Last night I headed to “The Shed” for a weight training session to round-off the rowing I did at silly o’clock that morning.

And I look forward to any training session in the early evening, when I can crank up the iPod and lose myself for a while.

 However, the session took a 180 degree turn-about just as I was putting the key in “The Shed” door, literally. Janet, my wonderful partner, took a call from a close girlfriend who lives nearby.

“Janet, Macci is stuck under the house and he can’t get out; the children are distressed, Macci’s distressed, I’m distressed – help!”

Our friend, we’ll just call her Kimbalee, was wondering whether to call the fire-brigade to come and do a rescue, but thought to ring for advice first and to see if I could help…

I was happy to help, after all Macci knew me, and, well, I could pretend I was a fiery as I sped towards her house in my fire-engine red Landrover Defender, aptly named, “Red Rover”.

After all, firemen regularly do this sort of stuff, right?

 It was a win-win situation…this was gunna be fun!

Strewth, he was stuck all right.

I spent some time working out how I would navigate my way through and over the air-conditioning ducts and through the small openings in the brick work.

I mean, if Macci was having trouble how in hell would I get through, I thought…

There it was in my mind’s eye, a vision of the fierys’ turning up to rescue a Lagotto Romagnolo named Macci, and some yobbo pretending to be a fiery with a pretend fire truck parked out front…

The embarrassment of it all…

Crikey, Bluey and the boys down at the Rugby Club would have a field day with it.

I could just see it, everytime a fire-engine went past with sirens sounding they’d be joking it was on its way to “pick Baz up”.

Nah, there was no doubting, I couldn’t mess this rescue up, far too much at stake.

And then, of course, there was Macci to consider!

After crawling the length of the building, through small openings, over the house’s heating system, with little room to spare between the dusty ground and the floor above, I eventually found him.

 Hallelujah, I wouldn’t be a laughing stock down at the club after all Macci was safe!

My new found euphoria didn’t last long!

He just sits there and looks at me, just out of arm’s reach. 

His demeanor suggested he was concerned I’d also been caught out playing in this underground labyrinth, an underground cesspit that might end up being our final resting place; our tomb.

For crying out loud, didn’t the bloody drongo realise I was his salvation?

Okay, perhaps if I was a 15-kilogram something animal, being pursued by a 95-kilo something bigger animal, in a scene straight out of an Indiana Jones movie, I might also be just a little hesitant…

But strewth, I wasn’t in here chasing some rat that had long ago exited the building and was now feasting from the neighbour’s garbage bin.

 I was the pretend fiery rescuer here to save him…

They say dogs have good hearing, so I suspect he heard what I called him even if it was  under my breath!

After all, I was cautious to whisper the profanities that were spewing from my mouth as the children were following my progress standing on the floorboards just inches above my head…

 Macci learnt some new words last night, but hey, I think we forged a new bond.

 Well, that is what I thought anyway.

After much coaxing I got him through a small hole and pushed him in the direction he needed to go…

He sprinted out into the children’s anxious arms, reunited, safe, like the prodigal son coming home…

I spent another 10 minutes negotiating my way, torch fading, worrying how many funnel web spiders were within striking distance. We’re heading into their mating season and they’d be none-to-happy with this intrusion to their love-making…

 “G’day Macci” I said as I extracted myself from under the house, my best army fatigues covered in dust and dirt.

Stone the bloody crows…the little mongrel affectionate family pet just looks at me with disinterest.

Kind a like… “You again, I thought you were stuck somewhere under the house like me”…

 “Glad your safe Macci” I thought. At least Bluey and the boys won’t have anything to hang-on me…well not on account of this occassion anyway.

By the time I got home I was amped up for my training session, even if it was a couple of hours later than planned. And those Bose speakers rang out Black Sabbath like there was no tomorrow!

 “Macci”, you owe me a beer – big time. And by-the-way, no offence intended mate, it was all said in the heat of the moment!