By Sarah Block

Thank goodness for social law. There are some things, most of us can agree, you just don’t do—in public—or even at all… and yet, we turn a blind eye to our furry “friends” who I dare assume we’ve all seen forcibly assert their black, wet noses upon some other passerby’s rear-end, or relieve themselves at leisure in the middle of a crowded street and then go on to eat some unidentified scrap—mere feet away. If the inhumanity of it all doesn’t just make you want to hole up in a public library, or some other dog-restricted, sterile government-run building, well, then I guess you’re in the right city. This time of year in New Orleans, even the sloppiest canines, of all shapes and sizes, are tolerated—in some cases revered— for all of their pre-obedience school antics, and encouraged to march in at least one of the several Mardi Gras parades put on around town just for them. Krewes for the savage beasts actually exist in New Orleans, Metairie, Slidell, Gretna, and Covington. The biggest of all is put on by the Mystic Krewe of Barkus, now in its 17th year of hosting 1,200 masked and suited dogs as they tread through the French Quarter by paw, float, or in the arms of their beloved owners. “It’s fun, and it’s just hysterical,” said Barkus VP Charlotte Lilly. She describes an image she’s seen in past years of a dog hanging its head out of the window of a float built to resemble a St. Charles Avenue streetcar, checking out the curbside scenery. There’s always plenty of action to keep a dog’s nose pointed over to the sidewalk. Well over 5,000 spectators, many alongside their pets, show up to see other peoples’ pooches flaunt their outfits, dressed to a central theme— some pop-culture reference that only their owners and fellow human beings can understand. Lilly is adamant, no less, that the dogs just eat up this event but not in the way a junkyard mutt would approach a fallen T-bone. “We’ve never had any dogs get hurt, not one bite,” she says, responding to my inquiry of how over a thousand dogs of all different breeds and sizes and upbringings, not to mention sexes, could possibly fulfill this mission in peace. “Somehow they just know when they arrive… that this is for their entertainment.” This year’s theme, “Barkus Goes Tailgaiting (And the Dogs Come Barking in),” should bring in the ultimate Mardi Gras trifecta: dog-lovers, sports-fanatics, and party-people. The parade, after all, will emerge from its launch-site, now located on a lot on N. Rampart and Orleans, on none other than Superbowl Sunday at 5:15, a mere 45 minutes before kickoff. Lilly says there will be no shortage of Barkus parties and tailgates along the route, including the official Barkus VIP room upstairs at Good Friends Bar, or at its also dog-friendly downstairs bar, where spectators can pop in for a quick drink and game-score check. There will also be a pre- and post-parade “pawty” on the lot with lots of food, drinks, and live music from The Blackened Blues. Of course, for Lilly and other parade enthusiasts, the real anticipation lies in the costumes. She says that within the sure-tobe sea of black-and-gold decked labs, hounds, and terriers, some of the homemade get-ups and minimobiles are as unpredictable as what those strutting the stuff—the dogs— might do in front of the audience. “They could come as a Superbowl or [any various] New Orleans theme. We may see some football floats. But no matter what the theme is, people come as what they want,” she says. So, the theme is more a flexible guideline than a stringent rule. I take it the dogs in this city have rubbed off on their owners—you just can’t seem to keep them on a leash! No doubt, the outlandishness of some costumes is what makes all of these events so fun for spectators to watch. And it certainly makes planning easier for participants to have a variety of dog boutiques within reach that carry both costumes and everyday canine attire. Justine Roig, owner of Chi Wa-Wa Ga-Ga (A Small Store for Dinky Dogs), located in the French Quarter, says Saints apparel has been flying off the shelves since football season started. She expects the same fate soon enough for traditional Mardi Gras garments like party collars, jester costumes, and carnival masks, along with some other miscellaneous items in the store that participants of any local canine Krewe might stretch to fit within their respective parade’s theme. Other local boutiques like Canine Connection, Petcetera, or The Pet Quarter, or even the online New Orleans-specific dog shop Ziggy’s, are also hot-spots for doggarb. Ziggy’s website features some custom-made wares, such as a small-dog onesie that reads in plain embroidery, “I’m a Little Coon-Ass.” Clever marks of local flavor on dog apparel are enough to make a dogenthusiast wag his/her own tail, and it may even have the same effect on a dog, provided the fit is right. On that touchy subject Roig says, “You know pretty much immediately if a dog is going to flaunt an outfit or not. Sometimes as soon as you put them in it, they’re trying to take it off. Others, you can just tell think, ‘I’m looking good,’ and are showing it off.” She says for the more finicky dog, go for the tanktop! Too tacky? She adds that many bitches find the dresses to be quite comfortable. And it’s a no-brainer that in this town at least, the males will have no problem if they choose to parade around in drag. Anyway, in the end, does it really matter what they’re wearing? The real mission behind these local area dog parades, aside from providing a few hours of high-quality entertainment, is to give back to the community, that for dogs and humans alike. Barkus, Metairie’s Krewe de Arfus, Gretna’s Pawdi Paws, and Slidell’s Krewe de Paws all benefit local animal assistance organizations. The Northshore’s Mystic Krewe of Mardi Paws, put on by the Have a Heart Thru Art Foundation, helps raise funds for art programs directed towards underprivileged and disabled children in St. Tammany Parish. It’s the encouragement of participation, not high-fashion, that helps these organizations reach their goals; the creative genius put into some of the most head-turning exhibits, however applause-ridden they may be, is ultimately just an ornament atop each symbolic unit of effort, each dog, whose march will go on to help save another one just like him. Lynn Morvas, a main event promoter of the Arfus parade, says many local area rescue and shelter dogs march in the event at no cost, and there’s even an adoption center at the parade site. The exposure of these animals to the public not only increases their chances for adoption, but it also raises awareness within the public of the long-term importance of spaying/neutering pets in order to prevent future surges in homeless pets. In the very least, Morvas says, the event “gives people a reason to bring their dogs out.” For some, if it gets the tail to move from point A to point B, that’s reason enough.