Dogs aren't everyone's cup of tea. Sure. I get that. But how could you not adore their capacity for affection? Their profound understanding of human worries conveyed with just one brown-eyed blink?

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People like me have a name. We are DILDOs. At least that's how ACT senator David Pocock described his household, pre-baby. Double-income, little-dog owning.

My partner and I don't have kids. But we do have our little dog. He is our family. I can't compare dog ownership to parenthood. But I can tell you that the time, the cost and the horror is much more than I expected.

Ours is a teeny tiny Jack Russell. Mulder. He's two years old. Like all dogs, he needs to walk every day. Like all Jack Russells, he needs to walk about three times a day.

And it was during one of those walks Mulder was close by, on a lead, widdling, sniffing. Next minute, an unleashed what-looked-like-a-staffy is bounding towards us, teeth bared, raging. If dogs have body language, this dog's screamed anger. Anger and danger.

I picked up Mulder to try and keep him out of reach.

The dog latched on to Mulder's back legs while I was holding him.

I screamed, I swore, I kicked at the attacker.

My little Mulder was left bleeding. Puncture wounds in his leg, his rump, and his little face.

Finally, in what seemed like........

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