Tj Gordon

Camp dog, sea dog

I was 6 months old when I met my best friend. He was around 6 months old too. A small brown bundle of energy, with more personality than one could expect from a man who had lived a hundred lifetimes. From day 1 we were inseparable. Wherever I went there he was, following closely behind. A watchful eye on a mischievous child. He was a Dingo, although my family fondly referred to him as a 'camp dog' due to the unkind stigma society created against the breed. We rescued him from a shelter in a small town in North-western Australia. His name was Digger.