Rosie the Dog

This morning when I walked my dog I realised I would never, ever fit into my suburb.

Before I left I picked an outfit. Most of my clothes were in my floordrobe, so I picked a t shirt I was given last election when I gave out how to vote cards.

My Mia Handshin 'Labor for Sturt' t-shirt is a fine t-shirt.

It's bright orange. No-one would ever hit you with their car wearing it. Actually it is flourescent orange, even more orange than my netball skirt and far more orange than an actual orange.

This was the only thought that went through my head when I put it on.

When I was walking in the park I saw this other dog playing in the middle of the road.

It was a very little, very girlie dog. And it was oblivious to the fact it was in the middle of the road. Clearly about to get hit by a rampaging four wheel drive. So I tied my dog to the fence and went to make friends with the lost dog.

It had no name tag on it, only the council tag. I thought about carrying it home because as I said it was a very small, girlie dog, but I thought I would see if I could find it's home first. When I walked up to it the dog rolled over on its tummy and whimpered at me, then followed me when I walked across to the other side.

I could here some people talking in a house. A man, in particular, whose voice was as camp as a row of tents. And lots of children.

I called out to the camp man 'excuse me, have you lost a dog?'

'No' he said. 'Hang on, does it look like a Jack Russell'

'Yep' I replied.

'OOOh! said the camp man. I think that is my dog'

Then the camp man came out of his house, chasing the dog.

'Rosie!!! Rosie' he called, flapping his arms in a very unmanly way. 'Rosie'.

Then he looked at me.

'You supported my opponent in the last election' he observed.

'I did' said I.

'I' he continued 'am Christopher Pyne'

I almost ran away.

That's when I realised I would never fit into my neighbourhood. Every blue ribbon, Liberal voting house of it.

It was so strange I even forgot to gloat. I wish I had said something like 'enjoying opposition ha ha...'. or 'Not so smug now are we?' but no, the words did not come out.

I like to think I would have returned the dog even if I did know whose dog it was. I am a dog lover, even if I detest the Liberal party and everything it stands for.

I even more wish I had got to return a better politician's dog. Maybe Greg Combet's dog? But then again if Greg had a dog he probably would look after it properly and not let it run onto roads.

Maybe the whole dog freedom thing merely represents Liberal party ideas about market freedom. Maybe Pyne thinks the dog should be free to choose whether it wishes to be run over or not, and that if every dog owner had a fence it could restrict the market share of Smackos. Or the market in new dogs?

Anyway, I'm moving to a Labor area as soon as I can. Or an area with a Socialist Alliance member, if I can find one.