Announcing the arrival of Princess Sheeba Holmes Thiefeater Wee.

I don't feed her. I anticipate her royal highness will grow fat on the stream of bogan reprobates that try to rip off my place, like that housing trust bitch and her little spawn that 'accidentally' found their way into my lounge-room - through my fly screen.

In the meantime, it's a matter of enduring neighbours who complain about her barking. One such idiot put a note on my fence AFTER ONLY 3 HOURS saying "Shut your dog up or we will report you."

It whisked me back to fond memories of arriving in Australia to find everybody ignorant, intolerant, and eager to meddle in my affairs. It takes two months for the coppers to track down the slag that invades my home, but keep a barking dog or water my garden incorrectly and it's boots through my door at midnight.

In a fit of self-control (because I'm a repressed Asian that just 'takes' being tea-bagged by white folk) I tore up the note and stuck it back on my fence. A message rich in Oriental subtlety: "Touch my fence again and I will break your fingers."

"And feed them to my widdle Princess. Aww, who's a good girl?"

Good girl!