I was asking for trouble they day I christened our dog Thelma Louise. Now she always had a touch of attitude, but a trip to the tip shop, finally gave her the chance to relive the final scene of her movie namesake.
At the time I did have a little tip shop addiction problem, but oh the creative potential of so many treasures. TL and I had done a big supermarket shop, including a good stock up for the fridge and freezer and being a warm day the wise choice would have been to go straight home. But what if that day I missed the bargain of lifetime by worrying over a little food health and safety issue. A quick look won't hurt. I parked the car, well in hindsight stopped the car might be a little more accurate. To expedite a quick visit I commanded Thelma to stay in the car and dove into the treasure trove of trash.
A quick perusal assured me that this was not my lucky day, surely a sign to get back in the car and drive away. Obviously that is what someone without addictive tendencies may have done, but only fifty metres away was the wood stack. This free for the taking pile of timber had often provided me with framing material for my paintings or pieces for my carved artwork. It also supplied nearly all the materials for the rebuilding of our 1860s art studio. Glancing over my shoulder I told TL to stay where she was, but was where she was, just a little closer to me than it should be. No, surely just a trick of the light.
Off I went skirting around the retaining wall (cliff) that separates the shop area from the rather deep rubbish pit. I had just successfully climbed Mt Timberpile when I heard people shouting "Car Car Car". What on earth was going on? Luckily I had a brilliant vantage point to spot the action. It appeared that my dear old station wagon was being driven towards the cliff by a bemused Pomeranian. My brain went into overdrive...Was the car insured? How will I explain this one to Delightful Dave? There goes the shopping! And finally clarity! I must save Thelma Louise!
Leaping down the pile with little regard for tetanus or splinters, I started to run. I felt a lot like the Six Million Dollar Man who apparently was moving quite fast while appearing to run in slow motion. Theeeeeelllllmmmaaa I'm coming. At this point, I should have formed a plan. Crikey I was running, the novelty of that wiped all intelligent thought from my mind. Not to mention being aware, that between us Thelma Louise and I were creating quite a scene. There was I running in panic, this new form of exercise possibly looked like a baby giraffe taking its first steps in a field of marbles. While I was making my ungainly approach Thelma had moved to the open drivers door window and was considering a leap before the car took to the air over the cliff.
It was time for intelligent decisive action. Yeh sure! At this point I'm give the excuse that my brain was a little oxygen deprived and the endorphins pumping around my body were getting me a little high. There was only one course of action. I ran in front of the fast moving car ( yes in hindsight this too could have been considered foolish) screamed at TL to get over, wrenched open the door and leapt in. Whack the frame of the car smashed into my hip, "far out" that hurt. I slammed on the brakes . We were stopped, metres from the edge of the cliff that would have been the death of the mighty Wagon and a dangerous reenactment scene for Thelma Louise. My canine companion looked up at me, a small smile graced her lips and then I swear she winked at me. To this day I wonder what part human stupidity and what part canine cunning played in this cliffhanging saga. What I do know is that people were heading towards us at the tip, we were not hanging around to answer difficult questions, a quick three point turn, a wave to our audience and we were out of there. Unlike our movie heroines the adventures of Pete and Thelma Louise were only just beginning.