Northwest Arkansas Democrat-Gazette
Otus the Head Cat
Costumes for pets? No! Never! Never!
Dear Mr. Smarty Pants,
I’ve been reading your column every single week since we moved to Arkansas in the early ’80s and have yet to find anything remotely amusing or informative in it. In fact, most of the time I find you insufferably smug and condescending.
I’m writing to implore you to spare us your annual Halloween column about dressing our dogs up for Halloween. Both Butch and Sundance love to put on costumes and nothing you can say will change that.
You do not have my permission to use my name. Just sign me “Name Withheld.” — Name Withheld,
Bentonville
Dear Ms. Withheld,
Or may I call you Name? It was wholly a pleasure to hear from you — not because you obstinately fly in the face of logic and common decency, but because you confess to being a loyal reader for the past 35 years or so. That makes you special despite yourself.
I consider all my readers special. Most are articulate, discerning, intelligent, caring human beings able to discern the reality about them and act in a manner that inspires their fellow travelers.
And, of course, I even appreciate those who disagree, no matter how misguided and intransigent they are.
However, it is incumbent upon me and my Head Cat oath to remind responsible pet owners this time of year that their beloved furry family members do not enjoy dressing up in costumes. Not ever. Not even in a Donald Trump costume, which seems to be a hot item this year. (Blond wig comes with necktie — $12.75 on Amazon.)
As is the wolf from which they sprang, your pooches are pack animals and you are the alpha dog in their pack. They would do most anything you asked to curry your favor and maintain their places in the household hierarchy.
They would debase and humiliate themselves. They would slavishly drool, wag their tails and perform stupid pet tricks if you asked them.
In reality, your pets loathe being dressed up. If they could express themselves freely, Butch and Sundance would tell you in no uncertain terms what you could do with the little cowboy hats and bandanas you insist they wear every Halloween.
From the photo you emailed, I see Butch is a pomchi and Sundance is a puggle. My guess is that Sundance hates his faux moustache as much as the costume.
Let me admonish you that it is not too late to change your aberrant ways. There is a special bolgia reserved in the Eighth Circle of hell for those who indulge in anthropomorphism.
The ditch of stone lies just beyond the one reserved for panderers and seducers and just ahead of that for the barrators who commit vexatious litigation and are immersed in a lake of boiling pitch.
All the eternally condemned anthropomorphites are dressed as garden gnomes. A terrible fate, but I suppose it is better than those who must tread forever the miasmic muck of the Stygian marsh for having the hubris to treat their pets as surrogate children.
Your pets are dogs — four-legged, fur-coated, lick themselves dogs. They are not children.
Your pets are boon companions, a symbiotic service provided for the relatively inexpensive cost of food and water and the occasional trip to the vet.
It is the most egregious example of species hauteur and conceit for you to subject another sentient creature to the humiliation of wearing any sort of outfit, let alone a Halloween costume, for your amusement.
I submit photographic evidence of my assertion. The offender shall remain anonymous, but note she has dressed her dog as the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz and, to compound her sins, she has dressed her grandchild in a dog costume.
That’s just twisted. The hopelessly confused dog is bonding with the small child by rubbing noses. That’s messy. For both.
I will reiterate this only once. Your dogs, being canines, may behave as if they are enjoying wearing costumes, but they are not happy. The onus is on you. Nobody wants an onus on themselves.
You’ll notice that I have not mentioned putting costumes on cats. That’s because the vast majority of cats would never submit to such nonsense. Try to dress up a cat for Halloween, and you’ll pull back a bloody nub.
Until next time, Kalaka reminds you that it may not be today, it may not be tomorrow or next week, but one of these days horrendous feline retribution shall descend upon cat costumers with the wrath of a thousand harpies.
Disclaimer
Fayetteville-born Otus the Head Cat’s award-winning column of Z humorous fabrication X appears every Saturday. E-mail: mstorey@arkansasonline.com