WITTA DOG POUND

Ah, did you think that Witta, that beautiful area on the hill in Queensland, was a residential suburb? Well, folks do, when they first move here, but no, it’s a dog pound.

True, there are some folk here, amongst the canids, but in reality Witta is a canine community: humans are the minority. For every dog-free lot there is one with three. Three dogs, that is. Dogs rule in Witta.

Needless to say, the human population is not devoted to the neighbourhood dogs, and neither is the dog-owning sector, for these dogs are loose, lonely, bored, frustrated and frequently neglected and deserted by their owners.

Not a day or night goes by without some dogs deserted. The owners off, away, relaxing, shopping, restauranting, spending the night with in-laws or friends, or even a week-end at the coast. Without their dogs.

Restaurants discourage dogs. As do shops, beaches, in-laws, friends, hotels, units.

The reason dogs are discouraged, banned even, is because of their teeth, their shit, and their incessant barking.

So the dogs are left at home, to shit, yes, but mainly to bark, and bark, and bark, and bark, incessantly, from the instant their owners drive away until the moment of return: which may be even days later.

So who cares for these deserted dogs? NO ONE.

Who is affected by these deserted dogs? EVERY NEIGHBOUR.

Do the owners know of the cacophony they leave behind? NO. Because they drive away in sound-proof, air-conditioned comfort, oblivious to the ceaseless, unmitigated racket which starts the moment they leave. And stops the moment they return.

We dogless households fume and plot, our rest and sleep destroyed, hour after hour. Awake, wishing, hoping for the owners to return: surely, soon, surely by midnight, surely they are not staying the night in some peaceful motel?

Why are we loath to tackle the problem? To follow the Council Guidelines For Nuisance and Barking Dogs? Because we’re all a lot of wusses, that’s why. Fearful of knocking on a door and complaining. Set in our conservative ways, making no waves, terrified of awakening the ire of a mass-murdering dog-owner. Well, shame on us. Get out there and complain, otherwise the sleepless nights and destroyed days will continue.

But one quiet night, and we’ve forgotten the anger and frustration, and smile like babies through our peaceful dreams. Until. At three a.m. a dog-owner sets off to his (or her) early shift, leaving the three dogs to clamour for the return of their feeder and petter. Loud, long, and concerted barking for ten hours. Damn, damn, damn.

Every neighbour agrees; but will anyone act? Will they buggery. But soon, the worm will turn. Imagine: a beautiful suburb, birdsong, merry gardening and peaceful nights un-tainted by the chorus of yap-yap, yap yap yap, yap-bark bark, bark yap yap yap yap yap yap………………………………………………………………………