Beyond the black stump

Okay, that's an exaggeration. We are only about 40 km from Darwin, house-sitting for colleagues who live in the rural area. It's a 35 minute drive to work every day, rather than a 10 minute walk, but we can manage that for a few weeks.

We are experiencing life in the countryside. The property we're on is about 5 acres. We are looking after three dogs and eight chickens.

Meet the dogs: Pugsley, Daisy and Dougie.

Pugsley is an elderly gentleman, who was rescued a few years ago when his elderly owners were unable to care for him any longer. He has a heart condition, a skin condition and snores dreadfully. He is also very untrusting, but I succeeded (through chicken morsels) in winning him over to some extent. His fledgling trust was shattered when I gave him his first bath. By the time he forgives me, it will be time for his second bath.

Daisy is the princess of the family. She lives for tummy tickles. In fact, we can be trapped into the Eternal Loop of Tummy Tickles unless we are ruthless and ignore the beseeching looks, seductive wiggles and waggy tail. Daisy doesn't really like the doggie door, and would much rather we opened the door for her to go outside. And come back in. And go back out.

Dougie is a Silky Terrier, with his coat clipped short. He's a little toughie, a vermin hunter and an escape artist. In his mind he is five times his actual size. He is obsessed with his soft toys (all pink). When he becomes very excited, he rushes around with a pink toy in his mouth. Ken goes round the garden every evening and collects the toys, much to Doug's outrage.

The dogs are terrified of thunderstorms. During a huge Top End storm, they flung themselves into the car and WOULD. NOT. GET. OUT. Ken came to fetch me after work in a car filled with three wet, trembling, doggy-smelling furbags.

Part 2 of the menagerie: the chickens. I let them out of the coop in the morning and they free range all day, watched over by the horses next door.

I collect about two eggs per day but the chooks are past their egg-laying peak. The owner keeps them simply to give them a good retirement. Chickens don't like the heat, so the tropics is not an environment in which they experience longevity. I started out with nine chickens in my care. Sadly one of them died (the heat! the heat! certainly not from neglect) and so now there are eight. The ninth ex-chicken is in the freezer, on the owner's instructions.

At night I lock them up to keep them away from dingos and pythons. There are stories about how pythons get in to coops, eat a few chickens, and then – fat and lumpy – can't get out. Happily, no pythons yet. But we have found a very handsome green tree frog that lives in the owner's gardening Crocs. The shoes, not the reptiles. The frog also likes a morning dip in one of the dogs' water bowls.

On the subject of chickens, did you know that Darwin has chickens fighting on the front line? Sentinel chickens warn of mosquito-borne diseases. They've been deployed in the Territory for 30 years –- well, not the same birds, presumably. Our very own Norforce chooks!

We're too far out of Darwin for our regular Saturday cycle to East Point, but Ken discovered McMinn's Lagoon nearby, one of the very few billabongs that still has water this late in the Dry season. The bird life is wonderful. We've seen magpie geese, egrets, jabiru storks, lapwings, jacana, ibis and lots of ducks. It's a 2 km cycle around the lagoon – a reward for the bumpy, dusty 8 km cycle along the road to get there.

A little further out is Berry Springs waterhole, about 50 km from Darwin. It was lovely to have some old friends visit from Melbourne, and an opportunity to swim in the waterholes before the Wet season arrives and the pools close.

There are three pools. The middle pool and lower pool are quite large and fairly deep. Next time we go we'll take our pool toys (not pink) – our pool noodle and inflatable tube.

Saltwater crocs are not a problem in this waterhole, but there are lots of fish in the water. They nibble at one's legs. It's a bit alarming until you get used to it.

The top pool is our favourite. For a relatively small waterfall, it creates a surprisingly strong current. You can duck under and behind the waterfall, into a small cave, if you're prepared to be buffeted by the water.

That's me in the white hat, relaxing against a rock with fish nibbling my legs. What a very civilised way to spend a tropical afternoon.