RED DOG OF THE PILBARA
“Red Dog’s overland travels were legendary.”
Possibly the most famous dog in Australia is the one featured in Jack O’ Hagen’s song “The Road to Gundagai,” a sanitised ditty based on an old poem which went …
As I was coming down Conroy’s Gap I heard a maiden cry,
“There goes Bill the Bullocky, he’s bound for Gundagai.
A better poor old bugger never cracked an honest crust,
A better poor old bastard never drug a whip through dust.
His team got bogged at Five Mile Creek, he lashed ‘n swore ‘n cried,
‘If nobby don’t get me outer this, I’ll tattoo his bloody hide.’
But Nobby strained and broke the yoke, poked out the leader’s eye
And the dog sat (or shat) on (or in) the tuckerbox nine miles from Gundagai.”
But another dog in the Pilbara region of West Australia’s rugged north-west became well-known, too – a dog familiar to one and all as Red Dog – earning for himself such a reputation as a colourful canine individualist that his likeness came to be sculpted in stone as a living memorial.
Into this rich mining area was born, in 1971, probably at Paraburdoo, a Kelpie-Cattle Dog cross, who was originally christened “Tally.”
Bristling with infinite energy, this inquisitive little red dog would roam
the countryside at will, sometimes for seven kilometres or so, after which he would gobble down a tin of dog food in nine seconds flat and fart copiously for a long time afterwards. In some quarters (especially confined quarters) this habit made the little red dog socially unpopular.
Red Dog, as he was called, was an inveterate scrounger; he would “bot” food at any backyard barbeque or beach party in the Dampier area, and came to adopt for himself the life of a wanderer, a true canine gypsy and loveable vagabond.
Around the single men’s quarters at the Hammersley Iron mine site, the endearing little mutt made himself at home when it suited him, often spending a day at a time lounging under a table in the workshop.
He befriended a bus driver who did the Dampier and Karratha runs and was often an unofficial passenger on Hammersley Iron’s company buses. This gave Red Dog a distinct advantage over all the other dogs in the locality and he openly flaunted his privileged position by yapping cheekily at his mates as he drove by.
When his bus driver friend was accidentally killed, Red Dog was noticed watching passing traffic for his friend for a long time afterwards.
One day a new driver pushed Red Dog out of his bus. All the Hammersley
workers walked off the job in protest, and the new driver was quickly made
aware of Red Dog’s special status among the workforce.
On any of the buses he travelled with henceforth, the dog always chose the
seat immediately behind the driver; this was clearly his preferred position
and no one was allowed to share the seat with him – well, not unless he was
strongly bribed with a tasty morsel.
On one occasion, after enjoying a generous meal, Red Dog started one of his farting sessions in the bus, causing all passengers to hurriedly depart and
wait outside until the offensive fumes had cleared.
Not only company buses were Red Dog’s preferred form of transport. From time to time he got free rides on courier vehicles and even on long distance transport trucks plying the North-West Coastal Highway.
He was also the only dog in Australia who was a fully paid member of the
Transport Worker’s Union, thanks to his fellow unionists.
He had an unhealthy habit of walking out in front of an approaching vehicle
expecting it to stop for him. If it failed to do so, he would chase it until
the occupants were fully aware of his expectation.
If the driver’s destination was not the same as Red Dogs, he would refuse to
alight from the vehicle and would patiently wait until the car owner had
worked out where he wanted to go.
For example, in 1978, a Karratha woman was picking up her daughter at the Walkabout Motel early one morning when she spotted Red Dog sleeping in the parking area. Being aware of his ways, she held open her door, inviting the mutt to climb aboard, a offer he sleepily accepted.
In the industrial area, , the lady opened the door, but her passenger
refused to budge. She then decided to take him to Dampier, some 20
kilometres away. Again the dog refused to leave her car.
Next she drove him all the way to the Hammersley single men’s quarters; here he happily left the vehicle and trotted away, tail wagging, to socialise
with his fellow unionists at the breakfast table.
One day Red Dog was found with a injury beside the Dampier-Karratha road. He was driven back to the Dampier Salt site where he was given a much-needed bath and his wounds were at the same time washed and disinfected. It was noted by his carers that chocolate seemed to bring about an immediate miraculous cure.
It was about this time that Red Dog was made an official member of the
Dampier Salt Sports and Social Club, a financial member of the Metal Trades
Union, a bank account was opened for him, and he was officially registered
with the shire.
Among his other random achievements were fathering an assorted of mixed-bred puppies in several districts, all of whom bore a striking resemblance to their Dad. Red Dog seemed to prefer Dampier Salt as his occasional home, especially when recuperating from dog fights, love affairs or when he was sick.
Red Dog had a very disrespectful habit in that he often visited a certain
church of a Sunday morning to methodically move down the aisle, giving a token piddle on each of the rows of pews, marking his territory.
“Sometimes he did this when there was preaching going on. I felt sorry for
the poor minister. He always finished cracking up with giggles and couldn’t
continue,” said one of the faithful. “We were always grateful to Red Dog
because it meant we got away early.”
If he tired of a place, or needed stimulation, he simply hitched a ride
somewhere else, preferring always to sit with his head halfway out of a
window enjoying the breeze.
There came a time when Red Dog was found out in the rugged Karratha hills
with two bullet wounds in a rear leg, probably done by a dingo trapper or
pastoralist who noticed him too close to sheep paddocks.
When a message was sent to his mates at Dampier Salt, some immediately
downed tools and went to collect him. They intended to take him to the only
available vet. at Port Hedland. Along the way, the weather being hot, the
travellers got drunk, were taken into custody for the night and were fined
in court. They reckoned later that with all the outlay – court fines,
accommodation, vet’s fees, loss of wages, etc., next time it might be
cheaper to fly in a brain surgeon.
Red Dog’s overland travels were legendary.
Unofficially, he is known to have travelled hundreds of kilometres to places like Roebourne, Point Samson, Port Hedland – and even as far south as Perth on at least two occasions where he was observed enjoying many refreshing dips in the Indian Ocean.
Several well-meaning families tried to adopt him on a permanent basis, but
he never stayed for long anywhere. He was a vagabond at heart, a free spirit, his home the open road under a million stars.
Not that he was ungrateful. Perish the thought. He always made a point of
calling in on old friends to accept dinner invitations and to languish a
while in air-conditioned comfort.
One time Red Dog was arrested by the Dog Catcher at Roebourne and was locked in the pound where he was given treatment for heartworm. At night, unknown persons broke into the premises and set all the dogs free. The culprits were never identified.
Red Dog died at Karratha on November 21, 1979.
He had eaten a lump of meat laced with strychnine. Probaby a dingo bait he discovered out in the bush. When found, he was convulsing regularly. But the vet. was out of town, so the local police took him in and cared for him until the vet. returned. With treatment, he seemed to recuperate at first, then worsened, and he was regretfully put to sleep.
Red Dog was buried alongside the lonely track between Roebourne and Cossack.
A memorial fund was launched and publicised via the media all over West
Australia, a effort which raised $2,600, donations arriving from all over Australia.
A bronze life-sized statue was erected and stands today at the Information
Bay near the entrance to Dampier township.
The inscription reads:
RED DOG
The Pilbara Wanderer
Died November 21st, 1979
Erected By The Many Friends Made During His Travels
I stop to pat that dear old red dog every time I drive into Dampier. Only a dog owner will know the devotion in that stare.
Andy
— Andy Flight · 15 05 2008 - 15:36 · #
There is a book written about this- called “red dog“by Louie de berniere. It’s very good
— Don anderson · 16 09 2008 - 21:48 · #
Does anyone know the name of Red Dog’s original owner?
— Lee · 25 09 2008 - 20:00 · #