Plus, how George Jones is still useful after 50 years of practicing law (less made up part).
Dear reader(s.) It’s summertime and the living is easy. No one wants to read about taxes. Instead, here’s a memento to George Jones Q.C. George helped me get started in tax law. He is celebrating 50 years of practicing law. That is longer than I’ve been alive.
I Committed Fraud and Got Assaulted Defending Animal Rights (made up part). Plus, how George Jones is still useful after 50 years of practicing law (less made up part).
I had to bring my dog Hunter to work because she ran into a tree. She skillfully runs at full blister with her tail tucked firmly between her legs, all the while looking back to see if any other dogs are, theoretically, chasing her. Unfortunately, one 6:00 a.m. while she was zipping along at the UVIC dog park she got spooked by something, maybe a microbe or a quark, causing her to turn left into a tree the size of, well, actually, a big tree.
The vet instructed me to “not let the dog run into trees,” practical advice until I reviewed the Interac bill for the dog physical and the dog painkillers. Hunter had chest bruising, a limp and a rash.
The painkillers caused hardcore drowsiness, giving the dog a new mellow approach to walking and a slight drool. The vet also instructed that the dog should “be watched for 24 hours,” meaning that either my wife - or I - had to take the dog to work. My wife works in Government Communications and was deep into some team project researching how the Premier should refer to people from Saskatchewan. So far the team had rejected Saskatchewanarians and Saskatchewonians. A medicated dog would cramp the team’s progress.
I, on the other hand, am a tax lawyer: a field of legal practice where narcotics are compulsory. I took Hunter to work. At my office. In the CIBC Tower. Where I was assaulted and committed fraud...
As I was entering the building, a man wearing a brown, lapelled shirt, brown slacks, and a cap with MAINT embossed on the brim, appeared. He spread his arms wide, blocking the opened automatic doors. I was standing about 10 feet outside with my leashed dog. He said, “you can’t bring a dog in here.”
MAINT pointed at a stencil of a dog on the window with a line drawn through it. “See!” he said with authority.
“My dog is hurt and I need to watch her for 24 hours.”
Now MAINT crossed his arms over his chest, but he still stood in the doorway.
“Maybe you didn’t understand. I work in the building. I can’t leave my dog alone. She’s sick.” In support, Hunter splayed all four legs drunkenly, and a little bit of drool came off her lip. Bad stoner dog, I thought.
“No dogs,” MAINT repeated. Helpfully, he pointed at the No Dogs stencil again.
“What if I was blind? Could I bring in a dog?”
“You’re not blind.”
“I know that, but I have a very strong eyeglass prescription. Some dogs are allowed, right?”
“That’s the rule - No dogs.”
“But why? If you can’t tell me why, then the rule is stupid.”
He thought for a second. “Insurance,” he said hopefully.
“You’re just guessing,” I said. “There’s no anti-dog insurance rule. I have insurance that says I can bring my dog anywhere.” (I can make things up just as easily as a guy with MAINT on his cap can.)
“Doesn’t matter - no dogs in the building.”
We glared at each other as people went in and out of the building. Hunter waited and yawned.
“I’m going in,” I said to Hunter. I walked to the doors, my dog wobbling uncertainly behind me. MAINT tried to spread his arms wider. I thought I could slip by him when he did the oddest thing. He grabbed my arm.
“You’re holding my arm,” I said dryly as we both stared at his hand grasping my sleeve.
“I can’t let that dog in here.”
“Come on over here,” I pulled him and Hunter to the listing of tenants.
“You see that name. That’s me - George Jones.1 My firm has the whole 12th floor. We pay a ton of rent. If your boss has a problem, call me at work. I’m not arguing anymore.” My heart was rattling, and sweat trickled down my back.
MAINT let go of my arm and reached into his pocket for a cell phone. Every dog knows that pockets carry treats. Hunter watched him and she tried to do her best trick - rolling over. But she was too drugged up and could only get about half way. She looked so pathetic lying on her back, her tail wagging in slow motion, that I picked her up. “I’m going to work. Your boss can call me.” I carried my dog into the elevator and up to work.
The Jones Rules
Dear readers, if Mr. Jones stands for anything it’s got to be protesting stupidity. Someone is salivating to enforce rules. Someone else is salivating to get around the rules. Stupidity plays first string for both sides in this struggle. The no dog rule seemed kind of silly to me; regardless, defying the “man” had consequences. Here are the rules that apply if you choose to act like, or in my case “impersonate”, Mr. Jones.
Expect to be assaulted.
Never give your name to vexatious brown shirts. Instead, give the name of a friend, preferably one with a notable temper. Remember, you are committing fraud, so expect jail time if you choose to lie to the Gendarmes.
The real authorities do not care much about you if you keep your head down. Case in point, Mr. Jones was recently in my office where he spied my dog (that I now sneak in just because I like her company). Mr. Jones said, “hey, I got a letter from the landlord that said I couldn’t bring a dog here.”
I explained, “That is just for you, George. Everyone else gets to bring their dog.”
“Yeah, probably,” he said. That letter was the only fallout.
Dress well. Wearing a suit probably saved me from being killed (or worse). As an aside, Mr. Jones does not follow this rule.
Finally, you could probably stand to lose a few pounds. Join the YMCA. Get some exercise. Your fees go to a lot of good causes.
Dear George, Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.
1 Mr. Jones did not pay a fee for the use of his name. He should have.
-- J. Andre Rachert
The above article provides general commentary of an educational nature. It does not constitute advice for any specific person or any specific set of circumstances. Because circumstances vary, readers should consult professional advisers in order to obtain advice that is applicable to their specific circumstances.
