortunately as Axminster as a village hasn't much more than a cricket club for a convention centre, the tool show is held at Westpoint, just up the road from Diana's place. Chris went along as a pilgrimage and came away in awe and wishing he had taken more money.
On display was every type of machine you could want from a small metal-working lathe to some magnificent and suitably priced industrial woodworking machinery. All the bits you see here are for factory use and I'd bet many attendees wished their workshops were slightly bigger so they could take them home (lots of the items on display were stupidly cheap so that they wouldn't have to truck them back to the warehouse at the end of the show).



Everyone from the curious D.I.Y.er to the perfectionist craftsman was catered for. Even when I arrived at midday there were already tattooed builders leaving with new routers and saws under their arms. The creme-de-la-creme of hand tools was at this display from Lie-Nielsen tools. Mr. Lie-Nielsen was there from the U.S.A with his wife and daughter to talk with you about his tools and make no mistake; these are the best money can buy. They come with a price to match the reputation: the saw you can see on the covered bench is a steal at £103 and the big plane closest to you on the other bench is going for over £350! They had a little testing area where you could check them out for yourself. Maybe if I win Lotto...



There were a number of individuals giving demonstrations of their skills and work which were well worth a look. These amazing turnings including vases-within-a-vase (look closely at the back left item for the twin inside it) were really something. The wood used, especially the whitened elm front left, was amazing.



What really stole the show however, was the competition that was being displayed and judged over the weekend. Each item was accompanied with a brief resume of the person who made it and most of them were retired people who simply made these amazing items because they had the time and it brought them satisfaction. Bravo chaps.



The detail on this inlaid table was absolutely amazing, the different colours (more vibrant in the picture above) are provided by different types of wood and I bet like me you can't find a single fault in it. It's not often you see a new heirloom but this has to be one.



The turning and carving was of an equally high calibre. That vase in the centre must have been made of over a hundred pieces, and the burred bowl to the left of it had an amazing copper filler in it. The red tractor in the font of the picture was made by a 9 year old - nice work.



Other cafts such as upholsterers, leadlighters and model makers were represented as well, although to a lesser extent. The Taunton Model Engineers had this great stand with some fantastic working scale models. The traction engine has a working steam engine in it. I don't know about you but I feel guilty for wasting so much of my life watching T.V.



When I first got there I thought I'd be out of there in a couple of hours, but even though it wasn't the biggest show in the world (maybe 3-4 school gymnasiums in size) I kept getting lost and discovering new displays. It was definitely worth the trip to Devon and I'll be going again - this time with more money to spend.



Click Here To Go To The Axminster Website