Taco & Ben: How Malta’s talking Shiba Inu and his interrupting owner became the island’s favourite satire
**Watch: Living with a talking dog and a man who interrupts exams – the Maltese TikTok duo taking the island by storm**
A talking Shiba Inu with opinions on ħobż biż-żejt and a human who gate-crashes University of Malta lectures to ask whether dogs should get stipends too: welcome to the chaotic, cult-hit world of *Taco & Ben* – the Valletta flatmates who’ve turned everyday Maltese absurdity into 1.2 million followers and counting.
The premise is disarmingly simple. Ben Camilleri, 27, a part-time IT support worker, straps a GoPro to his forehead and live-streams “a day in the life of the only dog who pays VAT”. Taco, a three-year-old rescue from Gozo, ‘speaks’ via a voice-modulating collar that translates his barks into heavily-accented Maltese. The result? Sketches that feel like *Bake Off* meets *Bayn* in the middle of Strait Street at 2 a.m.
In the clip that broke local WhatsApp last week, Ben sneaks Taco into an Accounting 1 exam at the Msida campus. While invigilators argue in hushed Maltese about whether “a dog with a student card” constitutes academic fraud, Taco barks the correct journal entry for deferred tax assets. The 45-second reel has racked up 430k views, 2,000 shares and one official apology from KSU, who blamed “an over-zealous fresher with a laminator”.
KSU humour aside, the stunt has sparked a genuine debate on campus. “We’re discussing mental-health breaks during exam season,” education officer Maria Pace told *Hot Malta*. “If a sarcastic Shiba helps students breathe, maybe we need more creative pressure valves.” Lecturers are less amused: the Rector’s office is reportedly drafting a “no quadrupeds” policy, prompting Taco’s merchandising team (yes, he has one) to print hoodies that read *‘Quadruped and Proud’*.
Offline, the pair have become unlikely folk heroes. Tour guides in Mdina now run *Taco Trails* – a walking route that visits the exact spot where the dog barked “*Mela!*” at a British tourist who asked if Malta was in Italy. Sales of Shiba Inus from licensed breeders jumped 38 % last quarter, prompting Animal Welfare to issue a pre-Christmas plea: “A dog is for life, not for likes.”
Crucially, the humour is rooted in Maltese self-deprecation. Episodes riff on power cuts, *festa* fireworks terrify Taco into hiding in the *gallarija*, and Ben’s nanna scolds the dog for not liking *bigilla*. International followers lap it up. Comments range from “Why does the dog sound like my taxi driver from 1998?” to “This island is chaos and I must visit” – free tourism PR money can’t buy.
Economists have noticed. “Influencer activity tied to national identity is worth an estimated €4 million in brand value this year,” says Stephanie Xuereb from MEUSAC. “When Taco chews a *pastizz* on camera, Google searches for ‘cheap flights Malta’ spike 11 % within six hours.” Even MTA is courting the duo for its winter campaign, provided the dog wears a reversible *peacoat* – Maltese flag on one side, EU stars on the other.
But local success brings local scrutiny. Some viewers argue that interrupting exams mocks students under genuine stress. Others detect class satire: Ben still lives in a rented *garġġen* flat; Taco’s collar costs more than his monthly water bill. “We’re not laughing at education,” Ben counters in a rare serious Instagram story. “We’re laughing at the bureaucracy that makes education harder than it needs to be.”
For now, the show rolls on. Next week Taco will allegedly deliver a pizza to Parliament, bark-ordering MPs to declare a national *tnemnem* hour. Whatever your take, the duo has tapped into a very Maltese truth: if you can’t fix the queue at Mater Dei, at least let the dog comment on it.
**Conclusion:** In a country where political satire traditionally happens over *ħobż* and *Kinnie*, Taco & Ben have moved the national conversation to TikTok – proving that, even in 2024, the quickest way to a Maltese heart is through a laughing dog who understands our collective frustration and still wants a *te fit-tazza* afterwards. Just don’t let him near your ACCA textbook.
