Mishka and Me and the Bush.

I think it must have been around 1972/3 ...... we lived near a group of mine-dumps.
There were two dams on the property as well as a huge park and open veld. It was a place of heaven, not only for me but my brothers who's youth had preceded mine on this very same meter-age. They would venture forth with their friends and it would be cops and robbers or whatever tickled their fancy. Me, I was always the little squaw. Roaming the open plains (must have been my father's influence when he was alive, always taking us to see the old Westerns). I used to roam so freely, always with Mishka. Due to her size and stature - no-one dared confront me or interfere with my being there alone.
We would run and roll and dance and play and imagine and dream, sing and create as the spirit soared with adventure.

At one stage I even involved a friend to help me build a tree house - so I could run away and live out my dream. But after careful consideration, and calculation of the logistics, abandoned the idea. Alas my dream was gone.

I still feel that same longing in my soul today. Oh if you could have felt it as I did, smelt it as I did - it crawled under my skin and like a underlying fever has haunted my days and nights ever since.

Then one day Mishka took ill, from taking her in the bush daily, she caught tick bite fever. Not only had my dream died - so did the best friend I ever had!