The Thoughts of Rathbone - Canine Sage - on Taxing Times

‘Typical,’ said Peter as he turned off the TV, clearly agitated as yet another member of Government gave an Oscar winning performance in front of the camera.

‘I know darling,’ agreed his wife Janet.  ‘How they’ve got the audacity to sit there and say those things I’ll never know.  If I had my way, I would make some of them wear a lie detector’.

Rathbone, who had been sitting with his head on his mum’s lap, while she gently fondled his ears, was stirred by the thought of politicians wearing lie detectors. 

Mum - he was now looking straight into her eyes - you must be joking.  You don’t honestly think they make lie detectors that could be worn by politicians do you?  They would be forever bursting into flames because of the overloads.

It was later that afternoon as Rathbone, Lucy the young Golden Retriever, and their mums were strolling across the common that the subject of politicians came up yet again, and inevitably it was Lucy asking the questions.

‘I heard on the news’ said Lucy ‘that in spite of the worldwide recession, there’s a strong possibility that even more tax increases are on the way. Surely with millions of people out of work and struggling to pay their bills, they wouldn’t do that would they’? 

‘Well let‘s put it this way’ replied Rathbone ‘I’d bet a year’s ration of doggie-chocs against a long walk in the rain, that they will’.

‘But why increase the taxes now,’ asked Lucy, ‘prices are going up anyway, so how can they possibly justify a rise in tax’?

‘Why they will do it,’ said Rathbone, ‘is because they’ve wasted all our money and need some more, especially for their pension funds and expenses . And as for justification, they’ll probably blame it on global warming’.

‘Global warming,’ exclaimed Lucy ‘they blame tax rises on everything and everyone, but never themselves.  Why don’t they just admit they got it wrong and apologize’?

‘A politician admit he got it wrong and apologize!’  Rathbone raised his eyebrows, ‘I doubt anyone could hold their breath long enough waiting for that to happen.  Although on reflection, Freddie might be able to’.  Rathbone was now laughing as he told Lucy that Freddie the Jack Russell, had once claimed that he’d held his breath so long, that under normal circumstances it might well have been a world record. It was just after Freddie had been caught getting a bit frisky with that pretty little poodle who lived opposite.  Freddie’s Mum much to his dismay had immediately made an appointment for him to visit the vets.

‘I don’t mind admitting,’ Freddie told Rathbone afterwards, ‘that when the vet put me on the table and approached from the rear, I was convinced that I was about to lose my masculinity.  Wow!  Was I relieved to find out that I was only there for my annual check-up.  I can honestly say that’s the only time I ever enjoyed having a needle stuck in my rear-end’.

‘No likelihood of an apology from politicians then,’ said Lucy still smiling at the thought of Freddie’s escapade. 

‘Well,’ conceded Rathbone looking thoughtful, ‘I suppose some might, especially when it’s election time, and bearing in mind a politician’s natural instinct for self preservation, a Government might, just might, decide that a show of humility is in their best interest.  Mind you, a show of humility might not be all that easy for a Government to organise.  First thing they’ll need to do is to find someone who can fake it best’.

‘Well apology or not,’ said Lucy, ‘if they put the taxes up yet again, it will just prove they’re more out of touch than ever.  And be fair, Rathbone’ - Lucy was in full stride now - ‘you would need to be a recluse living in outer Mongolia not to realise that the natives were getting restless.  Even a winner of an intelligence competition at a dog show, or the champion ball chaser on the common, would have enough sense to realise that a large increase in taxes might well be the straw that broke the Camel’s back and cause a mass protest’. 

‘Well you’re probably right,’ said Rathbone, ‘but with some Governments continuing to treat the people they’re supposed to represent with so much contempt, I wouldn’t bet against it.  Mind you,’ said Rathbone with an impish grin, ‘things could be worse’.

‘Be worse!  How come?’  Said Lucy.

‘Well suppose,’ said Rathbone, ‘they put the extra tax on dog food’.

‘On dog food,’ Lucy was looking angry.  ‘Oh yeh, I’d like to see them try that’.

‘Well I wouldn’t put anything past this lot,’ said Rathbone, ‘especially if they thought they could sneak it through without attracting the adverse publicity a rise, say, on petrol tax would create.  They probably think that dog owners in general, and elderly dog owners in particular are a soft touch anyway’.

‘Would they be a soft touch?’   Lucy enquired?

‘No they wouldn’t, and especially the elderly citizens,’ replied Rathbone. 

‘But what could they do?’  Asked Lucy. 

‘Well, I’m not sure,’ said Rathbone looking very  thoughtful.  But just imagine,’ and then he started to laugh again.

‘What’s  so funny? ’ asked Lucy.

‘Well, just supposing’, said Rathbone, ‘that thousands of elderly folk all over the country, some in wheel chairs, others on mobility scooters, some using walking frames, blockaded all the Government buildings and demanded to be heard.   There would be TV cameras everywhere, with one showing a close-up of an elderly dog owner, tears pouring down her face, as she holds up a poster saying.  “If one of us has to starve, it will be me, and not my lovely dog”.  Don’t you see Lucy?  The embarrassment for any Government would be immense, and the very least they would have to do is make a public statement and come clean’.

‘I can just see it now,’ said Rathbone, ‘as the Government’s Chief Financial Advisor is forced to appear on TV and make a statement trying to convince the nation that it’s not the politicians’ fault that dog food is so expensive, but the fault of the TWDFADCC (The World Doggie Food and Doggie Choc Cartel) who have just raised the price of doggie food and chocs by 200%’.  

Told by a news reporter that, before today, no one present had ever heard of the TWDFADCC.  The Chief Financial Advisor - whose lie detector is already showing signs of overloads - will reply.  ‘Well that’s not surprising, it was only formed last week, and anyway,’ he will go on to say, ‘lower dog food prices will mean fewer hospitals, badly equipped schools, and fewer perks for politicians.  Oops’!

And as he gingerly removes his lie detector - that now has all the characteristics of an overheated barbecue - the Government’s Chief Financial Advisor will assure the nation.  ‘That we have done our calculations very, very thoroughly indeed, and by putting the tax on dog food we can kill three birds with one stone.  Firstly, we can recover the tax we’ve lost by not taxing petrol even more.  Secondly, we can make the retired people - who probably spend more time walking dogs than driving cars anyway - pay for any tiny increase in their pensions they might get in the next ten years.  And fourthly…’ 

‘Fourthly, Chief Financial Advisor!’ exclaimed one of the reporters, ‘what happened to thirdly’?

‘Oh dear,’ said the Financial Advisor.  ‘Sorry about that, I’ve always been hopeless with numbers’.