Where's Wilby?

Wilby looks across the Tank Farm towards Diamond Harbour on 

February 18, 2011. It's still too dangerous to be on that hill now.

I visit my Border Terrier friend Wilby in Lyttelton as often as I can, and we take strolls together around what is left of the town. We no longer go up the Stan Helms track, which is closed for fear of falling boulders, but stick to the lower streets where things are safer, if not exactly normal. As we were out walking last Friday afternoon we reminisced about his adventures this time last year, when he was staying with me and the first Big Shaking occurred. I will let him go on with the story...

Adventures of Wilby, Terrieriste -  Part the Sixteenth

Is it really a year since I was sent into exile? The Eco Gardener tells me so, and apparently has some arcane way of knowing, so I will take her word for it. I seem to recall that I thought things would be very dull in the country, for an urban creature like myself, and yet of course they were not.

Uncomfortable, yes – dull, no. I would have much preferred to have been snoozing on the end of the Master of Good Hope's bed in the early morning of September 4 one year ago rather than in that drafty shed in the garden, exposed to a hail of small plastic pots when the floor began rumbling and shaking.

Luckily that was the worst of it for me, and has been so far, although I shiver when I think of the dangerous places I have been since, such as the higher tracks above Lyttelton. I am also amazed every time I take a walk and see how much damage has been done quite close to home.

I am glad I was not sunning myself on this neighbourhood verandah when the shaking started on February 22nd.

There are a great many holes in the pavements these days - I have to proceed carefully.

I am keen to go back to the Eco Garden, and see how it is growing, but it seems there is a problem. My rightful place there has been taken for the nonce by one of those unspeakable creatures which some humans unaccountably favour above decent canines. I am told that she is a refugee from Lyttelton, and has required a lot of care, and must not leave the Eco Garden until her regular home is ready for her again. To which I say – pshaw! 

 Oh happy days (and nights) spent on the hearth rug.

 The usurper Jezebella hogs the hearth. What a smug looking beast!

Apparently she caught a mouse and a rat, and was praised for it. Beginners luck, I say. Despite my long vigils by the compost heap I was unable to succeed at rodent hunting, and was mocked for it. Nevertheless, I long to go back and smell the flowers again, and to take the Eco Forester for a walk up the road. If only the place would stop shaking...