University of Virginia Library

Commentary

Leash A Minority Of Your Choice

By DREW GARDNER

In light of the recent hubbub concerning dog leashes I
am compelled to release the following transcripts of a recent
meeting of the Board of Sitters. Though the emergency
meeting received a top security classification, my visceral
feeling for journalistic ethics necessitates this violation of
Board confidence.

It seems that the new leash-law on the Grounds is the
coercive consequence of a threatened law suit brought before
the Board by Anglo Whiteherd, Chairman of the Young
Americans for Curbing, (YAC's). Whiteherd, testifying before
the Board, charged that "the University's attitude toward the
unabashed hazardous behavior of dogs is lethargic. If not
negligent." He continued, "We of the YAC's feel it to be our
duty to prevent our fellow students from being subject to
public behavior which is amoral, despicable and illegal."

Whiteherd, claiming to speak for the majority of students
(and perspiring noticeably under such a burden), blasted "the
capricious canine behavior," specifically on and near the
renowned Homer Statue, as "detracting from aesthetic appeal
of Mr. Jefferson's academical village, violating libertarian
morals and ideals, and creating an odorously repugnant
atmosphere, not conducive to gentlemanly pursuits."

Canine Student Union (CSU) president Grizzly Buckspot
responded, leaping to his feet, "The YAC's are morally and
culturally repressive, and we of the CSU refuse to have our
customs and liberties, wherever we take them, trampled under
foot. Canine behavior," he continued, smoothing down the
hairs on the back of his neck, "must be viewed from the
perspective of a dog's mind. Their customs, and mating habits,
though repulsive to the frustrated neurotics in the YAC, make
for one of the instinctually most healthy and satisfying life
styles observed here at the University today."

Playing up the board's sympathies, he continued, "Imagine
living a free life of sport and companionship, and one day
having someone leash you up. Just imagine spending three
hours of class time a day chained between two bicycles."
Pausing, Buckspot lowered and shook his head. "It's just not
civil," he concluded with a sigh.

Noticing the Board had
been visibly moved, Whiteherd
fired back with un-contained
fury. "But their group
performs illegal acts in public,
and are always indecently
exposed. They're not our kind,
they don't belong here. So, if
they've got to be tolerated, the
least you can do is restrict their
gross habits to their homes."

"Bigot, anglo-pig,"
Buckspot growled, baring his
teeth. "Why don't you YAC's
stick to what you're best at;
throwing grain parties and
busting guerrilla heads?"

The meeting was getting out
of hand. President Hiram
Bocrat called for order.
"Gentlemen please let's not act
like animals"– (Buckspot was
shaken) – "er...I mean,"
Bocrat stammered, "I mean
can't we work this out
rationally, - the bureaucratic
way?"

"Now I realize the problem
is complex" he continued.
"There are important ethical,
moral and utilitarian
ramifications inherent in this
conflict; but Buckspot, your
CSU has got to stop fornicating
on state property immediately. This is not at all a matter of prejudices;
it's a state law. For now, though, we will hold back on
enforcement of the leash-law, until we can further probe
student opinion," "Why you administration are all of the same
breed," Whiteherd bellowed, pounding his fist on the table,
"And I'll not be forced to contribute to an organization that
pays a grounds crew to clean up after behavior which
violates my moral, religious, or political beliefs." "You fairy
godmothers, stop trying to pull University
purse-strings, "Buckspot snapped. Why you can't
even separate your moral elitism from your mundane rhetoric.
And you Bocrat," he continued, "I will not tolerate your
sacrificing the CSU to those racist wolves in the state
legislature. If you're going to require leashes on dogs, you'd
better be prepared to dog every minority group on the
Grounds."

Bocrat immediately seized upon this opportunity. "I have a
plan," the president glowed, smiling and wiggling his ears.
"We'll let the students decide the issue without telling them
about it."

"How?" queried the antagonists.

"Simple," whispered President Bocrat, rolling his tongue
and smacking his lips. "We'll pressure the Student Council into
supporting the livelihood of a questionable minority group
here at the University. It will be a test case for this, the more
serious issue," he confided.

"Now then, if the students accept the repressive reaction
against the organization that will surely result, we'll have to
break out the lesshes. If the students rally to support the
group in question, then you, Whiteherd, must concede."

"What minority group will you use?" the entire group
asked in a whisper.

An awe-inspiring hush descended on the room. Hiram
Bocrat leaned back in his chair, opened his jacket, hooked his
thumbs inside his belt, and with a sly twinkle in his eye,
replied, "Gentlemen, we'll let that, and the forty-five dollars
I'm taking from the Board treasury, be my little secret for
now."