Category: Puma

Twas a sad day in Petersville but a few short weeks ago. To tell you the truth it’s not until now that I have had the heart to sit down and speak about the passing of Puma.

My baby had served us well. She had taken us across this great land to places most only dream of. She had battled hot dry deserts, cold wet deserts and unbelievably flooded deserts. She had endured the bitter cold of South Australia, stood by us as we negotiated COVID stricken borders, and on the odd occasion, even overtaken quad trailer road trains; admittedly down hill.

Puma was more than a car. She embodied all that is Land Rover. An experience every time we drove her. Be it yet another break down experience or a new rattle experience or just and adventure experience. She was pure Land Rover. Pure Defender. Part of our family. She had heart. She had soul.

But she had to go.

It was with shock to our closest friends that we (Peter) made the decision to sell Puma. Even after the logical explanation as to why, they stood with blank faces, unable to communicate for long seconds. Puma was gone! She had created such an impact, they too, felt the loss.

After our last trip to Western Australia, we realised that Puma simply did not have the grunt to tow our caravan at a reasonable clip without being driven beyond her happy place. We had to work her too hard all of the time. Doing this year after year in remote parts of Australia is asking for trouble. We needed something with more power and torque. Peter’s commitment to the gods of mechanical empathy was simply too strong.

Puma has gone to a new home. A young family who love Defender’s, love off-roading and fell head over heels for Puma the moment they cast eyes upon her. She has gone to a good home, a loving family and new adventures.

To say we miss her is an understatement. We would have sooner cut off our left arm than see her go, yet life sometimes twists in ways you don’t always plan. It was the right decision. The right painful decision for the time.

Till we meet again.

Funny how things happen. Last September, Puma, the dirty little stop out, went on the hunt for a partner to follow her around. Being the modern adventurer, she started on the internet, swiping right or left or up or down. There were heaps of potentials, mostly over rated, under performing money suckers. Nothing of substance or suitability.

Early October 2020 things changed when Puma found one with class, potential, solid standing and no flashy bits. Affordability was also a selling point. Right, left, up down, who cared. It was a deal.

Come April 2021 the new one was due to come live with us and keep Puma company. Sadly he got cold feet and his attendance was delayed till May 21st. The final day did come however, and Puma got her mate. The internet being the internet though, Puma and ‘it’ had never exchanged names. So a name was needed fast.

Friends, being friends, have a way of helping you out when in need. An Instagram call out had all two suggestion piling in. The winner was a combination of a family nickname and, well I’m buggered if I know what. But, regardless, we will now enjoy the adventures of Puma and G-String!

G-Sting is actually a Zone RV 17 foot base model. It’s all we need, being selected for its build quality, style, price and the fact it will not make Puma work too hard for her money on long hills. The honey moon will be eight weeks in Western Australia very soon.

It’s been a while. We’ve sort of gotten to know one another, but I suppose I haven’t really told you anything about me.

Gidday, I’m Puma. I think I’m a girl!

For the techies out there, I’m a 2009 Landrover Defender 110 wagon in Izmir Blue. My heart beats through a 2.4 litre Ford Duratorque engine, cradled by a ladder frame chassis, held up by skinny tyres, supported by beam axles. I’m about as old fashioned as a modern 4-wheel drive can be. You might, however, be better served thinking of me as a rescue dog, as opposed to a car.

I’m not exactly sure where I was raised, although I do know I was conceived in a large litter in Solihull near Birmingham in England. Maybe I played up as a pup, I’m not sure, but I ended up in a North Ryde in a well know penal colony called New South Wales. From here, the scant records I’ve been able to find, show I had a number attached to my front and back and was sold into a life poor treatment and hard work.

My vaccination certificates show me being taken to the vet on occasion in the Alexandria area of the colony until I was turned three. From there I was whisked off, I think to a new owner, in Western Australia. Here I moved from home to home and from vet to vet. Most of my critical needs were met however there was never any love handed my way. I worked, I drank and I tried to sleep under a shady tree in the stifling heat of WA.

In December 2017 my records vanished. I was unloved, worn out from hard work and ultimately sold to a nasty unscrupulous man in Melbourne.

I will never know why. I will never question why. But……in September 2019 my forever parents found me and bought me on faith. They had never seen me, save a couple of doctored internet pictures. Yet something told them I was the one. G apparently loved the colour of my coat.

I won’t say our beautiful time together started off brilliantly. I vividly remember Peter uttering “what the hell have I done”, as he cast his first glance upon my shabby coat. We stumbled home, I met G, and life in my real home began.

There is no doubt I was sick back then. I hadn’t been washed or vaccinated since I don’t know when. I had the worst case of incontinence. We had to make excuses, for I left a puddle wherever I stood or lay for more than a minute. I had obnoxious body odour. I was doubtless the ugly pooch on the block.

In what was a labour of love, Pete and G set about nursing me back to health. I got washed what seemed a thousand times, to the point where I had not a speck of dust left. I had the most expensive skin revitalisers rubbed into me. First the exfoliating lotions, then the delicious body creams that felt soooo good. They made me look young again. I felt fantastic.

Pete spent countless hours renewing all of my important bits. He bought me new shoes and convinced G I needed multiple day surgeries to bring me back to the way I always knew I could be. I even had some cosmetic enhancements to make me really stand out in a crowd of well-groomed mutts. What’s really great is we’ve found the most caring vets in Redcliffe.

We have been together for well over a year now. Our relationship has blossomed to where we now trust each other to go on long drives and not embarrass the family with puddles on the floor. We’ve been to the Simpson Desert. We’ve climbed sand hills together; we’ve waded for hours in chest deep water and we’ve camped in the middle of nowhere for days on end.

These days I walk with my head held high. Men, young and old, turn their heads in admiration as I stroll on by. Even a few young women have shortened their stride to take in my beauty. Pete is ever present ,presenting nothing more than a knowing smile. We are a team.

So why am I a girl?

I love being pampered. The long spars, the body lotions gently massaged into my coat, the cosmetic enhancements and the looks from the boys, all make me feel so loved.

But more than anything, when times are tough, Pete reassuringly and whispers ‘come on sweetheart, you can do this’.

I’m Puma. I’m a girl in my forever home. Hope to see you soon.

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It’s not until a trip ends you realise just how much ‘stuff’ you can fit into a vehicle and how much ‘stuff’ you may not have needed to fit into a vehicle.

Puma demonstrated the ability to swallow gear like no other vehicle we had ever owned. Being a big rectangular box, packing the beast is deceptively easy. What this meant was that it is equally deceptively easy to pack stuff we just didn’t need.

The unpacked Puma covered almost a complete garage floor. Cleaning each piece took days, not hours. Thank god Peter had a full week after our trip before he had to head back to work.

In one final stumble of our trip, Peter grabbed the partially filled porta-loo from the roof rack of Puma, lost grip and was categorically clobbered on the head by the big black box……..Shit!