[mamamia.com.au]
Before moving to Australia I was told that there are three topics one should never talk about: Politics, Religion and Sex. Holy shit I thought; these seem to be the only universal topics I was ever exposed in Europe.
I realised that in Australia there is one topic to be avoided if you are not in line with the vast majority: dogs. Australia is profoundly caninophile. So if you are not a dog lover: SHUT UP. Somehow the dog industry has developed into a cult, on the brink of becoming a full-fledged religion.
I wouldn't say that I hate dogs but I would certainly never consider sharing my dwelling with one. When a chihuahua decided to move into our house and my daughter pleaded with me to keep him, I became a real Nazi. I accepted our new cohabitant under the proviso that he would have to sleep in the laundry attached to the kitchen where I installed a niche for him. I carried out spot checks. To make sure my daughter had not allowed him to sneak into her room. I had to issue a few infringement notices.
Who had to walk him??? So when I walked him after dark I would wear camouflage gear. I must admit this dog-like creature was a real charmer. Unlike other chihuahuas he was very docile and adored children and, to his peril, cats. He had grown up with one and perhaps he thought of himself as half-pussy and half something else. He could never quite understand that his interest in cats was very unilateral and most cats did not respond in the kindest manner to his jovial approach. Though he never grabbed a pussy, he ended up with a fair few scratches on his muzzle.
He and I had a sort of amicable working relationship, as he had with my younger daughter, who inherited my caninophobia, and was in charge of hygiene.
But my relationship to this rather small representative of his species did not convert me to become a caninophile.