Sunday, 23 May 2010

Political Animal


I have a bone of contention.


The General Election is over and we have a new coalition government under Cameron and Clegg. But...

Do we have any dog politicians?

Do we have a fair democracy where every dog has the right to vote?

Do the humans even realise how badly we've been lobbying for the vote? How many more railings do we need to be tied to before our message is heard?

Dog suffrage, or "Ruffrage" as it's known, has been around for years. However, t
he closest we've ever come to having a voice in Government was with David Blunkett's four-legged assistants. Unfortunately they were Labs through and through and never spoke out against the party. What a shame! If I'd been in that Cabinet room, maybe we wouldn't have gone to war with Iraq.

Whenever voting reform is discussed it's always about the unfairness of the voting system. Well I concur. How are dog's supposed to mark a cross or a tick on a ballot paper using a pencil, then fold it and place it through a tiny slit into the ballot box? We're not all Britain's Got Talent finalists. What we require is an extension to the Disability Discrimination Act to include dogs so that reasonable adjustments are made to accommodate our lack of fingers. This should go paw and paw with other election reform.

We are supposed to be 'Man's best friend'. We should be next in line for political franchise. We're not all pets. Many of us contribute to the economy, with roles like guard dogs, police dogs, army dogs, farm dogs, rescue dogs, sporting dogs, hunting dogs, sniffer dogs, and not forgetting the five thousand guide dogs working in the UK. We even support the arts. One of us is about to take to the 'lead' in the Wizard of Oz in London's West End. What more do we need to do to earn our right to vote?

There are detractors who claim too few of us would live long enough to be eligible to vote. Not many dogs live to eighteen years of age, they say. Well that wouldn't be the case if you calculated our ages in doggy years. Others argue we would merely support the candidate that threw the biggest sticks or who gave us the most tickles without paying any consideration to the bigger political picture. I would respond: how is that different to the current situation? We have a nose for bullshitters and are far better at sniffing them out.

So if this coalition falters, I urge you all to use your vote to return a great leader to power, one who will get our message across. Gordon Brown? Tony Blair? Margaret Thatcher? No!

Churchill? Ohhh yesss!

Sunday, 16 May 2010

A List of Demands


I'm in the doghouse this morning. My masters found a mark on their new living room carpet and I got the blame. But where was their proof?

Granted, the mark was circular, smelled and was in an area I have been known to frequent but that doesn't automatically make me the culprit, does it? My master's prostrate gives him the odd whiffy tribble. Maybe he dripped unintentionally. It's not as if their noses could detect the difference? I mean, does dog urine look different to human's? Does it have its own unique colour? I don't think so.

I want discussions. I want a fair and open trial. I want video footage of the incriminating evidence. I want the right to remain silent. I want a lawyer. I want respect. I want equal rights. I want to be sent to their bed not mine.

I want a new chew toy every week to destroy as I see fit. I want more meals, more snacks and more exercise. I want to go for walks on my timetable, not theirs. I want to be free to wander and explore strange new gardens. I want to be able to keep the ball they throw. I want, just once, to be able to catch a bird or a squirrel. I want to have friends over to play. I want other dogs to like me.

I would have liked the choice about whether I could start a family or not.

I want to remember my parents. I want to know what they looked like. I want to remember their smell. I want to meet my brothers and sisters again. I want to know that they are all happy and alive. I want to know if my original owners ever loved me. I want to know why they abandoned me as a puppy. I want to know why they left me to fend for myself all alone in the world. I want to know why. I need to know why.

But you can't always get what you want.

So if I can't have that, I'll settle for a comfortable bed, regular meals, an occasional tickle and an understanding that when I cry and sniff around the patio doors it means I need to go outside. Now is that too much to ask?






Sunday, 9 May 2010

A Dog's Life - "Lick it up"

This morning I was wandering around the house when I picked up the scent of something nasty oozing from upstairs. Outside the en suite, I could hear the noise of the shower drowning out the hiss of a tinny radio and noted the door was slightly ajar. I nudged it open to find my master squatting on his throne, pants around his ankles. He was cleaning his bottom, examining the paper after each wipe, folding or discarding as he saw fit.

I thought, "What a waste of paper! He was about to take a shower anyway. Why not kill two birds with one sponge?" No wonder the world's in such a mess. You don't see me wiping my bum with paper - I just lick it clean. If humans were more like us there would be more trees left in the world to cock a leg on. What is it with humans and paper? When I was a puppy, they left newspaper everywhere. Did they expect me to read them? Was that how I was supposed to learn about the world? If it was, I failed. I just pooped and peed on them. They must have had low expectations of me cos they were still very happy.

I wanted to check the smell was indeed coming from the bowl (bowel) but he pushed me away so I decided, as I would have at least fifteen minutes of free time, I'd make myself at home in his bed and cocoon myself under the duvet until the air expired. I'm not meant to climb onto the bed or his furniture. I don't know why. It's far more comfortable than my bed or the carpet. Getting told off all the time is starting to give me a complex. Maybe I should make an appointment with a dog psychologist. At least then I could officially lie on a couch.

He's away tonight to see KISS at the SECC. I'm not invited. No animals are. It's a pet free zone. Apparently Gene Simmons wanted to make sure he had the longest tongue in the room. Coward!