Sophie, Dog Overboard : The Incredible True Adventures of the Castaway Dog (16 page)

Nevertheless, they wonder now how on earth she coped when she landed on Keswick.
What was the first thing Sophie did after dragging herself ashore? Did she sleep for hours? Did she stand at the edge of the gentle waves looking out to the ocean? Did she whine and whimper? Did she howl? Was she so tired she couldn
'
t move or so scared that she forced herself to a rock or a cave to hide and wait for Dave and Jan? When did all her hope of seeing them fade? How aware of time was she—of how many hours she
'
d already been deserted and how many more days she was going to be out there?

Now, washed up on a barely inhabited island with very little meaty wildlife for her to live off—even if she was able to work out how to hunt for her own food—her dog mettle was about to be truly tested. How would her suburban upbringing as a civilized pet and her attachment to the Griffiths fare out here?

With her measured personality and cushy upbringing, she is likely not to have set off on the hunt for food immediately. As with children, a dog's adventurous spirit is often dependent on its sense of security. Without their owners around to offer reassurance, most dogs become anxious in a new environment. In the same way that Sophie tends to take her time to feel completely comfortable around new people, the Griffiths imagine that she would have taken awhile to work out where she was. She'd have let time pass to see what came with it. No doubt her already shrinking stomach, which had been lovingly tended to all her life with two meals a day and many snacks in between, would have been gnawing at her, but it's too easy to imagine that she spent hours, even days looking out to sea for a glimpse of
Honey May
. Lying at the shoreline the way she used to lie on the edge of the pool in the sun, waiting for Jan and Dave to come home.

A few days might have gone by before some version of the new reality set in: a reality in which Sophie was an island dog left to fend for herself. She would certainly have swallowed some seawater while she was swimming, which must have made her throw up. She was lucky the dehydration didn't kill her. If she was over on Connie Bay in the early days, as Jero suspects and Karen's sightings suggest, she was in possibly the only part of the island where there was any real chance of finding water. Connie Bay edges a forest of melaleuca trees. Most of the ground in the forest remains damp
nearly all year round and even after four hot, dry months, there would have been water below the surface. Sophie could have dug a hole to seep the water out. It would have been brackish—a combination of salt and fresh, which is not ideal for hydration—but it would have kept her alive. “It's probably the only place I know of with any water on Keswick Island. She definitely landed in the right bay,” says Jero.

By the end of November, Mike Barnett had seen her trotting down his road early in the morning. It's possible that Sophie wanted to get closer to humans. Perhaps she had come into the residential area to look for Jan and Dave when Mike Barnett saw her. She'd probably have been able to hear the sounds of the building site that started up early every morning, with bulldozers and hammering and obscured sounds of male voices. She must have noticed the planes, too, and possibly even discovered the airstrip, near which she had the standoff with Brian.

By then she was getting skinnier and no doubt thirstier. Incredibly, while these people would have been the solution for her awful hunger, her ravaging thirst and unwanted isolation, it would seem that for Sophie, loyalty was trumping salvation. She might have been terrified and famished, but it would seem that she wasn't about to approach one of these people for help. Sophie had always been friendly with other humans so long as she was with one of the Griffiths, but she was not a dog who lavished her affections on strangers. She was a staunchly one-family dog, and it appears she stayed that way, even when she was fighting for survival. She doesn't seem to have approached the smattering of houses just a brief run away from the beach. As far as anyone can tell, she didn't deign to rummage through bins for fresh scraps and she certainly didn't break down kitchen doors in the middle of the night to get her jaws around the home-cooked food that she must have been able to smell.

Sophie Tucker

Matthew with “Mack,” Jan, Luke and Ellen with “Tina” at Louisa Creek, 1985.

The neighborhood dogs run alongside Dave on the tractor at Louisa Creek, 1985.

Matthew, Luke and Ellen with Sally's puppies, 1983. Matthew holds “Mack.”

Dave at Shelley Beach, NSW, 1963, as seen in the newspaper clipping in Oscar's café.

Sophie as a curious little pup in 2006. Her ears seem bigger than she is.

I don't really like getting my picture taken
, Sophie seems to be thinking.

Dave and a young Sophie play a game with the hose.

Sophie chases a ball in the backyard, 2007.