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Jun 25, 2010




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95 thoughts on “Kevin Rudd’s Cat: Survivalist

  1. Liz A

    Armageddon firstdog? I can’t wait for the next instalment…

  2. eyebowman


    This is why I love you.

  3. zut alors

    Jiminy cricket, Mr Onthemoon, not again!

    There’s a sense of deja vu here: we are reminded of the Budget Week cartoon where our intrepid First Dog answered his mobile phone and was rendered all gushy and overcome with awe by the mystery caller. That was the last time we read ‘to be continued’ but we still don’t know who the hell was on the other end of the phone. Give us a break, we’ve lost sleep over this.

    ‘ to be continued’ – yeah, right…

  4. paddy

    How typical of the newly crowned “cartoon laureate”. He fires off a blinder and leaves us all in suspense, so he can bugger off to Bali to spend time with his new elephant friends. 🙂

    Oh faithless, funny hound. We’ll sure miss you for the next week or so. 🙁

  5. Sancho

    Loved this one.

  6. Michelle Imison

    First Dog – do you know yet whether the new PM has any pets? (And I’m not talking about Tim.)

    I hope you will also continue to follow the exciting adventures of Abby and Jasper… any cat that can say power ‘corrupts absolutely, and I love it’ needs to be kept under close scrutiny!

  7. Meski

    To be continued? On a fscking Friday! FFS!

  8. Ern Malleys cat

    I think Jasper will ditch the crybabies and stay on in Canberra, setting up camp in the Scabby Range Nature Reserve.
    From there he will connect with other former Labor malcontents, Mark Latham, Peter Walsh, Gary Johns and Michael Costa to form a crazed militia that will receive its instructions from the Ghost of Mal Colston.
    Prime Minister Gillard will recall the troops from Afghanistan to defend against the guerilla attack, but they will be vanquished at the Battle of Capital Hill.
    Abby will finally realise that she is the only sane creature in Canberra and set out to reason with the Colonel Kurtz-like Jasper.
    It doesn’t end well.

  9. paddy

    EMC: I think you hit the nail on the redhead. So to speak. 🙂

    The powerfox is way too smart to try evicting Jasper.
    That’s why she’s refusing to move in to The Lodge.
    Mind you, she’ll be playing the long game for sure.
    Tempting him out with a variety of tasty morsels.
    A sliver of Tony Abbott’s penis here.
    A smidgeon of that famously rare delicacy, Phillip Ruddock’s heart.
    Hell, call in Matt Preston and we could stage an entire “celebrity episode” of Masterchef at the gates of The Lodge. 🙂

  10. Meski

    @Buzz: The humourless bastards over here will be on your case.


  11. Kathryn

    I don’t suppose FDOM that you intended to insinuate there was any similarity between the attitudes of the cat in the Lodge and Janette Howard in Kirribilli House not all that long ago !!


  12. Meski

    @Kathryn: No, Jasper’s a cat. Janette’s a … female dog.

  13. wagwak

    I want to know how MY cat Burnside has come to feature in First Dog AND lives at the Lodge…Does he materialise there during the day when I am at work? No wonder he’s tired and grumpy when I get home at night….I guess the Fucktardosaurs wear him out….It can’t be the Pussy Cat Dolls in Canberra as he has no balls…unlike a certain Redhead….xxx

  14. Aron

    Will no one think of the pets??!?

  15. wagwak

    With a sawn off shotgun and six months of sardines, I think the pets are okay….

  16. paddy

    Damn you @Buzz. I’ve been so good all day.
    Carefully putting down any drinks before even touching the mouse.
    Then, along comes the Buzzer and…….splat!!
    Another keyboard joins the unemployed fossils queue. 🙂 🙂

  17. Venise Alstergren

    Dear First Dog,

    You have a nasty habit of buggering off to other places, and exploding a little nuclear device, such as “To be continued”.

    What about the mysterious phone call in Canberra? You promised us we would find out who the other person was. We all tried to guess who it was, remember?
    We, your devoted acolytes, do not deserve to be led up the garden path, following Jasper’s trail, and/or calling card. Harumph!!!

    I hope you get sand in your budgie smugglers. So there!

  18. wagwak

    “but he was a smart man, a good man” mewls Abby, jumping about hysterically amid the bodies of fallen and failed while the fucktardosaurs fall silent at the feet of the approaching assassin….

    ….”the horrurrr, the horruuurrr” purrs Colonel Jasper.

  19. pevance

    A cracker.

  20. Tom McLoughlin

    The ghost of Spike Milligan has drifted in from Woy Woy and had a look over my shoulder. He says a golden retriever should be yellow not lurid orange. And Kurtz The Cat’s eyes are different sizes, and … wasn’t it Kev himself pictured in the Sydney Daily Telegraph last week of the 2007 federal election in a set piece picfac reading a copy of American Shotgun? Yes indeed it was such a blatant red neck, round the ankles, pitch to the sporting shooter pig dogging crowd that this cartoon should have just gone for the Ego himself, rather than the alter ego. Cold dead paw indeed! Otherwise, mmm, not bad.

  21. Venise Alstergren

    WAGWAK: I seek guidance re where to put the emphasis on fucktardosaurs.

    Is it, perchance fucktárdosaurs?




    None of the above?

    Oh well, I tried.

  22. Sandshoe

    If I had not been held to ransom by a cat who aimed weaponry at me – only I – in a household of four flatties counting cat, I would not believe this! 😮

    No coincidence for me – either way – that Jasper is a flat cat. Yes, ‘the’ cat – from that vantage of boxes piled high below stairs for clear view of an entrance and a back door – shot at me. Yes, tore the skin off one of my ankles before plummeting the distance to the floor, yes. Cats like Jasper become one dimensional in fear of that return journey. 😎

    Jasper should never have been granted a gun licence. ❗ 😎 😎 😎 ❗

  23. paddy

    ROTFL Thank you for that image Sandshoe. 🙂
    I just had a marvellous thought.
    Just imagine the prime rodent, dressed in his flak jacket, being sent in to negotiate Jasper’s surrender. (Naturally, the prize being offered to our little Aussie tracksuited battler is the presidency of the ICC.)

    Hell, this could turn into an epic movie!!
    Get on your bloody iPhone and speak to Spielberg at once FD. 🙂 🙂

  24. Chris Johnson

    I want the adventures of Abby and Jasper turned into a film. Art imitating life will make a dead-set blockbuster to break all box office records since Brenda Star sold out at Dymocks. This is the episode where a coup in the capital turns the homeless rabid.

  25. Holden Back

    @ Chris Johnson- there are far too few foul-mouthed animations, but Canberra’s homeless must be doing it tough enough at the moment, without rabies.

    I like the idea of Jasper in the CommCar with a semi-automatic rifle, terrifying the boulevards and roundabouts. Do you think he’s heading for bling and back-up dancers/singers?

  26. wagwak


    Jasper Zelig-Kurzt “Mr Grey” Rudd murmurs Fucktaaaardosauuurs under his sublime purr while oiling up the firing mechanism of his semi-automatic….

  27. Sandshoe

    I feel honoured @ PADDY. Thank you, Paddy. I have accepted by a delicate inclination, if you can imagine it, of my green head.

    And Dogonauts, in fact I turn to EVERYBODY (I like that intimacy)! Isn’t Paddy’s rollicking laugh marvellous illustration of the way a laugh so often results for others as result of a collegiate or familial howl of pain-audible or imagined-that is unexpected especially in its incorporation with an observed or imagined second movement. Its content is rather like a hinge manipulated with a thumb and first finger. Like a puppet. Not unlike an intake and its outburst of a breath of the fresh air of a laugh. Arguably as unexpected as an attack orchestrated by a cat.

    That first movement. Conceived. Planned. And the cat-speaking of it-for all any one of us knows has piled the boxes in place and thus on its own we might imagine cognisance of consequences leaps.

    Then that second movement. Not foreseen we might imagine by the same conflicting token when we observe for Tom the cat the outcomes in pursuit of Jerry, the mouse in Tom and Jerry, the cartoon and Tom hits the wall.

    It is too delicious for humourists like Paddy when Sandshoe howls in pain and a vicious cat falls a storey. SPLAT! FLAT! Look on our works!

  28. wagwak

    Perchance, “Jasper and the Dogonauts” as a lounge act in downtown Canberra..a front for a band of highly trained Ninja felines packing iron? Mr Grey, Mr Ginger, Mr Black and White and Mr Marmalade??? The Rat Pack??

  29. Sandshoe

    WAGWAK: I have been studying semiotics and significations in particular used in Australia in swearing on and on ceremonies.

    I would like to audition for Longue Lizard.

    Ever thespian,


  30. Venise Alstergren

    WAGWAK: I’m thinking of joining Walnut in her more or less complete winter sleep. Inside it is warm, and cosy, and ducted heating, a duvet or two, with herself parked on top of one of them.

    Hibernation plus Shakespeare should do the trick.

    In Melbourne we are having one of the coldest winters ever, and I hate it.

    FD certainly picked his time well.

    ‘Night all.

  31. wagwak


    My Cat Burnside, a Russian Blue named after Frank Burnside of the old Bill, demands my attendance under the duvet every night at 8.30pm promptly. To indicate his impatience, he sits blocking my view of the idiot box, back against my face with tail slightly twitching. If I refuse to decamp to my bedroom, he usually farts, which gets me up and moving pronto.

    Silent and deadly like feline Ninja’s as a whole, a feline fart can level the best.

    I dont know why the NSW Labor Right hasn’t realised the potential of pussycat gas before this. It can be used silently, without numbers and from afar. No actual physical contact or sighting is required. And best of all, the Fucktardosaurs really could blame the cat.

  32. Sandshoe

    Ooops! 😳

    I … really :!:… seriously meant ‘Lounge Lizard’ not ‘Longue Lizard’. ❗

    OR … NOT that I am paranormal … Jasper changed my petition to imply a snake. ❗ 😯 😉

    Venise will be likely sleepy byes by now methinks. Thank you, V. 😎 🙂 😎

  33. Sandshoe

    I must have dreamed on my role as Longue Lizard and images surface today regardless I seek to forget.

    In one of my lives I worked as a timber finisher.

    I see myself reclined on a chaise longue in wood grain patterned overalls adapted to a dogonaut’s costume.

    All about are commenters posed as if in costume.

    EMC appears as a, handsome I concede, black and white cat beside a hall stand next to a china cat.

    Do I dream still*, but that is dogonaut Venise curled up asleep on a rattan mat under an exotic covering?

    Nobody* except Noddy will drive a motor vehicle any more, soon. Noddy pedals his. Smart Noddy!

  34. wagwak

    My Cat Burnside, a Russian Blue named after Frank Burnside of the old Bill, demands my attendance under the duvet every night at 8.30pm promptly. To indicate his impatience, he sits blocking my view of the idiot box, back against my face with tail slightly twitching. If I refuse to decamp to my bedroom, he usually farts, which gets me up and moving pronto.
    Silent and deadly like feline Ninja’s as a whole, a feline fart can level the best.
    I dont know why the NSW Labor Right hasn’t realised the potential of pussycat gas before this. It can be used silently, without numbers and from afar. No actual physical contact or sighting is required. And best of all, the Fucktardosaurs really could blame the cat.

  35. Buzz

    What’s happened to the ‘Comments’ facility in the latest Classic ‘toons from the past? Is FD the only one in the Crikey office with the strength to deal with us? Do they think we’ll go feral in his absence.

    BTW, I was in Sydney last night for dinner with a mate. All these wussy Sydney’ites were complaining about the cold. Ha! Seeing that it was -7 in parts of Canberra yesterday morning a mere 5 degrees seemed absolutely balmy and tropical to me. FD didn’t need to go to Bali, he could have gone and visited the baby elephant at Taronga Zoo instead.

  36. Venise Alstergren

    BUZZ: shiver, shiver. Shiver, shiver. We could try going feral. It might warm us up a bit?

    SANDSHOE: This Dogonaut is currently wound up in a foetal position and wondering why she too wasn’t smart enough to hie me to a warmer climate. ❗

    WAGWAK: Love the name Burnside. Very high class! Rumpole of course? I hope?

    Walnut gives an astonshingly canine bark when she is telling me when it is bedtime. I’ve never been able to get her to go under the duvet. Perhaps it’s because she hain’t no haristocrat? Who would know what goes on in the mind of a cat? Apart from a cat, of course.

    Cheers all


  37. wagwak


    Burnside is 33 1/3% – 33 1/3%- 33 1/3% with regards to the origin of his name..

    As a Russian Blue he is POSH. As an ex-Adelaide girl, Burnside is meant to be THE posh suburb in the minds of some. However, he is also silvery grey blue with green eyes, so he is also like “Frank Burnside” a rather shady Copper from The Bill 20 years ago and YET , he is also a Rumpolenesque character, especially considering the size of his girth…When I am particularly being hassled by him for his 500th meal of the day, “Barge-arse” comes to mind….I note too when he demands sleepy byes, one eye begins to close towards a half slit as if he is preparing for a Ninja leap. I really belive that Jasper has an Australian wide network of deep sleepers that outdoes the Russians, all waiting for the signal (perhaps that particular piquant smell of cat “Spray”), to call them to arms…Dear Abby needs to write to Dear Abbey for advice….

  38. Ern Malleys cat

    Sandshoe: your mention of woodgrain patterned overalls reminded me of an alternative use I found for part of Firstdog’s Christmas nativity scene.
    When Oscar de la Renta’s cat came over for brunch I got him to model the timber trousers that were originally part of the Baby Jesus’ crib.

  39. Venise Alstergren

    WAGWAK, SANDSHOE, EMC, BUZZ: and everyone else. We should all club together to buy Tony Abbott a present.

    A tiger

    A skunk

    A pack of African hunting dogs (far deadlier than a hyena) they hunt in packs; when the lead dog gets tired another dog takes over. They are implacable.

    A warthog

    A one way ticket to the Sahara

    Anyone else want to make a couple of suggestions?

  40. Sandshoe

    EMC: Stephen Conroy will be most interested in a bulk consignment of the wee troosers Oscar de la Renta’s cat modelled at brunch at yours.

    EMC, but please let me compliment you personally. Those are a nicely hung pair of tiny troosers. They suit. Oscar’s is a well finished cat and manners maketh the cat.

    Venise, I wonder we might if we might club together and tell TA how crook* on his hustings he speaketh. Y’ think?

    I’m in the mood for theatre
    Simply because he’s near me
    Funny but when he’s near me
    I go right off my food.
    Why stop to think of whether
    This little skit is nonsense
    Join us
    We’ll put our arts together
    Then when we are one
    It’s what we can do-o-o-o do-o-o-o…

    * BP is crook. It is a marvel BP service station managers and owners have not walked off their premises. Just walked off.

  41. Venise Alstergren

    SANDSHOE: Don’t look at me when you suggest joining together in a chorus. I can’t sing.

    At school they used to bribe me not to attempt to join the choir, so, at the end of the year Chrissy fiestas so beloved of schools, I got huge speaking parts.

    One year I actually made it to Choir II, but after that exhausting effort the head mistress hauled me into her office. “Congratulations Venise, you did succeed in singing today, but it’s a big program this year and your voice would be so much more gainfully employed learning this huge part.”

    What did I say? I capitulated. Opera lost a great voice at this stage. Says me wistfully.

    I am so happy to think of FD sunning himself on a beach in Bali, while I’m having trouble holding my jaws, and teeth together.

  42. wagwak


    How about a two for one offer on a brain and personality for Tony A?

    But there’s more!

    A free DNA test to confirm his direct descent from Homo Idiotus?
    Three husbands for three daughters?
    Shares in a back street nylon weaving factory in down town Mumbai with a workforce of 5 year old children making budgie smugglers?
    A hit man?

    Burnside takes it that you aren’t the cat’s mieow in singing (sorry for the pun)…

  43. Venise Alstergren

    WAGWAK: I hate to depress you, but the revolting Tony Abbott is a Rhodes Scholar.

    It’s his charm and his great concern for women and his heaving chest of hair, YUK!
    That I find so resistible.

    Together with his Catholicism.

    “Shares in a back street nylon weaving factory in down town Mumbai with a workforce of 5 year old children making budgie smugglers?” Delicious suggestion.

    Burnside sounds like a member of the Melbourne Club.

    Walnut, the tart, is dead unimpressed by Burnside’s upper-classness. Whereas I am gob-smacked.

    Hehehehe 😎

  44. wagwak

    The selection Committee dropped it’s standards when it accepted Clinton, so TA shouldn’t hold that up as a special academic achievement. Writing in 14 point font and knowing how to spell scholarship seems to be all that is required….

    He still requires a personality other than being a Holy Vassal through which Billy Graham channels….and yes Sandshoe, I did mean Vassal and not vessel, although that could open up a whole new discussion….

    Burnside is what I define as a zeitgeist whore and goes where the food and trends are. He’d like Walnut. I am sure all Melbourne Club members like a “bit of rough” now and again so he’s no different. Rather like Christopher Hitchens actually…

    Walnut sounds quite sensible

  45. Sandshoe

    VENISE: I was suggesting we share our arts. Yes, I admit you saw me looking at you, but each to their own branch. Indeed I have been known to warble like a bird-speaking of branch-thrilling at spring and I would be only too happy to above your head Venise while you manage your huge parts.

    If I might be swung out on a bosun’s chair-speaking of vessel WAGWAK-I would warble good and loud if I saw a suspicious budgie smuggler and throw apples. Apples have been proven good for mental health. I didn’t see the study. We might need an understudy. Ba da bing ba da boom!

    Vassal!?!! Vaseline!?!! For the part of your life! Here we come, Bollywood! 😎

    Wagwak, I know not this ‘Vassal’ from my own experience. Perhaps like ‘Wassail’. 😯

    Wæs Hæil


  46. wagwak

    peanut…Burnside sends this explanation……

    vas·sal   /ˈvæsəl/ Show Spelled[vas-uhl] Show IPA
    1.(in the feudal system) a person granted the use of land, in return for rendering homage, fealty, and usually military service or its equivalent to a lord or other superior; feudal tenant.
    2.a person holding some similar relation to a superior; a subject, subordinate, follower, or retainer.
    3.a servant or slave.
    4.of, pertaining to, or characteristic of a vassal.
    5.having the status or position of a vassal.

    1300–50; ME < MF < ML vassallus, equiv. to vass(us) servant (< Celtic; cf. Welsh gwas young man, Ir foss servant) + -allus n. suffix

    —Related forms
    vas·sal·less, adjective
    non·vas·sal, noun
    sub·vas·sal, noun
    un·der·vas·sal, noun

    —Can be confused: vassal, vessel.

  47. Meski

    @Venise: yes, I have more suggestions.

    Ferrets, to replace the budgies.


    Actually, they’re both members of the weasel family, they’d probably get on well with him.

  48. Sandshoe

    The wood patterned overalls are such a saving. A peanut. I just have to eat plenty to keep in shape.

    With a little vaseline in my top knot for a pointy bit on one end I am set for opening night tee hee. 😛

    Vassal, eh. Not vessel. It is a rare distinction of vowels. 😎

    Please thank Burnside, Wagwak. BTW, Wagwak I have visited Burnside, the place of the original house of Burnside. By public carriages. I of course wonder as a point of order where in Burnside Burnside is from from a perspective of … a CATalogue, mais oui, I love order. 😯

    So why I cannot bear TA in a disorderly costume pedalling in circles backwards around Australia. ❗

  49. wagwak


    I, le Chat Burnside, have NEVER been an occupant of a house in Burnside in any of my nine lives. (Note, I am a very careful Ninja and have yet to lose a life) and NEVER intend to live in such a place. I have lived in many places posh and pauPAWrish but, being a Zeitgeist Whore, my favourite abode is whereever sunshine and Whiskers reign supreme in that moment..My uncontrollable and uncouth Owner saddled me with the name after, I believe, a particularly drunken night where she decided that providing me with a suitable Russian name as advised by my Breeder, was “just not on”…I am, at heart and now absent Balls, an Alexi Dmitri Shostakovich…Neither do I subscribe to CATalogues although I am, too, a lover of Order (especially of the Restaurant standard Food variety, usually sitting on my Owners Chest at 4am in the morning demanding steamed chicken)..

    VENISE, my experiences as a Ninja Cat with rattus rattus is that they would provide the best companion to this personage named Tony although he would probably enjoy them too much as they also do not believe in birth control…they are singularly unpleasant Beasties, unpleasant to the eye, nose and taste…a PURRfect fit for the male human in question…or is that a questionably human male????

  50. Venise Alstergren

    WAGWAK: Ah! Bonjours le chat, (Monsieur) Burnside.
    Moi, je m’appelle Walnut.

    My servant, Venise, tells me you are a very classy chat indeed. I suppose you must be unique, having a house and a whole suburb named after you? Despite your servant’s denial of same.
    I hate going to the vet. The last time I had a booster shot it took the slave, and three vets, and their two slaves to give it to me!
    I am of a mature age, long-haired (which my servant is forced to brush BRIEFLY every night) and I am a tort cat.

    I grew up in impoverished circumstances. I was preggers and due to be drowned-I had been living in the roof of a horse stable when the owner of the stable pleaded with Venise to take me. Naturally she did as she was told.

    I had the progeny aborted and have been living high-on-the-hog ever since. I have the most beautiful fluffy tail. And I’ve learned to bark like a dog; I learned how to do that when we used to live next to a dog, who barked his rotten head off.

    Well that’s about the extent of my biography. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.

    BTW: You tell your servant to give you only fish to eat and to give you Hills t/d for your teeth. Not long ago the Vet shiver, shiver, had the nerve to open my mouth with his fingers, before saying “Venise, (the hired help) Walnut (me) has the teeth of a three year old” This was just before he screamed with pan after I had closed my mouth and bitten him, on the fingers.

    I’m sure you will agree Monsieur Burnside, there are just some things that a cat should not tolerate!

    Hi there WAGWAK: I told you she was a pain in the arse. I agree with you about rattus rattus, but isn’t there a rattus norweigus (sic) which is much bigger and carried the fleas of the black death-bubonic plague?


  51. Sandshoe

    Le chat du Venise! Quelle chierie! But love me! Les deux chat! They think! They write!

    I am not going to check on my French titbits by googling. Let it stand and my shame with it if it might say I spoke as if a fool in French and not English. I did do 5 years of it in kindy, Wagwak.

    I know. Most kids only do one year. I think perhaps Tony went up too fast.

    Goodness, it is good Walnut is so excellent in diplomacy she has translated everything there is to say into English further from her traditional greeting.

    Konbanwa! Anyway! Japanese! No googling! It is a language I know, modestly!

    I say ‘Konbanwa’ to an original speaker to impress if it is this time of the evening and wait until I am addressed with the usual statement of greeting and delight I speak Japanese, wave my hands if both are free, shake my head vigourously and hold up the thumb of my right hand with the index finger of that hand extended above it to indicate tiny. I say ‘Sukoshi!’

    Sukoshi! Such a beautiful word! Little! A bit. Burnside who is I acknowledge given his druthers Alexi Dmitri Shostakovich would very likely say ‘Un peu’. Walnut might I suppose as well given it seems she shares with Burnside a common reference in the language of love.

    Sukoshi! Sukoshi! Sukoshi! I am applying to teach the word as a precaution and the gesture to schoolchildren might they be called to line the roads for when Tony pedals through rural towns. 😛 😎 😛

  52. wagwak

    Venise! Sandshoe!

    Burnside assures me that Walnut has confirmed her status as “tart”…namely the biting of the Vet. Indeed, Burnside likes tarts and regularly allows the obese black and white example next door to beat him up. He wears his scratches and injuries with pride as if a member of some Feline S&M club.

    Burnside is indifferent to the Vet except for the initial pee in the corner of the examination room..Then he is relaxed and in charge…I must confess that I have noticed a somewhat momentarily shocked then look of zen-like acceptance that crosses his face when the thermometer is inserted..not even a flattening of the ears or darkening of the pupils belies his inner thoughts. In short, I think he likes the attention. He says “Bah” to fish, accept fillet of sole broiled in milk…Pizza with the lot, including black olives and pineapple reign supreme, followed closely by desert of rockmelon and dried apricots. Perhaps he is as Guurrrmond, signifying the type of purr he emits after Dominos.

    Sandshoe, Burdside likes multilingual creatures. Even though he is without Balls, the languages of love mesmerise him like a rattus rattus against the dying sun, and he yearns…yes he yearns…

  53. Venise Alstergren

    WAGWAK @ SANDSHOE: There you are, or there one is?

    I told Walnut that Burnside was a class act, a twitch of a whisker could have indicated that she heard me, but as she was engaged in her perennial wash and brush up at the time, I cannot be sure.

    I am amazed at Burnside tolerating the ‘thrust up the bum’. It has been years since Walnut’s Vet even ventured to raise the subject.

    Think one Tort-striped feline. Big of contour-eyes blazing with hatred- each toe on each foot a naked scythe all coming together with the sound of an ancient Spitfire loaded on acid emanating from her wrathful throat, to get the overall terror of the creature. After all, the Vet is only a man!

    Walnut, do you have to wash yourself again?

  54. wagwak

    Venise and ‘shoe,
    Yes alas, perhaps an Etonian Public School-side cat comes out in Burnside with the thermometer thrust up the nethers….I don’t discuss it with him beyond noting his obvious “Visits to the Vet are things that must be tolerated” acceptance. His “sister” on the other hand, a mad Jack Russell-X named Orey mirrors Walnut: – Her eyes turn a particular shade of red, she begins to foam at the mouth and a muzzle is required to stave off demonic possession. I have literally seen the Vet clasp her Crucifix, white knuckled. She and Walnut are spiritual sisters in their hatred of “The Vet”…no thermoterters or examinations of teeth have ever occured and yearly vaccinations see me flung across the entirety of her 20 inch long body in a wrestling hold worthy of World Wide Wrestling…

  55. Venise Alstergren

    WAGWAK: I’m engaged in hysterical laughter. Hahahahahaha 🙂

    I’ve been reduced to reaching for my Crucifix too. And I’m an Atheist! 😯 😎

  56. Mike Jones

    Hi Venise, ‘shoe and fellow Doggonauts ! Zut, Paddy, EMC, Bottanista and a few other reprobates including me have been hanging out at video of the day – I forgot to use the old dogblogs when the wren shut the kennel during FD’s elephantine leisure study.

    The point is to not ever succumb to watching the video of the day…. just to hang out

    Cheers, Emm

  57. zut alors

    Jiminy Cricket!

    What’s going on here in the Dogonaut Lounge?! It’s been turned into First Cat On The Moon.

    Incidentally, Burnside is a great name for a critter – I used to reside at Burnside prior to deacmping Up North. It was a dangerous place for cats as it’s sited in the foothills of Adelaide and brown snakes are not uncommon. I saw several over the years including a particularly cheeky serpent with half his/her body draped inside my Wellington boot by the verandah door. The boots were always stuffed with socks as an anti-snake device after that incident.

  58. Sandshoe

    Hello MIKE JONES, I myself found some dogonauts over at SheMarketing in the Tony Abbot section of Crikey!

    I had a word to say. The idea of making Tony Abbott attractive to women was just in my face. It’s different there from watching a video at video of the day not.

    Y’ know, peoples are so peculiar, my little sparkey would have said. She would have said-as well-they are prone to lying doggo. Sometimes ‘peu’ and sometimes … largely large I would say. I became her reminder morning and noon and night.

    Didn’t I say? About sparkey? Lower case ‘s’, yes, Wagwak! Venise, Zut! … anybody who is round and interested … not sure how round the dogonauts each is, are… Venise has me confused between singular and plurals … o, Zut, hello and just too Snake Smart with your socks … ooo!

    One wonders where they went.

    The snakes at Zut’s! I like to just know everything. What a pedant. O, darn!

    I have to run. I have to attend a meeting.

    Noddies have been pedalling round and round about the interchange without the People’s permission so off I go in my cape. I’m a champion. Bust and bustle, that’s me these days. 😉 🙂 😉

  59. Mike Jones

    Zut, over at the Pig’s Arms we have a small cadre of male nurses (all married to girls who refer to themselves, none-the-less as the purse-carrying nancy boys)

    Two of them got together with another guy and started a lounge room band – called the Burnside Refugees. If you search for them there you can hear a clip of “Locomotive Breath”.

    I need to warn you that there has been speculation about the chemical status of the bongo player, though.

    Cheers, Emmjay

  60. zut alors


    Having tuned into them the mystery remains whether they are named after the Adelaide suburb, after Julian Burnside or Wagwak’s cat (see above posts).

  61. Mike Jones

    Zut, I can reliably report that our house band hails from the eponymous Adelaide suburb.

    The Pig’s Arms is a pretty far and wide pub – all over Australia, North America, the Middle East (including our intrepid reporter who flits amongst Afghanistan, Israel, Pakistan, Syria, UAE and Lebanon). We have stringer correspondents in Thailand, and sometimes Africa, Central and South America, and Enmore.

    Our private dick Foodge has popped up in Paris and your humble correspondent was photographed next to a GIANT PIG in front of St Stephens in Vienna. Google pig’s arms + kassler.

  62. Mike Jones

    Moderated ! Too many references to a certain global trouble spot !

    Zut, Adelaide suburb. See also a common search engine with terms Pig’s Arms and kassler. Cheers 🙂

  63. Venise Alstergren

    Dear fellow Dogonauts: Esp The ‘Shoe, Burnside’s hapless slave, Mike Jones, Paddy, Zut, and everyone else.

    When, oh when is the elephantine slowness of time, will a certain Jack Russell be back in front of his ¡Pad, and in Tierra Oz?

    Walnut is disgusted by my idling with intent.

    I wish there was a Pig’s Arms near me.

    And more on that theme.



  64. zut alors


    Only five more sleeps to go until Mr Onthemoon returns – actually four if you’re already slumbering as I type this.

    Courage, Dogonauts! Hang in there.

  65. Sandshoe

    Thank you ZUT ALORS!!

    DOGONAUTS: sparkey (sparks wanted it like that … ‘lower case always is the rule’) was my own sweet pussy. I have a snap and I keep it in my purse. I just think to mention, following on from where I @ SANDSHOE had to fly because a champion was called for.

    Venise! I hear them sometimes going past on their way home from The Pig’s Arms! Wee wee wee!

  66. zut alors


    Re Kassler: thank god Vienna didn’t look like that when I was there – the quality of statues now appears to be in decline. You didn’t happen to cross paths with Kommisar Rex in your travels?


    Whilst using this old blog one can’t help feeling like a squatter gratefully seeking shelter in disused premises. We faithful Dogonauts have been reduced to a social underclass for a fortnight. Hardly fair treatment for those who comprise the backbone of Crikey. I sense the stirrings of revolt – must be getting a tad close to Bastille Day.

  67. Venise Alstergren

    ‘SHOE: Do the last three words of your last communication refer to…

    1) A general noise of jollity?

    2) Three words indicating approval of some, unmentioned proposal?

    3) An action derived from getting pissed, and done on the way home from The Pig’s Arms?

    Ciao baby ‘shoe.

    ZUT: Thanks for the info.

    Cheers V

  68. zut alors

    Re Burnside, the Adelaide suburb: there were no cats in my street (the king brown snakes had taken care of that).

    One day there was almighty drama when an uninvited snake slithered into a neighbour’s kitchen – she saw it disappear behind the dishwasher. The task was then to co-ordinate a plumber and a snake-catcher to pay house calls simultaneously. We know how hard it is to pin down a plumber to a precise time but imagine

    1. finding a plumber who was willing to take the risk
    2. arranging his visit to time exactly with the even more popular snake-catcher.

    Fun in the foothills.

  69. wagwak

    Zut Alors, Venise, Mike Jones et al

    Burnside states that A blog is only as old as its Posts….and while the Dog is away the Cats will play…Walnut understands, as does Jasper who started this all…

    He is most pleased that a musical band features his name although it is in cold old Canberra and not cold old Perth where he resides currently with his anthropologist servant and mad Jack Russel-X sister Orey and two human male children whose personal smells make his tail twitch and eyes darken.

    Burnside wants everyone to know that last night he licked a pot of fish roe clean, had some foie gras on lime and black pepper wafers and watched to aquarium fish is Zen-like peace. His servant, meanwhile, ate baked beans on toast and drank shots of johnny walker black.

    He may be a Cat without Balls but he is a Ballsy Cat.

  70. wagwak


    Imagine the plumber also being a snake catcher! What would be the odds…Mind you, Adelaide is known for its unusual human inhabitants…

  71. zut alors

    A snake-catching plumber? – that’s what I’d call a specialised trade.

  72. Meski

    He’d wear this:


    I get some really odd looks wearing this.

  73. zut alors


    On average King Browns probably cause less trouble.

  74. Venise Alstergren

    ZUT: What happened when the two fused together?

    One of the more revolting arachnids I’ve come across in my far-flung travels is The Bird Eating Spider. It looks more like a spider than a bird, but that’s not the point.

    The point being that they, together with the giant tarantula of Amazonian Brasil, Ecuador, Bolivia and Colombia, hang around river banks waiting for the unwary traveller.

    In fact, the dinner- plate sized giant tarantula (never believe the cold hearted facts delivered with magnificent impartiality in encylopaedias.) When you come across a group of these sensitive creatures hanging, by their delicate feet, and clustered together on the bow of your canoe; believe me they are dinner-plate sized.

    As you leap from the river-bank into the canoe your peripheral vision will pick up the view of dinner-plate sized tarantulas all scrambling to get into the canoe as well, and at the same time as you.

    This is your cue to convince them it is a bad idea. Ho ho ho ho, ho!
    You can use a cap to scoop them up, or the paddle to clack against the sides of the canoe to frighten them. Or faint! (Who moi?)

    Its cousin, the Ecuadorian bird eating spider, waits with arachnid cunning on the floor of your-I don’t know what you’d call them-sort of a plank floor and enough wooden struts to support a ton of mosquito netting-room. Grab a broom, of which there will be many, and start sweeping the beasties out the door. Psst, ignore the ones coming in the same place.

    Of course there are many up-market touristy places without the accompanying arachnids, but I always struggle for money and authenticity.

    Like the bum-boat I found myself travelling from Chonqing to Wuhan. Nah! Not that bad, and it’s another story.

  75. Venise Alstergren

    WAG’: I think I accidentally left on my computer today. ‘Cos when I came back home Walnut was definitely miffed. Puzzled I followed her around for a bit, but all I got was a swish across the face with a feather-like tail.

    Finally I worked out her problem. She had been reading your post and seen the insanely rich diet of Burnside! “Why”, she asked petulantly, “Don’t you provide a similar banquet for me?”

    Then she added cattily “Why doesn’t the baked-bean eating slave give him croque-en-bouche for dessert?”

    A question to which I had no answer, except to say “Darling, Burnside’s teeth may not be at the Vet-eating strength as yours”.

    The subtlety escaped her.

  76. Meski


    Don’t click if pictures of spiders freak you out.

    The comment down the page from Ben (quoting David Wong) is kind of funny.

  77. Venise Alstergren

    MESKI: It’s a great T-shirt!

  78. Sandshoe

    Buzz has not been about for so long I wonder-truly-did she return to Sydney and shack up with that elephant at Taronga Zoo.

    I could not help but have read implication, @BUZZ, Buzz arrived in time in Sydney to meet and greet at the Zoo as well as gourmandise* with a mate and was impressed with the elephant.

    Friends can refer to these things nicely. An old neighbour’s old mother told me there is no such thing as an idle moment or idle gossip. Methinks Buzz charmed** the elephant.

    Rather like I think George Bernard S. I favour fanciful entremets*** whether entremets are societally regarded as trifle or extravaganza.

    (Whisper) I admit. I impress myself I understood the antecedent and medieval use of the word, entremet, I am not all that old and cold.

    VENISE: I have to run. Will jot a wee note very soon, dear love.


    * Brillat-Savarin (1755-1826) … in The physiology of taste … has suggested gourmandise was, erroneously, previously ‘described as a sort of confusion of gluttony and voracity’. He was no fool regardless born on an April Fool’s Day and yes, that is voracity not veracity!

    ** ibid. I quote from Jean Anthelme’s Note of a Patriot Gastronomer included in the same text:
    “I observe with pride, that gourmandise and coquettery, the two great modifications which society has effected in our imperious wants, are both of French origin.”

    ***Reddon, Saban, and Serventi seem experts on the contextual significators of entremets by the way. Google: entremets definition+confusing. Proceed if you will. Gorge on the opening pronouncements of their chapter titled ‘Entremets, Fritters and Golden Bread Treats’.

  79. Sandshoe

    EVERYBODY: I believe I should save you time and offer (thinking of Buzz at the Zoo) Brillat-Savrain’s text below, which is extract from A Lady Gourmand

    Nothing is more pleasant than to see a pretty woman, her napkin well placed under her arms, one of her hands on the table, while the other carries to her mouth, the choice piece so elegantly carved. Her eyes become brilliant, her lips glow, her conversation is agreeable and all her motions become graceful. With so many advantages she is irresistible, and even Cato, the censor, would feel himself moved.

    See? My logic?

    Venise, I promise I will answer. signed baby ‘shoe. 😉

  80. Ern Malleys cat


    EMC Management & Media Manipulation announces the launch of the new force in Australian politics.
    Tired of the same old non-choices? Disappointed by the major parties’ lurch to the unfunny?
    Then FCOL come on and join the newest and most roflsome political party on the block.
    The First Dog Party will be running candidates for the Senate in the upcoming Australian election. Senior Political Advisor Ern Malleys-Cat will lead the NSW ticket, with further candidates to be advised. Running mates and donations welcome.
    Campaign material can be viewed at: http://twitpic.com/23evhw

  81. Venise Alstergren

    ‘SHOE: I thought a Gourmand = A glutton?
    And that a Gourmet=a lover of food?



  82. Buzz

    I’m here! Had a good time in Sydney – fed and watered at the Centennial and Woollahra hotels (Sandshoe’s description was, of course, spot on!) and spent way too much money in the shops down Oxford St. The new mascara didn’t smudge this time despite crying with laughter at one point.

    Canberra has been an anti-climax ever since. The only other event of any note has been achieving 200 sit-ups at the gym tonight. That’s my limit though – limited by boredom rather than energy.

    I’m bored.

    Am off to Adelaide for a long weekend soon. As a previous dweller of the city of churches I’m allowed to say that returning to Canberra afterwards will probably be quite exciting. For 5 minutes.

    Come home Dog!!

  83. Sandshoe

    BUZZ: I am so pleased to know you are sated, and as well I am impressed your mascara is now a good quality one you can wear underwater (leave 10 seconds blank for an animated and sponsored cartoon of a pen of wp* eyeliner offered *free* with a wand of wp* mascara RRP**).

    Look at the time of morning and it will be understood we are in the worst of advertising hours peopled by beautiful women like Elle and Delta and Delta and Delta.

    It is getting closer to the time I travel myself -when I go north from Adelaide to Queensland-in a ship of the sky. I travel so infrequently I have been granted all the infrequent flyer points.

    Regards “Gourmand” … no, Venise, it is mistakenly confused … as Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin described in some apt sentencing (spot the pun) delivered in ‘The physiology of taste’ and that published in 1825, a lovely piece of writing slavering to erect a defence of food as a motivator- of intelligence, frivolity, human work and sociable practices that include rumpy-pumpy if the imagination be employed. A gourmand is someone who enjoys gormandise, the state of eating well with intent to prosper from a significant consumption of appropriate foods.

    Regards “Gourmet” … the subtlety of distinction rests in the thinking and doing modes of the human animal, blessed as we are as sparkey used to say with nous (pronounced now-se).

    sparks was speaking of nous (pronounced now-se) filtered to employment in the english language from the greek that was nous or noos meaning mind or intellect. Not ‘nous’ (pronounced noo) as it is utilised in contemporary french meaning ‘we’, indicating all of us from whom a statement of relevance has emanated describing a collective feature, a notice of identity. Phewww… I like that.

    sparkey liked to say the difference between her and me was I knew where and how to dot tees and cross my eyes-I remember so well-and sparkey said that is truly having nous (remember, pronounced now-se and not noo), the little manx.

    Venise, a gourmet has a preoccupation with an idea of food itself that tends to dominate and drive an individual to eccentric predilections and beliefs that can become dangerously entrenched e.g. lead to their spending large sums on magazines that are heavy to lift and impossible to read under an electric light because of the glare from the high gloss paper of their pages, but feature attractive photographs of e.g.

    1. strawberries strewn in seeming indolent abandon across shallow white china plates on rough timber tops in cottages in France.

    2. mushrooms in baskets abandoned on grass in a rude field where in the distance is an implied outline of cottages in France.

    3. bustling wharves of fishmongers and buyers jostling for position under white canvas awnings trimmed with green under blue skies heralding summer to follow spring next to discrete advertisements for rental cottages in France.

    And so on. Cut work textiles from market stalls in Uttar Pradesh. A recipe on another page for Zamin Doz Macchli and a photograph of it, i.e. a fish stuffed with spices and cooked sealed in earthenware. So provocatively upright in their behaviour, stands of okra gleaming green and pendulous purple eggplant like bulbous breasts hanging free.

    A Gourmet thinks more and more obsessively about food and budgeting for magazines with ‘Gourmet’ in their title and cutting out forms to send away for free pamphlett recipes to win cookware and visiting Maggie Beer’s place that is very nice.

    A Gourmand eats with balanced good humour the best of food in sufficient quantity to develop a robust appetite with robust result.

    I am a mere contemporary interpreter. I have followed Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin.

    @VENISE: Regards ‘wee wee wee’ … about which you asked earlier.

    Would you believe it! I heard an astrophysicist repeat ‘wee’ three times exactly as I had written it, I assumed at first as a caution, to his colleagues to take care with their gamma ray telescope he and colleagues were loading into the boot of a car-at Alice Springs somewhere-after the failure of the launch of their balloon intended to carry it high enough to observe protons colliding with electrons and releasing gamma rays in the adjacent vicinty to black holes.

    I saw it on last night’s Catalyst programme on the ABC!

    The expression in that context might not have been caution. It might have been ‘wee, wee, wee’ expressive of relief he and his collegaues had completed their (incredibly inefficient it appeared) trek carting the housing of the telescope from its crash site for its mundane transport back to base after its carriage with balloon aloft and scudding out of control rapidly descended and smashed to smithereens a four-wheel drive while operators and astrophysicists if not all one and the same ran willy nilly as if widderwhins in the Outback. I have no other words to describe what I saw, but swear it, Venise, someone of them and I think it was Eric Bellm who appeared to be the man, uttered ‘Wee, Wee, Wee’. Unavoidably wordy it sounded.

    I? Still overwhelmed by how incredibly stupid the accident seemed, how much it likely cost how miraculous it could be regarded that no lives were lost! And its outcome! Wee Wee Wee!

    I sought and played the video overly so I could check my eyes and ears had not deceived me.

    Regarding the choices for ‘wee wee wee’ you have given me, Venise, I will say all of them and any more that perhaps an astrophysicist could be called on to explain. 😐

    *wp = waterproof, **RRP = reccommended retail price *** and one little piggy cried wee wee wee all the way home

  84. Venise Alstergren

    ‘SHOE: Thanks for the information. I got my info from my French dictionary, but your description has a much greater reality. A better feel, as it were.

    I’m feeling nauseous. I’ve just eaten two large muffins. 😈 😯 😯

    What does that make me? Apart from being bloody stupid? 😥 😥 😥

    I wonder what will happen now? :sob: :sob: :sob: trouble is one has to enter it to find out.

    I think I’ve ruined my dinner…..:cool: I think? ❓ ❓ ❓

    What a disjointed screed of words…:sigh: :sigh: :sigh:

    My tummy feels as tight as a tick. :roll: :roll:

    Sorry to land you with my special effects, and I think I’ve wound down.

    See ya. 😉 😉 😎

  85. wagwak

    I spent 2 years doing fieldwork in Zimbabwe i a remote village…I can attest that Bird Eating spiders reside there as well and it wasn’t fun laying in a camp bed at night under a parafin lamp watching them scuttle around the wall of the hut catching insects attracted to the light…almost as scary were the bivowacs of red meat ants moving in search of food…

    Burnside is a Gourmand, in the same vein as Mr Creosote in Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life”…at 8 kgs he’s a testament to the love of food…his teeth are white and strong but, unlike Walnut, chooses not to bite The Vet.

    Ern Malley’s Cat…I hear the NSW Right often conducts coups in dark, dank places (under stages, drains, Upper North Shore residences…..Purrrrfect locations for the new force in PoliTICKS…..

  86. Venise Alstergren

    WAG’: How very interesting! I must Google arachnids to see if both Bird Eating Spiders are of the same size and the same dreaded purpose.

    I came across the Colonel Fawcett classic “Exploration Fawcett” Journey to the Lost
    City of Z” The original was printed in 1953 and reprinted in 2001. I have the reprint.

    It’s all about his travels in Brasil, Peru and Bolivia-in the Matto Grosso in search of Eldorado. I’m sure this book is you, and The ‘Shoe. The thick Amazonian jungle-well it was then-ultimately claimed his life.
    Many of the descriptions make one wonder what it was he was putting in his pipe, and smoking at the time.

    One of his suns started an airline company called Fawcett Airlines-on which I have flown. Now, get ready to throw one of Burnside’s toys at me. But, I speak the truth. I lost my original copy in the Amazonian Forest in Ecuador. Or was it in the Ecuadorian plane which had to fly in to collect us?

    I can’t imagine a Russian Blue being eight kilos. I thought they were built like a Siamese cat.

    Walnut can’t believe it either. Herself tips the scales at 7.5 kilos and I think she thought that she was one of the biggest felines in the business. Just a minute…Yes Walnut? Ah! She enquires whether or not Burnside will be eating Caviar again tonight.
    I don’t know, Walnut, nor do I think it is fitting for me to enquire. Anyway, I’m totally pissed with you. Fancy getting up on my desk and crossing this keyboard, only to delete eighty e-mails. No, you didn’t do it on purpose but that doesn’t stop me from being pissed at your behaviour.

    She is asleep now and lying on an exotic duvet, which, in turn, is on a couch covered by a Persian rug.

    My respects to Burnside, ‘Night.

    Venise 😎 very 😎

  87. Venise Alstergren

    Erratum..One of his suns, should read one of his sons. Unsurprisingly.

  88. Mike Jones

    FM and I went to see Banksy’s doco “Exit through the Gift Shop” tonight. Hilarious. Profound. Probably a total rip-off. A must-see ! The complete lesson in exploitation 🙂

  89. Sandshoe

    I turned the corner of a deserted street close to the inner city in Auckland in New Zealand one early hour of the new day after a midnight in late summer, 1988 and for the first time learned of the message written in giant graffitti on a depot wall illuminated by a street light ahead of me and otherwise only a mix of dark shadows all around and black gloom:

    “S A V E T H E G A Y W H A L E”.

    Tonight I have been watching trailer’s of Banksy’s doco. It looks wonderful.

  90. Mike Jones

    Hi ‘shoe. Good graffiti (or should I say “street art”) improves with age.

    Later they managed to offend more punters (and encapsulate another of the mainstream activist movements) with “Land rights for gay whales”.

    FM and I argued about / discussed the Banksy movie all the way home and on and off the next day. We seem to be at odds over who really was the director and who was the protagonist and whether Thierry was ripping off the whole genre and whether either or both of them were taking the piss out of the public in general , the audience at the movie or both. Thierry was a riot from the outset. Hilarious, but not the sort of chap one might feel comfortable to lend a quid.

    Must be good.

  91. Sandshoe

    VENISE: Dear Venise how I worry when you sound bloated. It would have passed by now, I trust.

    @VENISE>WAGWAK: Dears! Talking about Bird Eating Spiders. I love those. Except they eat birds. One attempted to eat my husband and children who all escaped uneaten in the jungle in North Queensland. I think.

    Funny that is referred to as FNQ by some tourist operators, don’t you sometimes think? It is not far if one/they live/s there is it? Only, say, considering there from Near Victoria or Near Southern Australia.

    EMM (MIKE JONES): Thierry was easier with money than getting it might be if he … well … asked you for a loan seeing as you saw the flick, eh? I’ll take that anyway as thank you for thinking about asking, but not today ‘shoe. (So intuitive. I was only wondering if I could have a couple of bucks for a carton of milk to tide me over.)

    Land rights for gay whales, eh? That is, in fact, what that giant graffiti scrawled on that (huge) wall said. It was a seminal moment. (I wondered when I wrote that @SANDSHOE – SAVE THE GAY WHALES – why it sounded suddenly lame compared with then 😐 😎 😳 oops:

    First Dog is coming home! I consulted a fortune teller at a market on the weekend. 🙂

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