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Dear Pretty Pretty Princess Meow Meow Jawsy Jaws,
Summer is almost here, which also means the bane of many canines: fireworks. The noise of these infernal devices is enough to plunge a puppy into a state of almost human anxiety! Do you have any suggestions on what my human can do to prepare for fireworks season?
My very dear PP,
First, rest assured that you are not alone. While as felines we are largely immune to the terror and psychological stress associated with fireworks, many pets are not. Every year, health officials receive tens of thousands of reported cases of fireworks-associated nervous breakdowns, as well as fireworks-related injuries, including at least 7,323 incidents of dogs bumping into each other. head against walls during panicked “fight or flight” efforts. to escape.
The Global Goldfish and Koi Conglomeration have also alleged that they are seeing significant annual loss of their limbs due to sonic booms through the bowl water (no credible earth science agency has been able to substantiate these claims. to , We suggest caution in accepting their claims).
Most pet governing bodies have long considered the use of pyrotechnics to be a form of psychological warfare and the primary cause of PeTSD. Unfortunately, while they were specifically banned in the United Pet Nation’s 1977 Pet Rights Treaty, hairless bipedal nations have yet to do so.
Fireworks are part of bipedal life. They bring joy to humans, spark wonder in their young, and tend to their base “Let’s blow the shit up!” instincts in a relatively harmless way. Given this, we suggest you ask your humans to make sure there are safe spaces in your home where you can retreat during fireworks season. Above all, there should be several: we suggest one per room to maximize a quick escape. Under beds, in tubs for large canines, and other spaces are easily accommodated. Additionally, some research suggests that a COAT OF THE SKY GODDESSES (commonly referred to by bipeds as “thundershirts”) may have a calming effect on canids. As this has the added benefit of toying with your silly and embarrassing doggy nature, we wholeheartedly support wearing them.
— Pretty Pretty Princess Meow Meow Jawsy Jaws
Humans, barrooms and you
And now we would like to address a long-time import issue for New Orleans bipeds and pets: sea bass etiquette. New Orleans humans love bars. They will sit in it for hours. After a few hours indoors, even the most uncoordinated biped will feel like a dancer, spending entire nights fidgeting like two canines covered in peanut butter.
In many ways, these bars are their places of worship (although what kind of god wastes his time with such hairless, two-legged monstrosities is beyond us). It is therefore predictable that they would bring their pets to such a critical human gathering space in an effort to demonstrate their importance and closeness to true divinity.
The first and most obvious rule for going to a bar is to establish a dominant position. This is where most dogs, due to their creepy nature and preoccupation with receiving human praise, usually fail. Many bars in New Orleans keep a stock of dog treats (though there’s nothing for their cats, miniature horses, birds, and snakes, which is frankly quite insulting). And while we understand they’re delicious, we nevertheless urge our canine friends to exercise restraint for once.
“Every time I walk into a new bar, I like to hop on the main altar (uncreatively called ‘the bar’ by humans),” says John Mayer, a Bywater resident and director of studies on bipeds at Purrlane University.
“First, I’ll walk slowly along its length, stopping occasionally to sniff at random objects the high priest or priestess has placed in front of the gathered supplicants,” Mayer explains.
Mayer, who takes her human Jennifer Callan to several local bars, including J&J’s and BJ’s, stresses that those early moments are key to a successful bar date. And while readers of larger dogs and miniature horses may be concerned with the logistics of mounting the altar, we assure you humans will find it “lovely” and “hilarious” and will pay for any damage to their saints. relics by your laughable tails.
“Maintaining your dignified air of superiority and distance at this point is essential,” Mayer says, noting that while for the most noble species it’s part of our nature, the rest of Petdom should just “act as a cat”.
Once you’ve successfully established yourself as the Supreme, you’re pretty much in control of the place, at which point you can then demand treats, scratches, and other worship from bipeds.
However, a word of warning: never, under any circumstances, accept a “drink” from a human that is not your own. “Buying a drink” has long been part of human mating rituals. Drinking alcohol allows two or more rutting bipeds to suspend the (understandable) self-loathing of their grotesque hairless forms long enough to woo each other.
We realize that sounds weird, because for pets, it’s a simple question of “Are we going to fuck?” and once everyone answers in the affirmative, it’s out of the race. But humans are a strange, self-aware bunch. Either way, these “drinks” are not suitable for the digestive system of pets, and any human being who attempts to give you one must not only be trusted, but must also have enough claw marks to never try again.
As the wise ape philosopher The Lawgiver once said, “Beware of the beast-man, for he is the devil’s pawn.”