Mad Dog Catcher

In the old days, wild dogs roamed freely over the land. They trampled crops, devoured livestock, attacked anyone who ventured outside, and even broke into houses to terrorize the inhabitants. Clearly, something had to be done. And it was.

The people came together and passed the Dog Laws. All dogs had to have masters. None could wander loose. When appearing in public, a dog had to be accompanied by its master. Furthermore, it had to be on a leash and muzzled. All dogs had to have their shots, and unscooped poop was prohibited. Mad dogs were to be euthanized without delay. And enforcement of the Dog Laws was to be entrusted to a public servant called the Mad Dog Catcher. Very few of the dogs he had to deal with were actually mad, but the public feared mad dogs most of all, so the dogcatcher's function was generally thought to be mad dog control.

The Dog Laws were a resounding success. The great majority of the canine population was brought to heel. There were, of course, exceptions. The most notable of those was Tom the Mad Rottweiler. Tom did all the things the wild dogs of old were notorious for. Tom was unvaccinated. Tom was a reckless and prolific pooper. He roamed at will, masterless, leashless, and muzzleless. Some said clueless, as well, but that was not a crime under the Dog Laws.

In the days of Tom the Mad Rottweiler, the Mad Dog Catcher was a rather colorless fellow named Ronnie. Ronnie the Mad Dog Catcher may have been short in the charisma department, but he took his job seriously. So when Ronnie spotted Tom swaggering down the street unsupervised, foaming at the mouth, and snapping at everyone in sight, Ronnie quickly slapped a net over Tom and hauled him to the pound.

"You'll never get away with this!" yowled Tom. "This is an unprovoked partisan attack! You're picking on me because I'm a Rottweiler!"

"Nope," said Ronnie.

"Sure, you are!" snarled Tom. "Look! Over there, in that other cage! Tell me that isn't another Rottweiler!"

"Of course, it's a Rottweiler," said Ronnie. "It was wandering the streets, just like you were. Not as vicious and obnoxious, of course. But in violation of the Dog Laws, none the less. Of course, I also have a dozen Dobermans, four or five Pit Bulls, and more mutts than I can count."

"You've always had it in for Rottweilers!" Tom insisted. "I'm innocent! I will be exonerated!"

"You were in violation of the Dog Laws," said Ronnie. "You were walking the streets without a master. Do you deny that?"

"I don't need no master!" barked Tom. "I am the master!"

"You weren't on a leash," said Ronnie.

"I'll decide who needs to be leashed!" snapped Tom.

"You didn't have a muzzle," said Ronnie.

"I am the muzzler!" Tom retorted.

"You were leaving great piles of poop wherever you walked," said Ronnie.

"My poop don't stink!" said Tom.

"You were terrorizing all the passers-by," Ronnie reminded him.

"As is my right and privilege!" snarled Tom.

"You're a probable rabid," said Ronnie. "You were foaming at the mouth. And still are."

"Oh, that's normal for me," said Tom.

"You in multiple violation of the Dog Laws," said Ronnie.

"None of that applies to me," growled Tom. "You're picking on me because I'm a Rottweiler. It's no crime to be a Rottweiler!"

Ronnie just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"Just wait!" roared Tom. "I'll break you! I'll have my bitches produce a TV spot saying you're the mad dog."

"I'm the Mad Dog Catcher," said Ronnie. "You're the mad dog."

"Yeah, but my bitches will say that you're the mad dog. They can even use some footage of me barking and foaming, and imply that it's you. Or they can say you're the Mad Dogcatcher instead of the Mad Dog Catcher. Get it? And, of course, you're picking on me because I'm a Rottweiler."

"It's really a very simple case," said Ronnie. "You broke the law. Who's going to believe your outrageous lies?"

"Everybody," yipped Tom, wagging his tail. "People are idiots. I count on that."