The Viking invasion …

The spring and early summer weather in Tasmania has continued to be shocking. A couple of days ago Hobart endured its coldest December day for 50 years and our wood burning oven has been working overtime.  In the midst of all this gloom,  however, there has been a bright spark of delight. This week we welcomed an addition to the family at Cracroft Farm in the form of Knut, our new Maremma puppy. 

Knut

Maremma Sheepdogs originated in Italy and date back at least to ancient Roman times. They are not a herding breed of dog (we have that covered already), but instead they are guardian dogs who are responsible for keeping their flock safe from predators.  While we are unlikely to have to call on any wolf-slaying ability we hope that his rather substantial presence will deter the local fauna from eating our garden plants or stealing our fruit. In addition, we hope that he will keep our chicks safe from aerial attacks by the wedge-tail eagles that soar on the ridges above the farm.

Being introduced to Maverick and Goose

You might surmise that he was named after the Viking invader Knut the Great, King of Denmark, England (as Canute II) and Norway,  who ruled his North Sea Empire from 1016 to 1035. But you would be incorrect. In fact, he was named after the polar bear born in Berlin Zoo in 2006. Rejected at birth by his mother, Knut was raised by the zookeepers and became the first polar bear to survive past infancy at the Berlin Zoo in more than 30 years. At the time his story hit the headlines, our youngest son (who was 4 at the time) had a fluffy white polar bear as his constant companion and it immediately became known as Knut. So when pictures of a tiny white Maremma puppy looking exactly like a polar bear emerged, Knut was the natural name.

Surrounded

Since we named Knut, I have made some amusing discoveries about alternative interpretations of the word. The name is derived from the Old Norse Knútr meaning "knot", but it is the more informal uses that are far more interesting. In Edwardian English a knut is an idle upper-class-man-about-town. This has morphed into a current definition in the Urban Dictionary of the name Knut as meaning cool, handsome and sexy. On the downside, one of our neighbours pointed out that in Dutch slang, knut means “not so bright”! Of course, for those well-versed in Harry Potter lore, the Knut or Bronze-Knut was the least valued coin in the wizarding world. There were 29 Knuts in one silver Sickle and 493 Knuts in one golden Galleon (that has to be a great trivia question!). 

The first bath

While you can choose your favourite take on his name, our Knut is a completely delightful little tyke who will soon grow in to an absolutely enormous one. He is calmer than other puppies we have had but doesn’t take a backward step. Pepper wasn’t too happy about him at first, but his refusal to be cowed by her snapping has started to win her over. They have now started to enjoy each others company and have had some wild playtimes together. The only family member not really convinced that this is a good thing is our elderly cat, Gracie. There has been no thawing in her relationship with the youthful imposter as yet and she steers well clear of him.

The entente cordiale

So if Knut isn't exactly a Viking invasion, why the title of the blog? While we were preparing to welcome Knut, we had a team of arborists visit the farm to clear some silver wattle trees from the top paddock. Silver wattles are an invasive species that are regarded as weeds in some parts of Australia, so we made the decision to reverse the wattle creep on our land and re-populating the area with Tasmanian hardwood trees. While we are completely happy with the result, the paddock looks as a little apocalyptic at the moment, almost as though it has been the victim of a scorched-earth tactic employed by an invading Viking force.

Before

After

The team was here for 4 days and did a mighty job of removing about 30 wattle trees and reducing them to 40 cubic metres of gorgeous wood chip that will benefit the garden enormously. In addition, the trunks of the trees which were too large for chipping are waiting for me to chainsaw them up into rounds and then split them for firewood. This should yield about 2 years’ worth of wood for the log-burning oven which is our main source of heating during winter (and sometimes spring and early summer too).  While silver wattle may not be the best firewood, from a sustainability point of view it would be wasteful not to use it.

Of course, having a new puppy slows the rate of progress down somewhat, so I am yet to tackle this rather substantial task. My main excuse is that I am suffering tiredness brought on by having to recline next to Knut's crate at odd hours during the night. To be fair though, he has been much easier to crate train than Pepper was. I recall many a night at Frank Street in Brisbane lying by her crate and streaming Beethoven's Sixth Symphony in a desperate attempt to get us both to sleep ...