In the quiet Alawa morning, Michael Borell stepped outside for his usual coffee, expecting the familiar patter of paws from his seven-month-old bull terrier, Flume. But when the spirited pup didn’t come bounding as usual, a chill of worry crept over him. Earlier that day, around 6am, Flume’s playful antics had earned him a timeout in the backyard after making a racket. “He was being a little menace, so we put him outside,” Michael recalled. But by 10am, the absence of Flume’s eager greeting signaled something was terribly wrong.
“I couldn’t see him in the yard,” Michael said, his voice tinged with concern. “I started checking the street, calling his name, but then I spotted his little tail sticking out from behind the house.” What he found was every pet owner’s nightmare: Flume, the adventurous pup, had chased a lizard and wedged his head firmly into the hole of a wheel rim. His pointy bull terrier head, perfect for squeezing into tight spaces, had betrayed him, leaving him unable to pull free.
“He’s got one of those heads that can shoot through things but can’t get back out,” Michael explained with a wry chuckle, masking the panic he felt. Desperate to free his furry friend, he tried maneuvering the wheel with Flume still attached, the pup awkwardly sidestepping as they moved to the front yard. But the rim held fast, unyielding to their efforts.
Michael called on his girlfriend, Nerissa Taylor, and together they attempted a slippery solution—dishwashing detergent. They lathered Flume’s neck with suds, hoping to ease him out, but the stubborn wheel refused to let go. “We tried everything,” Michael said, “but it was clear we were out of our depth.”
With no other options, Michael dialed the Northern Territory Fire and Rescue Service. The fireys arrived quickly, assessing the distressed pup trapped in an almost comical yet perilous predicament. Initially, they considered calling a vet to sedate Flume, whose whimpers and wide eyes betrayed his fear. But the team decided to try a hands-on approach first. With careful precision, they worked to free him, gently pushing bits of skin back through the rim’s tight grip.
“It was tense,” Michael recalled. “You could see Flume was scared, but the fireys were calm and focused.” After several nerve-wracking minutes of delicate tugging and maneuvering, Flume’s head finally popped free. The relief was immediate—Flume’s tail wagged furiously as he bounded around his rescuers, showering them with gratitude. “He wouldn’t stop following the fireys around,” Michael laughed. “He was so happy to be out, it was like he was thanking them in his own way.”
The ordeal left Michael and Nerissa shaken but wiser. “We’ve cleared out all the spare tyres from the yard,” he said. “No more traps for Flume to find.” The mischievous bull terrier, now safe and sound, is back to his lizard-chasing ways—though under much closer supervision. For Michael, the scare was a reminder of how quickly a playful moment can turn perilous, and how lucky they were to have the NT Fire Service’s quick thinking and steady hands to save the day.