He hasn't worn his enormous 'Hand of Fatima' medallion since the day in the summer of 1976 when he was paddling in the warm but somewhat dungy Mediterranean, and the dead weight of his medallion dragged him under. His life was flashing before his eyes and threatened to bore him to death before he drowned. Fortunately his then eight year old mad sister dragged him spluttering and gasping from the surf and laid him on the hot sand, where he lay panting and heaving like a beached whale, right down to the constantly opening and closing blow hole. It was an episode which damaged his ego greatly. There is little that can be considered as undignified as being hauled in a panic from knee deep water by a small eight year old child in a 'Miss Piggy' bikini.in front of dozens of beach babes.
And so it was with not a little trepidation that Badger and I sat on the passenger seat of his Hyundai Getz. We were hoping for a little music on the way to the shops. Badger wanted to show of his moon-walking moves to a Michael Jackson number, he even has one white paw just like the late, great peculiar man himself. But, no - it wasn't to be. We had to listen to the news channel. Even Michael Jackson couldn't have danced to that, but we did learn that West Australian state politician Troy Buswell has been promoted to the position of Treasurer. Australian readers will remember that Mr Buswell, not so long ago sniffed the seat of one female parliamentarian and snapped the bra strap of another. Badger and I thought it excellent that his efforts in promoting gender equality and respect have been rewarded. The seat sniffing aspect of the affair is particularly gratifying. Both Badger and I would have been proud of that, as would almost any dog in the world. My male staff says that had he done that to one of the ladies in his reverse people smuggling office he would have expected to been fired so quickly that his feet wouldn't touch the ground, rather than get promoted to the lofty position of Seat Sniffer General. Things are obviously done differently in Western Australia.
Troy Buswell. Western Australia's Seat Sniffer General.
Anyway, there was no dancing to done, so Badger and I entertained ourselves by competing to see who could most distract my male staff from his driving. I have to admit defeat. Badger climbed onto male staff's lap and piddled for all he was worth. It took a moment for the horrid reality of the situation to dawn on my male staff and then a look of dismay seeped across his face at about the same rate as Badger's nice warm piddle was seeping into the front of his trousers. Badger then hurridly joined me on the passenger seat just in time to hold tight as my male staff looked down in dismay at the wet stain spreading across the front of his lime green trousers and drove (fortunately quite slowly) into the back of the car in front.
The nice man with the dented Ferrari was quite good about the situation all things considered. He seemed a little cross to start with, but when he saw the wet patch on the front of my male staff's trousers he stopped waving his arms and issuing threats to "poke your stupid little car up your arse." He obviously felt sorry for my male staff and apologised, saying that he didn't mean to frighten him that much. Sadly that was the end of that little excursion. My male staff decided that he didn't need new clothes after all, which Badger and I thought a very silly decision since his best trousers were ruined, not to mention a little smelly. We thought it best not to complain about the smell though and sat quietly as my male staff performed a hurried three point turn causing the drivers of other vehicles to swerve wildly and hoot their horns in admiration of his driving skill. Ten minutes later we were back at home, we hadn't even got to the shop. Badger and I were placed back in our cages and though we waited hopefully for our customary post-outing treat of a green bean or a sprig of basil, none was forthcoming. I do think it's petty to hold grudges, don't you?
My lap piddling experience was somewhat marred by my getting wet feet.