Category Archives: Fang & Claw

How Much Is That Human in the Window?

Guest column by Esme Bowles

 

Who says humans have the collective wit of inbred gorillas?

Well, I have, to be honest. But while I was on my human’s computer last week (I log on when he’s away to write crank letters to Cat Fancy magazine), I came across a story I had trouble believing: The primates in Congress passed a bipartisan bill.

And what drew the embittered parties in the together? The House passed a law making it a felony to eat cats and dogs. Seriously.

The bill, called the Dog and Cat Meal Trade Prohibition Act, would make it illegal to “knowingly slaughter, transport, possess, buy, sell or donate dogs or cats or their parts for human consumption.” Violators would be fined up to $5,000.

At first, I was elated. That creepy neighbor down the street eyes me like a roasted suckling pig every time I pass.

But the more I read, the more horrified I became. The article went on to note that eating dogs and cats is legal in 44 states.

What the fuck, people? We spend millennia guarding your homes, guiding your blind, pee-hydrating your petunias, allowing you to watch us crap in public, and this is your gratitude? Promising not to sell McYorkies?

Then I got to thinking: What other ludicrous laws have you hominid dummies left on the books? This is just a sample:

  • 22. Bingo games cannot last more than 5 hours (North Carolina) Image result for funny bingo
  • 21. Chickens are not allowed to cross the road (Quitman, Georgia)
  • 20. If you cut down a cactus, you could be sentenced to 25 years in prison (Arizona)
  • 19. Policemen are allowed to bite a dog if they think it will calm the dog down (Paulding, Ohio)
  • 18. It’s illegal to sell your eyeballs (Texas)
  • 17. It’s against the law to sing off-key (North Carolina)
  • 16. You may not sell toothpaste and a toothbrush to the same customer on a Sunday (Rhode Island)
  • 15. You are not allowed to eat fried chicken any other way than using your hands (Gainesville, Georgia) Image result for fried chicken with silverware
  • 14. Marriage between cousins is against the law only if they are younger than 65 (Utah)
  • 13. Red cars may not drive down Lake Street (Minneapolis, Minnesota)
  • 12. It’s forbidden for a female to appear unshaven in public (Carrizozo, New Mexico)
  • 11. Bear wrestling matches are prohibited (Alabama) Not sure if that’s bear-on-bear or man-in-bear. Image result for bear wrestling
  • 10. You may not take a picture of a rabbit from January to April without an official permit (Wyoming)
  • 9 .You cannot buy meat of any kind on Sunday (Washington)
  • 8. It’s illegal to attend a public event or use public transport within 4 hours of eating an onions or garlic (Indiana) Image result for garlic breath
  • 7. In San Antonio, flirting is against the law (Texas)
  • 6. It’s illegal for a man to give his fiancé a box of candy that weighs more than 50 lbs (Idaho)
  • 5. A motorist with criminal intentions must stop at the city limits and telephone the chief of police as he is entering the town (Washington)
  • 4. If you are found stealing soap, you must wash yourself until the bar of soap has been completely used up (Arizona)
  • 3. If you have a mustache, it’s illegal for you to kiss a woman (Eureka, Nevada) Image result for mustached man
  • 2. It’s against the law for a woman to drive a car in Main Street unless her husband is walking in front of the car waving a red flag (Waynesboro, Virginia)
  • 1. You can be arrested or fined for harassing Bigfoot (Washington)

I’m hopeful the Senate will approve the bill and the president will act immediately (after all, he appears to like canines: He got nearly all the way through Clifford and the Grouchy Neighbors. Image result for Clifford and the Grouchy Neighbors

Still, you never know with the Senate. I’m guessing the bill will stall when Mitch McConnell demands that turtles be added to the list. Image result for mitch mcconnell and turtle

 

Let Me In So I Can Go Out

 

Pssst. Over here. KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN!

I’m secreted away in a bunker fortified by steel and wood. To be more specific, I’m in my home office with the door closed.

No matter. Esme still takes offense. For the dog of a writer, she seems to hate when I practice my craft. I guess that shouldn’t be surprising; she’s the first dog I’ve ever known to have a look of condescension. As if to say: Come on, simple human; you can do it. 

So it goes with my writing. She hates it. Or at least she refuses to be around when I’m attempting it.

And I’m not sure why. Perhaps I used to yell at the computer when I was struggling with a story. Or cursing the keyboard when the Mac froze.

Whatever the case, she hates to be around when she senses stress. Her big brother, Teddy, used to be a notorious ruiner. He’d chew on jeans til there was a hole the size of a softball. Shoes were simply the tenderloins of rawhides. He once chewed my wallet to pieces — along with all the cash inside.

So perceptive was she that she would leave the house the moment I awakened and walked into the living room — she knew the shock and awe of Teddy’s handiwork to come.

I’ve tried everything to soothe her nerves, to keep her comfortable on the couch: music, a space heater, four blankets and a pillow (I never said I was a logical dog owner).

No matter. When the keys are a’clackin, she gets to packin.

Like right now. She must have heard you reading and headed for the door. Thanks a lot.