Dogs and the African Famine Scandal

One trend that has come about - predominantly due to the plethora of bad channels on Sky, and the subsequently low cost advertising these channels offer - is the 'Charity Advertisement' or Charad as those in the TV sector laughingly call these 30 second low-cost low-budget fillers. For the avid consumer of 1970s sitcom reruns it does mean a few minutes of begging every 15 minutes, but that's the ultimate price of poor quality programming.

The other day, whilst awaiting the second half of Never the Twain (or some such other twaddle), I had what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity. The first advert was for the National Canine Defence League, and featured a dog called Charlie, who told me about his friend Benjie, who had been shoved in a bin. Now, I'm not a dog person, apart from when in Viet Nam (I do love a bit of Thit Cay), so I wasn't really that bothered. Maybe that's why I saw right through it; because I wasn't washed away on a tide of empathy. Anyway, Charlie wanted me to adopt one of his mates, and donate £3 each month to look after him.

First off, my reaction was, 'Bugger me, a talking dog'. I figured that a talking dog was certainly a prize asset, and as such could be a good money earner. Why did he need my cash? Still, what then happened amazed me. He told me that in exchange for my £3 per month, the dog I adopted would write me a letter. 

Hang on there; put a talking dog together with a dog that writes letters, and what do you have? That's right - a business! These dogs certainly didn't need my cash. If anything, I thought about tapping them up for a loan.

As I pondered their bare-faced cheek (well, hairy-faced, but you get the drift), the next advert started; yet another Charad. This one urged me to adopt a small child from Africa. If I paid the agreed sum, he too would write me a letter. Okay, there's nothing stunning about a child that can talk and write letters, but the deal was very similar to Charlie's proposition.

The cost? £2 a month. So, the child was £2 per month, and the dog was £3 per month. Then it hit me!

I'd bet a significant chunk of cash that the dogs take my £3, then give the African kid £2 and tell him to sign the letters 'Charlie'. They then pocket the spare £1 and do sweet FA but rake it in.

Now, imagine the shock if your adopted dog arranges a visit, and when you answer the door there's a small black child with a typewriter!

Maybe that's why Benjie ended up in the bloody bin!