| Not Born Yesterday presents DOG COLLARS - The view from just above the carpet |
Terriers Daisy (16) Harry (11) and Foxie (5) pass comment and other bodily functions on the possibility of society's collapse to a level where household pet survival might be at risk
I was down at the cherry tree - picking the last of what has been a very poor crop - when I was seized with the desire to pee. Watching me intently as I emptied a straining bladder, Foxie waited for me to finish, and then promptly had one herself - covering mine.
I laughed.
"Giggle if you like" she said, "but this hierarchy thing is important. One day soon the old bat'll die, then I'll be in charge."
She was referring to the rapidly ageing Daisy, now sixteen and gradually fading away towards the doggy-walk in the sky.
"You'll no more be in charge than I will" I answered, "Jan's the Alpha in this pack, followed by me - and don't you forget it."
"Tell that to Harry" she said, cocking her head towards our middle dog, who was in turn cocking his leg against the nearby pear tree.
It was hard not to agree with her. Poor old Harry does a sort of hierarchy maths that leaves him constantly confused. Somewhere along the line, he has decided - and he's quite firm about this - he's Number Two in our household. If Jan's not around, this is fine because there's me above him, and that's it. But when she is, as he's still Second, there's the knotty issue of where I go.
He gave a little shake and then trotted over to us, his tail wagging wildly. As usual, Harry bared his teeth in a weird, rictus-like grin, half-sneezing as he did so.
"Hello little chap" I said, and ruffled his head. Harry immediately growled. Foxie shook her head.
"He's bonkers" she observed - with some justification - but the only male of the pack aimed another growl in her direction.
"It's dog eat dog round here" he said, "And if you don't want to be my afternoon snack, keep your nose out."
As Foxie scurried behind me for protection, Daisy appeared at the top of the slope from our house, Jan close behind her checking progress. My wife was holding a pool-ball she'd just inflated.
Our eldest dog started downwards gingerly, and then careered towards us before losing her balance,sliding androlling into a heap at the bottom a few yards from us.
"She's really lost it" Foxie observed, "Why don't we just put her out of her misery?"
"Daisy's not miserable" said Jan, running to catch up, "And as long as she's eating and happy to get out and about, then everything's just fine."
"I bet you're a Harriet Harman fan" Harry remarked. This stopped everyone in their tracks.
"I beg your pardon?" my wife asked. Harry sniffed the air and then replied.
"Well, it's obvious isn't it?" he began, "The very fact the old dipstick's still around is an open and shut case of positive discrimination."
"Hear, hear" said Foxie, adding "And what the hell's positive discrimination?"
"A very daft idea" I opined, "And an oxymoron". The youngest terrier adopted her customary air of bemusement.
"What's an oxydoodah when it's at home?"
"One of John's favourite words" said Mrs Ward.
"I think" said Harry, the trace of a smile at his mouth, "He's giving the oxygen of publicity to a moron."
My jaw dropped.
"Harry" I observed, "For a bloke who can't count from one to five, you could pun for England. You're an autistic savant".
"And what's a U2 stick's aven't?" Foxie now demanded.
"Is there a single word in the dictionary beyond two syllables you know?" asked Daisy, briefly returning to normal speed.
"A syllable? Isn't that a pudding of some kind?" Foxie interrogated yet again.
Jan ignored the question and threw the beach ball towards our hazelnut shrub.
"Fetch!" she said to Foxie. The little Norfolk looked first at the ball and then back at my wife. Then she dashed over towards the blue and red sphere. Terriers don't do fetch and bring back with balls: they do puncturing followed by savaging, a rule Foxie proceeded to prove. Satisfied that the intruder was dead, she returned to pick up where the conversation had been briefly interrupted.
"So this woman Harriet wotsername" she said "She's a moron,right?"
"Correct," said Harry and I in unison.
Foxie's mouth made to open, but before she could speak, Daisy pronounced slowly and with precision.
"Before you ask" she began, "she's a moron purely and simply because she thinks the way to
make everything fairer is to make it equally unfair for everyone, except the people for whom it used to be unfair, who are now going to be more equal than the other people who in turn will be less equal, if you follow."
"No" Foxie replied.
"That's OK" said Jan, "Because nobody else does except Harriet Harman and her strange bunch of friends."
"That is, most of the Government" observed Harry as he examined a twig.
"But surely" Foxie asked, "If she and the Government want things to be fairer, they can just put the people doing all the unfair things in prison can't they?"
"In theory" I answered, "But there's no room in the prisons, because it's all been taken up by people who did not very nice things to other people."
"Sort of...unfair things?" she persisted.
"In a way, yes" said Jan, "Unlawful things."
Foxie looked at each of the four of us in turn.
"And this Haridan woman...she wants to make it lawful to be unfair to some people....and unlawful to be unfair to other people?"
"No" said Harry, looking exasperated, "It's already unlawful to be unfair to those who've been unfairly treated. She just wants to make it lawful to give them an unfair advantage over those who had an unfair advantage over the people who used to be disadvantaged."
The Norfolk looked vacant for a second or two, and then her eyes opened wide as the penny dropped.
"Aah" she sighed, "I see now - if you give an unfair advantage to those who are disadvantaged, things cancel out and they're equal to everyone else?"
"Not quite" observed Daisy, "Because in giving them an advantage, you transfer the disadvantage to the other previously unfairly advantaged lot."
Foxie exhaled loudly.
"Isn't it easier just to empty all the prisons to make room for the unfair people?" she pleaded.
"The Government's already done that" I said, "But there are so many people doing unfair things, the prisons fill up again as quickly as they're emptied."
Foxie blinked again.
"I give up" she said. Harry nodded.
"So has the Government" he answered, "so to make it look as if they can do something about unfairness, they're going to make it legal."
This time, Foxie looked vaguely content.
"Actually, that's not a bad idea" she said, "In fact, that's a very good idea. If you can't enforce a law against being unfair, legalise it. Brilliant: it's the answer to everything."
A quartet stared at her, and then at each other.
"You know Foxie" I pronounced (with not too much irony) "You've missed your way. You should become an MP".
"I should?" she asked brightly.
"Absolutely" said Harry, "What we need is some all-dog lists".
"Positive discrimination!" exclaimed our little Norfolk.
"Exactly" came the quadrophonic reply.