Crotch Nuzzle: Is It Assault Or A Friendly Gesture?
The Age
Monday December 2, 2002
The Romans and countrymen were missing, but friends were everywhere. Almost enough for a few more episodes of the TV series. Steve Bracks continually addressed his audience as ``friends" in his victory speech on Saturday night, smiling like everybody's uncle. He was especially friendly with his deputy, John Thwaites, enveloping him in a bear-hug up on stage.
Looking on from a TV studio, former Labor leader John Brumby appeared somewhat left out. Nobody was hugging him. But, as if to offer reassurance, Steve Bracks told his listeners that not only did he and his cabinet colleagues work well together, they were also ``a good bunch of friends". Mr Brumby's hug would clearly come later.
So now we're into a new warm and fuzzy era in Victoria. Rancour is out; friendliness is in. This is wonderful, except that many people aren't comfortable with this sort of thing. I was at a function in Sydney the other evening; one of those occasions replete with awkward pauses when people approach and you're not sure whether to offer a hand to shake, a cheek to kiss, or if a full-on Bracks hug is in order. In short, just how friendly you should be.
But I was glad to be there, for it was in Sydney that I learnt about a court case with lessons for all of us in these uncertain times. The case concerned a sniffer dog trained by police to detect hidden drugs. Early last year, this particular dog (named Rocky) nosed out a quantity of cannabis and amphetamines carried by a young man (named Glen) outside a night club. Fair cop, guv'nor. Except that Glen's imaginative lawyer got his client off.
A deputy chief magistrate (Mary) accepted the argument put to her that Rocky's assiduous sniffing of his person and pockets represented an illegal trespass. So two counts of drug possession were dismissed. Police appealed; the case was heard in the NSW Supreme Court late last week. And this time the presiding Justice (Barry) demonstrated far more understanding of dogs' lack of respect for personal space.
Upholding the appeal, he declared that Rocky's ``olfactory sense merely enhances that of a police officer in the same way that a flashlight enhances the officer's sight". Showing commendable restraint, he did not respond directly to the proposition put by Glen's lawyer: ``If Your Honour were to do as this dog did and nuzzle the defendant's genitals, it would be an indecent assault."
But he made clear his conviction that there are different rules for dogs, declaring: ``When a `crotch nuzzle' . . . is performed by a dog in relation to a human being, it may be no more than a conventional, friendly, social gesture with no hostile intent and unlikely to constitute an assault."
As the owner of a mutt with imperfect manners - an aggrieved woman recently called him ``psycho dog" after he tried to round up her terrier, mistaking it for a sheep - I plan to keep a copy of this splendid judgment on hand at all times. Not just as an instant comeback to other dog people, but as a guide to life in this new Labor landscape.
We're all friends now. Kisses and hugs all round. And while I cannot advocate crotch nuzzles as a substitute for handshakes, the equivalent of enthusiastic tail-wagging is quite in order. So get to it. A lick and a lunge to start the day.
© 2002 The Age