THESE days, Animal Shelter staff and volunteers go to great lengths to find a home for any stray dog that gets into trouble.
But back in 1898 the Dog and Goat Act was law, making life was a tad more risky for wandering canines.
“In every case in which a reward is claimed for the destruction of any dog, the party applying for such reward shall produce to such police magistrate or justice, the tail of such dog,” stated the Act. No mucking around eh! Just find a stray dog wandering the streets, whip off its tail, then off to the police station to collect a reward. That was probably the way kids collected pocket money in those days.
SECTION 12 of the same Dog and Goat Act provided that, “any person may at any place seize any unregistered dog.” If the owner didn’t claim the dog within 24 hours after the service of a summons from a justice of the peace, “the dog shall be forthwith killed.” Harsh stuff eh!
WHILST we would probably consider the Dog and Goat Act of 1898 draconian there was one ray of sunshine for our four legged friends, when it stipulated that, “every person who uses any dog or goat for the purpose of drawing any cart, carriage, truck, or barrow shall be liable to a penalty of not more than forty shillings for the first offence and not more than five pounds for the second or any subsequent offence.”
NOW for that tale of sex.
When Dudley’s wife died he decided to buy a dog. Most people call their dog something like Rover or Spot, don’t they? But not Dudley. He got a dog and called it Sex and that’s when his troubles began.
I’ll let Dudley relate the rest of the tale.
ONE day I took Sex for a walk and he ran away from me. I spent hours looking for that dog. A policeman came along and asked me what I was doing in the alley behind the Pub at two o’clock in the morning. I told him I was looking for Sex and he threw me in the back of his van. I’m in court next Thursday.
A FEW weeks back, I went to the Council to get a dog licence for Sex. The lady behind the counter asked me what I wanted. I told him I wanted a licence for Sex. She said she would like to have one too.
I DECIDED to get married to the barmaid at the Pub. I told the minister that I wanted to have Sex at the wedding. He told me to wait until after the ceremony. I told him Sex is very important to me and my whole life revolves around Sex. He said he didn’t want to hear about my personal life and he refused to marry us in his church. I told him that everyone who was coming to the wedding would enjoy having Sex there. The next day we were married by a Justice of the Peace and my whole family is now barred from the church.
WE took the dog along with us on our honeymoon. When I checked into a motel, I told the receptionist that I wanted a room for me and my wife and a special room for Sex.
“Every room in the motel is for sex,” said the receptionist.
Then I said, “You don’t understand, Sex keeps me awake at night.” And the receptionist said, “me too!”
OUR marriage didn’t last long, but my wife got quite attached to the dog. So when we separated, we went to Court to fight for custody of the dog.
“Your Honour, I had Sex before I was married,” I pleaded, and the Magistrate said, “me too!”
When I told him that after I was married, Sex had left me and he said, “Me too!”
WELL now I’ve been thrown in jail and it’s all because of that bloody dog. The other day I went to see the prison psychiatrist. She asked me, “What seems to be the trouble?” I said “Sex has died and left my life. It’s so lonely now. It’s like losing your best friend.”
The psychiatrist just looked at me and said, “Dudley, you and I both know that sex isn’t everything. What you need is another interest in life. When you get out, why don’t you buy yourself a dog?”
*Geoff Goodfellow has lived his life in the Southern Highlands, works for Wingecarribee Council and is well known in local sporting and social circles.
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