Help! My dog is a racist...
As many regular b3tans will know, my father in an act of stupidity which is up there with General Custer deciding to pick a fight with a few Indians, decided to move myself, my mother and our family boxer dog to Cape Town in 1987 when the country was on the verge of revolution.

Our hitherto friendly Boxer dog; Pixie was sent by boat to Cape Town where she was collected by my Dad at the harbour. At this point, a previously unidentified character flaw in her made itself known at a very inopportune moment.

"Sir, is your dog vicious?" asked the dock worker as he filled out the paperwork

"No, she's great with people" replied my Dad.

At that instant, Pixie was let off the boat and charged at the poor dockworker with her teeth bared and barking like she meant it. Our much loved family mutt had turned into the hound of the Baskervilles.

"Aaagh, sir! Please can you put you dog on a lead!" pleaded the unfortunate chap on the receiving end of ferocious Boxer. The chap in question was of course black, but the relevance to this didn't become clear for a while.

You see, Pixie was ever the gentle family dog until approached by anyone of a non-Caucasian disposition, whereupon she started to snarl and bark with fanatical ferocity.

We realised this when the postman approached to deliver the mail.

"Good mornin'" greeted postie in his usual cheerful voice.

Grrrrrr.... Woof! Woof! Snarl.... Ku Klux hound had to be physically restrained from going straight for the throat.

We were totally at a loss to explain it. We couldn't recall her ever having seen a black person before and assumed she was reacting out of fear of something different.

Anyway. Two years later and we've been back in the UK for about fifteen months. My brother phoned home to say he was bringing his mate Arthur home for tea before they went out on the town. Okay, fine. However there was a little problem here...

My brother had to sit Arthur down and explain the situation.

"I am really sorry mate, but our ah, dog has a real problem with erm, black people. You're welcome to come round for tea and all, but please, please be careful with the dog". My bro continued to paint a picture of a docile family pet with racial view slightly to the right of Eugene Terreblanche, all the time feeling incredibly embarrassed and sheepish. I mean, how does one broach the subject of a dog which makes a Suffolk Policeman's view on racial harmony seem positively mild in polite company?

My brother opened the front door and ushered in Arthur. At this point Pixie bolted through the lounge toward the front door before anyone could get near her, barking for all she's worth....

... And promptly greets Arthur like a long lost friend.

Talk about awkward.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Mon 11 Jun 2007, 19:52, Reply)