Wal’s off-sider and comic heart of the farm, he will take you round the daily goings-on and end the tour beneath the freshly hung carcass in the macrocarpa tree.  Of course he's usually out at work eye-balling sheep, but if not, he might well be in his water-tank kennel or keeping vigil at Jess’s bitches box.

If you've got big boots to fill, ask for the main man, Wallace (Wal’) Footrot.  As the farmer of Footrot Flats and The Dog’s best friend, he is the bloke to turn to if you have any sheep to crutch or a tree to cut down -  though he might be more likely to challenge you to a round of farm golf or a game of cricket in the side paddock.

Wal’s fussy and slightly over-bearing aunty is keeper of the keys and maker of the finest pikelets with jam and cream this side of the black stump.  Apart from having a tendency to want to blab The Dog’s unspeakable name, and doling out dinky-dog bikkies to her indulged corgi, there are worse old birds to have around.

Raupo Township has never had a seductress the likes of the belle of the hair salon.  Blonde, buxom and with a painted pout, there is no-one who makes heads turn at the pie-cart like Ms. Hobson. If her charms are directed anywhere within 180 degrees of Wal’ Footrot, he is helpless.  Hopeless.

If you turn over a fern you will see its silver underside, and if you turn over the hand that turns over the fern, you'll find Cooch Windgrass, lover of head-winds and the only farmer to register blackberry as a protected species.  Hats off to the bean-pole built, humble Cooch, Wal’s best friend and fishing companion.

No-one knows where this legendary tom cat came from, but he likes it here at Footrot Flats. There are fly screens to shred, dog bowls to dominate, eels to snatch from creeks and rats to keep in their place.  All creatures great and small give the scowling Horse a wide berth, lest they get a Zorro mark scratched on their noses.

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Sultry canine charm and the scent of hays-sheds in her pelt, Cooch’s sheep-dog Jess is everything a male dog could want.  Unfortunately for THE Dog, he is not the only canine within coo-ee. Who is the father of those puppies anyway?

Proud and scarred from battles with tuskers, this alpha-male pig-dog has plenty of reason to strut around the yard.  Male rivals yelp and scarper, bitches swoon when the leader of the pack is upwind. Only the Murphy's band of mongrels can raise the hackles on this guy.

Rescued by Cooch this mischievous magpie dives from the sky like a black and white kamikaze, usually toward the brim of Wal’ Footrot’s hat. While many stake their claim on the patch of dirt known as Footrot Flats, there is no argument over who rules the sky above it.  Look out! Here he comes again!

A larrikin in every respect, don't let those pig tails and freckles deceive you, this young lady has attitude AND gum boots that go places. When she teams up with Rangi on school holidays, anything could happen, and usually does.

What Aunt Dolly sees in this overweight softie is anyone's guess, but a corgi can waddle his way into anyone's heart or kitchen if he's allowed to. Ignoring the jibes, nips and trips of the fellow dogs is easy for Prince Charles. Cradled in Aunt Dolly’s arms he blows a raspberry to the lot of them. 
They are all just jealous.

Rangi What isn't special about this young fellah?  He’ll take on the biggest swing in the puriri tree, or swim a river infested with Murphy’s carnivorous pigs for a dare.  He’s keen on getting himself a dog-skin cloak one day, but jokes aside, he'll teach you to tackle sheep, or even tackle you if you’re not careful!

He seldom climbs on to a ewe for anything other than a quiet nap. A ram that does little more than wink rakishly before dozing off.  Wal occasionally pops him in with his ewes just to see the ‘hunted’ expression on his face and watch him try to climb back over gate

ENORMOUS and not altogether friendly… until that is she has eaten a feast of fermented fruit from under the old apple tree. There is nothing quite as terrifying as an intoxicated she-pig. Just ask poor old Boris.

The other sheep follow Gussie everywhere…often down Wal’s driveway and along the road towards Raupo school. She is REALLY friendly and likes to climb up small kids so they fall down. She has found that’s a great way for them to be able share the apples they’re carrying in their pockets with her.

Mangy, balding and gingerish. Smells like a bulldog’s belch. Irish is the deer thieving, dog shooting, ball room dancing leader of the infamous Murphy clan.

The evil, nasty neighbors to the Footrot Farm, this family are destructive and vile.

A bully of the worst kind…he’ll steal your lunch before raiding the pig trough for anything that looks like one of yesterday’s sandwiches.

Hunk is a nasty piece of work, vile and smelly he is one of the Murphy brothers.

Suave if not sophisticated, Spit runs rings round Wal’ on the footy field. He reckons Cheeky will fall for his wily charm … but it will be over Wal’s dead body!

Even the mighty pig slayer Major steers clear of the gang of three known collectively as ‘The Murphy’s Hell-hounds’. They run up and down the flimsy barbed wire fences separating them from all that is decent, scowling and snarling at everything that passes by. They fear nothing and no-one …except of course…Horse

Rangi’s little city cousin, is a tenacious kid. She sort of keeps popping up to see what the fuss is all about. The Footrot’s think she’s a bit weird, but they forget that they’re the ones who swim with eels and drink milk from cow and not a carton.

He’s a loveable little guy…but when Dolores is on the rampage he really wishes he wasn’t LOVEABLE at all!

You’ll never see her face, but she goes barefoot and makes whitebait fritters. Cooch is smitten. One day,…one day… he might find the courage to ask her out.

Nero is around to keep the ewes, as well as poor old Cecil on their toes. While Cecil is blessed with wit, charm and experience, he is no match for the Don Juan of the back paddock.

The smelliest most niggly animal around, he eats roses and blackberry thorns as though they were asparagus. He’s also pretty partial to chewing Wal’s underpants off the clothesline. Another one not to turn your back on.

Great hairy monsters, chest high to a tall man, who patrol the swampy bogs behind the Murphy’s barbed wire boundary. It says ‘No trespassing’, and the ‘croco-pigs’ make sure of it.

The meanest animal on the farm. Even nosing ahead of the rooster who likes to jump on Rangi and Pongo’s backs then ride them around the orchard while pecking their heads.

Another of Dog’s enemies…The turkey would end up on the table at Christmas, but the cunning beggar is just too darn smart to get caught.

Darts, touch rugby, backyard cricket…tiddlywinks… Wal’ tries in vain to win a trick from his naturally gifted brother.

What is it about rats that makes them villains? It is their tails – followed closely by the rest of them.

If you live on a farm and you have poultry, you have rats. If you live on a farm and you don’t have poultry, you still have rats.