But Dodd’s world began to fall apart when his father died suddenly while Dodd was still at primary school. Family life was fractured and Dodd became a mildly wild teenager. Often happily boozed-up, one night Dodd and a friend broke into the local newsagent’s and stole a couple of boxes of magazines and comics. The cunning thieves decided to hide their loot in a drain during a rainstorm. The contraband came floating home to the criminals.

Cheerful whimsy and self-deprecating humour characterise Dodd’s account of his life. There are flashes of anger and frustration, but the pervasive tone is one of genuine acceptance and resolution. For twenty years I have taken a special interest in personal accounts of disability; this is one of the best. The book’s cataloguing note indicates ‘Quadriplegics’ and ‘Aborigines’. Accurate enough, but limiting. Dodd is aware of the possibilities of self-pity, has a look at them and rejects them. He is a skillful matter-of-fact narrative writer, who avoids easy pieties and platitudes. Beyond his pride in his Aboriginality, beyond his anger at the injustices suffered at the hands of European interlopers, beyond his bewildered anger at suddenly being paralysed in his youth, Dodd’s writing is itself a triumph of a defiant human spirit.

There is a bit of tedium in Dodd’s fond-uncle accounts of the cute behaviour of nephews and nieces. But there is something of an attractive Huck Finn quality in the narrative, simple but not simplistic. Many writers have described the comedy of falling off horses. Not many have written with such self-mocking humour about falling out of wheelchairs. Having survived the ‘little crisis’ of almost dying after his accident, Dodd has set himself certain goals. One is to be a writer. He is well on the way.

Dodd adds fifteen poems to his prose account. While less accomplished than the prose, the poems are more openly emotional and some of them angry.

Why don’t they understand

My skies are turning black.

My smile is a smirk.

Wake up, you shitty people.

All I ask is – give me a go.

Dodd himself recognises that he is serving an apprenticeship as a writer. He also admits that he is gradually developing more mature and enlightened attitudes towards women – with a considerable way to go. I am not sure that he will ever abandon his idea that women should be flattered when he compliments their beauty in terms of his beloved horses. However, within these limitations, Dodd has written a book that is moving, enjoyable and quietly inspiring.