Lamont Diaries continued:

September 3, 2012

Lamont Gets Arrested

Yesterday, as afternoon turned to dusk, Lamont was having a particularly grand time Proclaiming his Emancipation from the bondage of the modern day chains of the hated Leash Laws in Capitol Hill’s Abraham Lincoln park, named in honor of the American president who went to war to end slavery.

Lamont has a particular affection for the heroic icon of freedom, who was also our first gay, mentally ill head of state.

And Lamont considers it his civic duty to keep the flame of the candle of freedom alive by daily engaging in what Lamont considers a personal act of non-violent civil disobedience by breaking free of the chains of repression—the hated Dog Leash—and running free in the shadow of the statue of Abraham Lincoln, honoring the man who freed the slaves.

Lamont remains vigilant to protect political freedoms and canine civil rights

Lamont believes that a free dog is a vigilant dog, that there is no such thing as a revolutionary war veteran because the revolution is never finished, that freedom is never free, that complacent dogs are the seedlings for the rise of dictatorship, and that to keep the flame on the candle of liberty glowing canines must remain alert.

He remembers the wise adage of the rise of fascism. “First they came after the Jews, but it wasn’t us so no one cared. Then they came after the Catholics, but it wasn’t us. Then they came after the Gays, and when they came for the Dogs, there was no one left to fight to keep us free.” Or something like that.

Because Lamont believes that neglecting eradicating the tumour of the anachronistic modern day Leash Laws will surely metastasize into a cancer that ravages the body politic, he is particularly adamant that he daily walk the leash free picket line in the park in solidarity with all those in bondage, past and present.

Plus he likes it.

Alot

So, especially as a first generation immigrant who appreciates the opportunities afforded by civil society defined by rule of law, Lamont is committed to his civic duty to defend freedom for all. Especially his own, to frolic and romp unchained without armed agents of the State intervening to stifle his pursuit of happiness.

Technically, it is against Municipal and Federal law for a dog to be unleashed in Washington, D.C. And the penalties can be severe. They include arrest and detention without habeus corpus benefits, the right to a trial, an appeal, a jury of one’s peers, or to even present a defence. The penalties can include arbitrary sentencing to indeterminate incarceration, and even state sanction death.

From Lamont’s perspective it is unjust that there is a little publicized parallel canine judicial system—a Dog Gitmo in the heart of the cradle of liberty, Washington, D.C.

Last night, as Lamont was following the teachings of Dr. Martin Luther King on the use of non violent dissent to protest unjust laws, by publicly doing the canine equivalent of sitting at a White’s Only lunch counter by romping leashless with a few fellow dog protesters in Abraham Lincoln park, a police cruiser zoomed from the shadows and abruptly came to a halt by the grass pavilion where Lamont and his confederates were walking the picket line.

This wasn’t just your regular cops. They were the feared, rogue Federal secret police agents–the Hated Park Police. Lamont knows they have a Special Canine Suppression Unit, with broad authority and powers targeting known dog rabble rousers.

And, in all likelihood, Lamont has his picture hanging on the wall of every Park Police agent in town.

The park Police cruiser turned on its flashing emergency lights. Immediately the canines and their humans froze. And everyone attached their chains to their humans, fearing the worst.

Not Lamont. He went on full alert, snout pointed towards the Law, ears perked rigidly, rising to his full erect height of ten inches in a posture of defiance. And then he charged, galloping at full speed towards the focus of excitement, cleverly masking his intent with a friendly demeanor of full body wiggling, rapidly wagging tail, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, whimpering, and came to a stop by the driver’s door of the Park Police cruiser, whose flashing emergency lights only seemed to entertain Lamont.

Confronted by such a blatant disregard for the law, the cop had no choice. He opened the door and emerged, his right hand gripping his holstered weapon, and confronted Lamont.

“Lamont, I’ve told you before, if you don’t put on your leash, the law says I am going to have to give you a ticket,” said the Federal Law Enforcement Agent.

Lamont responded to Power with Smooches, as is taught in the canine version of Dr. Martin Luther King’s tactical guidelines for non-violent dissent. He lept up on the creased pants of the officer’s uniform and requested a smooch to demonstrate mutual good will.

First the officer stiffened. Then he sorta melted. The battle of wills was over, Lamont having emerged victorious, by the time I arrived huffing and puffing at the crisis scene. How can one impose the letter of an obviously unjust law upon such a vehicle of love and goodness as Lamont?  Lamont had single pawedly disarmed the forces of injustice in one fell smooch.

“Lamont, get down!” I ordered, knowing the last thing needed was the bad publicity that would be brought to the Movement with an assault and battery on a federal police officer charge against Lamont.

Lamont reluctantly complied, knowing his personal political commitment could have broader consequences. He was aware of rumours that I possibly had a couple of outstanding police warrants for my arrest, and being the middle of a holiday weekend, my incarceration could well deprive him of several days of romps in the park, not to mention smooches and cookies, before I might make bail.

The agent stood solemnly while I attached Lamont to his chains.  He strutted back to his cruiser, and at a slow crawl, exited the Abraham Lincoln park.

At which time Lamont had returned to his awed canine pals and their congratulatory humans. And everyone was promptly unchained , to romp and frolic in freedom once again.

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