Some look askance when they discover I let my dog inside, then are jaw-droppingly horrified to hear he sleeps on my bed each night.  But if you own a dog, you will understand.  The expression ‘top dog’ didn’t come from nowhere, and one thing dog owners instinctively know, or quickly learn, is that ‘top dog’ doesn’t refer to the human half of the relationship!

 

Since Susie, my wife and life partner of 50 years, died some four years ago, my feisty little border terrier, Blighty, has become my constant companion.  He is my sounding board, my personal trainer who demands a beach walk every day—rain, hail, or shine, and tidal cycles notwithstanding—and, without peer, my best mate, too.

At times frustratingly disobedient, he always seems to sense the moment—just before I am ready to berate him—to become meek and compliant, fix me with his soft-eyed look that clearly says ‘… sorry, I was being a bit naughty, wasn’t I — but I just know you’ll forgive me’, thereby thwarting my exasperation.

Above all, he is playful.  He can’t get enough of ‘play-time’—it’s his obsession during every waking hour.  If I won’t play [spoiler alert: more pleading eyes], he simply invents a game for himself.  The house and garden are literally littered with balls and cotton toys, shredded and tooth-marked from constant attack.  Not content with capture, he seems to attempt a toy-kill as well, rolling endlessly over his favourite orange and blue balls—he has several—in an effort, presumably, to crush them into submission and absorb their scent.  Then, after a moment’s rest, the ball is tossed in the air, pounced on for the umpteenth time, then rolled and crushed all over again.

But when it comes to ball games, Blighty has a blind spot!  After I have thrown the first ball, he fetches it back with undisguised pleasure, then props it, wags frantically, but resolutely refuses to return it any further.  The game suddenly becomes one of ‘keepings off’ as he ensures that he and his precious prize remain just beyond my arthritic reach, defying all my efforts to retrieve it.  Talk about frustrating!  As I jealously watch others on the beach, their dogs obediently returning their balls for another throw and fetch, Blighty flashes a toothy grin, wags his tail in triumph, and stays half a metre out of range.

After hip surgery a couple of years ago, I took my physiotherapist’s advice and bought a grabber [effectively a set of BBQ tongs on an extended stick], which I used only a few times before finding that bending and picking up by hand was both easier and a better exercise.  Aha, I thought, I’ll use the grabber.  That’ll flummox him!  But no such luck.  In a blink, he had added the grabber to his version of the game.

Now, the nifty device sits atop my bins, ready for use when the cockies defeat the latest in the council’s chain of failed devices to solve the cockie problem, and my garbage [or, more often, that of my neighbouring BnB] is strewn across the street on bin night.  Though the Men’s Shed bin aprons have provided a brilliant and final answer, their roll-out is proving agonisingly slow—for reasons I find hard to fathom—and the grabbers will continue to serve their adapted purpose for a while yet.

Meanwhile, Blighty sits on his haunches at a safe distance, ball clamped firmly in his jaws.  I can almost imagine him mentally replacing Margaret Thatcher’s famous line, ‘… this lady’s not for turning’, with a smugly reworded Blighty equivalent: ‘… this ball’s not for taking’.

Later each evening, when Masterchef is done for the night, another Netflix episode has concluded, the fire is dying to embers, and it’s time for bed, Blighty takes a last turn around the garden.  With an adversarial goodnight bark at our resident bushytail possum, he sniffs the succulents, waters them, then comes back inside to leap onto the bed and imperiously take up residence in the best spot.

Adopting a now-familiar expression that brims with innocence yet carries a hint of bravado, he makes his message clear: ‘… It’s OK, Codger, you’ll manage — just fold yourself around me’.  Then, with that thought clearly conveyed—or implied—he settles down for a good night’s rest, while I lie semi-suspended in the air over the side of the bed.

The latter decades of the 19th-century saw an explosion of interest in behavioural science, led by Wundt in Leipzig [widely regarded as ‘the father of experimental psychology’] and Freud in Vienna [whose ‘Interpretation of Dreams’ and theories of the subconscious mind established psychology and psychoanalysis as a specialty—and, incidentally, as a must-have accessory … especially for troubled Americans].  Another of these mind-expanding giants of psychology was Ivan Pavlov, a Russian physiologist who conducted a set of ground-breaking experiments in the 1890s with dogs—work that opened the window onto the behavioural psychology of ‘conditioning’.  By ringing a bell each day at feeding time, his dogs learned to associate the bell with food and would come running at its sound, whether or not food was present.

Blighty constantly reminds me of Pavlov.  Whether at meal times [food], when I am about to go out and reach for my vest [walkies], or when we are walking on the beach and I hold my arm out at a recognised angle [signalling a ‘come to me’ treat]… all are examples of conditioned behaviour that every dog owner [and their dog] will recognise.  Training, conditioning, and cueing—all are taught at puppy school and are central planks of an effective human + dog bond.

But it’s not just dogs that respond to conditioning.  Farmers rely on similar behavioural traits to lead their cows, unbidden, to the milking shed, or to encourage them—or other domesticated animals—to do ‘smart stuff’ like pressing a lever to release food or access their drinking water.  Moreover, we constantly condition ourselves and our children to respond to stimuli that reward or benefit us, such as the wakeful scent of coffee in the morning or familiar logos that make us crave particular foods.

I suspect I could interpret ‘B’s theft of the warm spot on the bed as a conditioned response, but no!  While sheer bloody-mindedness briefly comes to mind, I think it is actually a simple and rather endearing extension of his desire to play, and one I commend him for.  Long live my little mate, for all your playful idiosyncrasies.

John Agar

Feature Writer

A word from the chairman

Hello

Last Sunday, representatives of many Lorne community groups attended a Community Emergency Relief Workshop.  The workshop, prepared and facilitated by our own Carly Stafford and Karen Stribling, also included representatives of Surf Coast Shire (including our three ward councillors), VicPol, CFA and SES (31 people in all).

The purpose of the workshop was to gather what we had collectively learnt from the January floods and to work towards a framework for dealing with emergency events that may occur in the future.  While Lorne was not as badly affected as some of our neighbouring towns in the floods, it quickly became a relief centre with many volunteers jumping into action even before the Shire could martial resources and get to Lorne.  An underlying theme was that events may occur (such as bushfire or road closures) which may prevent outside resources from getting to Lorne in a timely manner.  This means that Lorne needs to have a degree of self-sufficiency and a plan to deal with emergencies until help arrives.

It is understood that this is not a substitute for the role of the Emergency Services, and that any activities would be under the direction and control of the Emergency Services.  The role of the community relief team is to provide shelter, food and comfort to the victims of natural disasters in our town and our vicinity.  The workshop produced a bounty of good ideas which will form the basis of a Community Emergency Relief Plan, including identifying available resources such as people, facilities, equipment and supplies.  Congratulations to all involved and especially to Carly and Karen for their commitment to this important initiative.

******

Driving the Great Ocean Road, and many other country roads, is a game of pothole-dodging!  More than half of the serious road crashes in Victoria happen on regional roads and many occur on roads that have been identified by RACV as high-risk due to their design and crash history.  RACV is conducting a survey to give you the opportunity to have your say about our roads.  Your responses will help RACV better understand which roads are causing the greatest safety concerns and support advocacy for safer road design and investment in improvements.  The survey at  https://racv.research.net/r/My-Country-Road-2026 takes around five minutes to complete and your responses are anonymous.

******

This is a final call for nominations for the 2026 Doug and Mary Stirling Cup.  The Cup is a very important award in the Lorne community, named after two of our most esteemed and respected citizens (and the first recipients of the award).  The award honours outstanding service to, and leadership in, the Lorne community and is awarded biennially.  Nominations are confidential and forms can be obtained from the Visitor Information Centre, Lorne School, the Post Office or online here – https://tinyurl.com/stirlingcup.  The award will be presented at a Committee for Lorne lunch to be held on 30 October 2026.

Please give this opportunity your serious and prompt consideration as nominations for the award close on 30 June 2026.

Cheers

John Higgins

Chairman

Lorne Ward Events Calendar

July

11 Lorne Dolphins Football and Netball V South Colac, at Stribling Reserve, juniors match from 8:45am, seniors at 2pm

25 Lorne Dolphins Football and Netball V Irrewarra-Beeac, at Stribling Reserve, juniors match from 8:45am, seniors at 2pm

 

August

8 Lorne Dolphins Football and Netball V Simpson, at Stribling Reserve, juniors match from 8:45am, seniors at 2pm

15 Surfcoast Wonderfalls Trail Run, Starting at Cumberland River/Lorne from Distances: 6km 14km 25km 42km 52km 75km

22 Lorne Dolphins Football and Netball V Birregurra, at Stribling Reserve, juniors match from 8:45am, seniors at 2pm