DUSTY GULCH GAZETTE

Special Political Correspondent Edition
Filed from the wrong side of a perfectly ordinary fence

THE GREAT CANBERRA DOG-FENCE SUMMIT

(or: Why They Still Haven’t Climbed Over It)

There are certain things in life that nobody in Dusty Gulch has ever properly explained.

Why two dogs will bark themselves hoarse through a fence they have no intention of climbing is one of them.

Why 226 grown adults in Canberra will do the exact same thing for an hour every sitting day is another.

Last Tuesday, the local diplomatic incident between Ezekial and Tony was still going when the wireless in the Dusty Dingo Pub was turned up for Question Time.

The resemblance was immediate.

And, frankly, insulting to the dogs.

On one side of the parliamentary fence sat the government dogs.

On the other side sat the opposition dogs.

A few independents, Greens and Teal mongrels ran up and down the fence line barking at whoever happened to be nearest. Nobody knew what the original argument had been about.

Nobody ever does.

After several minutes of increasingly passionate barking, the conversation became more intelligible.

Several honourable members were then physically removed from the chamber under Standing Order 94A, which is Canberra-speak for “the barking got too loud and someone used the word ‘liar’.”

Mayor McFookit watched the entire performance from his usual spot across the road, a pie in one hand and a look of deep professional recognition on his face.

“That’s politics,” he said.

I pointed out that neither side appeared to have mentioned housing numbers, electricity prices, or anything a person in Dusty Gulch might actually trip over on the way to the bakery.

“Exactly,” said the Mayor. “They established diplomatic relations, exchanged names, and then got it off their chests.

“Same as Ezekial and Tony. “The fence is still there. The dogs are still on their own sides. Everyone goes home feeling they have done a hard day’s work. Bloody waste of time and money if you ask me. ”

Then both packs of dogs went back to barking.

Same chamber.

Same dogs.

Same argument.

The bureaucrats, meanwhile, have written to the Speaker asking that video clips of the barking no longer be posted on the internet.

They say it exposes them to ridicule.

The dogs in Dusty Gulch have never once asked for the same courtesy.

Nobody in Canberra knows what the original fight was about either.

But they all seemed very pleased to have finally got it off their chests.

The fence never comes down.

The names get exchanged.

The barking continues.

Same as last sitting week.

Same as next sitting week.

Same as every Tuesday in Dusty Gulch.

Lance Corporal ‘Muttley’ McBark, Territorial Bones Division, seconded to Ratty News, offered the following military assessment:

“When two dogs fight over the same bone, son, the important thing is not who gets the bone.”

“It’s making sure the other bastard doesn’t get it.”

He paused, scratched behind one ear, and considered the matter from a tactical perspective.

“The trouble with two dogs fighting over the same bone is that neither of them notices the dog behind the fence stealing the other bones.”

Footnote: 

Red Dog wandered along the fence.

She looked at the Government dogs.

She looked at the Opposition dogs.

She looked at the Greens and Teals.

Then she looked at the fence.

Red Dog cocked her head.

“What's the fence for?”

Nobody answered.

So she walked around it.

-  Roderick “Whiskers” McNibble
Dusty Gulch Correspondent

Still Waiting for Someone to Realise that the Gate is Open. And the horse has bolted and the red, or is that orange, dogs are on the loose.