We wanted to give an extreme makeover to our very notion of dogs. In keeping with the theme of this issue, we decided to reaffirm our allegiance to the wild animal kingdom by hunting down the most scruffy, free-spirited dog locked up in the New York City shelter system, busting him out, and taking him to a swanky Manhattan pet salon to get tricked out in the latest electropunk / nouveau-hippie style, kind of like if Devendra Banhart was a dog and he joined the Scissor Sisters. And tell me this: Have you ever once seen a cartoon dogcatcher that wasn’t a dick? Please. A lot of people will try to stick up for Animal Control, saying things like “they provide a coordinated system for maintaining uniform standards of health and hygiene in urban cats and dogs and handling animal-related emergencies” and “Ed Bochs, the new director of New York Animal Care and Control has revolutionized this city-instating a no-kill policy for the first time in its history,” but come on, folks, authority’s authority. Shit, I bet God himself spends most days just padding the pavement and letting ’em flop.Īs penance for its freedom, however, this most real segment of the dog population is forced to endure the constant threat of capture and coerced adoption. Fuckin’ getting by on his natural wits, answering to no one, crashing under the stars every night-this is the way life was meant to be. If there’s one enduring symbol of pure, off-the-grid living, it is most definitely the street dog.
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