My life is sufficiently complicated without having to endure legal quandaries like the one in which I am currently embroiled.  Here are the facts:

After suffering numerous instances of Dad invading the sanctity of my dog house to remove objects that I placed there, I installed a video camera to record these acts of blatant theft.  Last week, I recorded Dad removing a bone from my abode.  I had worked diligently on the bone, orally crafting it to just the desired shape and texture.  He apparently felt that the bone was old and worn, so he took it, without any expressed or implied authorization from yours truly.  And although he replaced it with a new bone, what he had done was nevertheless a criminal act…recorded with digital clarity on my canine cam.

I love my dad, but he needed to be taught a lesson.  I don’t invade his underwear drawer and remove his briefs willy-nilly at my leisure (although I’ve given it serious thought), and I don’t expect any less of him.  So, I contacted the D.A. ( the Dachshund Attorney next door, who is actually not an attorney, but was paper trained with old copies of the bar journal, so he knows some things).  He informed me that my video of this heinous crime would be inadmissible in court because it was recorded in a place (bedroom of sorts) where there is a reasonable expectation of privacy.  And even though the video doesn’t lie about the crime, privacy rights trump the injustice that was clearly done.

But who’s privacy are we talking about here?  Mine!!  The D.A. says that doesn’t matter.  Even if I wanted to waive my privacy rights to prosecute my bone-stealing Dad, I cannot.  So, as the video is inadmissible, it would merely be my word against Dad’s.  With the judge and jury being non-dogs, the chances of conviction are as likely as Dad keeping his nose out of my dog house.

So, my privacy rights are protected, and Dad skates after committing a brazen home invasion in broad day light.  I lick my crotch in public…I don’t much care about my privacy rights.  But I do care about justice.  So, where the law has fallen woefully short, I am compelled to engage in vigil-aussie-ism.  Dad would be well advised to hide his underwear.  An eye for an eye,  and a brief for a bone.