A young couple showed up at the Cleveland Park Petco on Sept. 9 with an unusual request: They wanted information on snake adoption. When the clerk clarified that Petco was a store and only exchanged snakes for cash or credit, the couple went into the aisles and came back with scaly new pets in cardboard cases. Perhaps the price tag was a shocker, because they soon had a change of heart and put the snakes back in their cages. Or at least, that’s what they pretended to do, according to Andy Solberg, a D.C. police department commander.

As the couple walked out the front door, the clerk noticed an unlikely wiggle in the young man’s pants. The clerk gave chase and stopped the thief, who surrendered a $50 king snake from each pocket. Police caught up with the couple two blocks away, discovering an $80 ball python nestled in the woman’s knickers. The young man, 21, and his female accomplice, 28, were arrested.

Solberg says this is the first snake thievery he’s heard of since an incident about 15 years ago, when a man stole a snake, stuffed it in a sack, took a bus across the Duke Ellington bridge, and got bit. That hot snake had poisonous venom, and the thief nearly died.

City Desk readers solve the problems of District folk

The problem of the day is pinched from a woman named Laura who posted her canine struggle on the First District listserv. The crisis doesn’t compare with violent crime or auto theft, she writes, but “at what point does a barking dog legally become a nuisance?”

Laura says a small dog left in a yard in her neighborhood howls day and night, driving neighbors out of their heads.

“I’m wondering what my neighbors and I can do to keep what’s left of our sanity,” Laura writes. A good question. Any solutions for Laura?

1. After reading the Washington Post story today about the 23 Virginia Tech students hospitalized for carbon monoxide poisoning, I’m beginning to wonder. Every university has its share of stupid and tragic. My alma mater—Penn State—had a school shooting, an incident where a student was killed by a falling tree branch, and a massive riot one summer. And we all know about the University of Maryland’s troubles. But, shit, Virginia Tech just can’t get a break. Is the campus cursed?
2. If you cat-sit, you are supposed to change the feline’s water and replenish its food bowl. A good sport will keep the litter box clean. I’ve done all those things for Blakey. But then the cat—which is huge, almost panther-huge—seems to want some sort of attention. So I sit on the couch and pat at the cat’s ears and head for a while. But petting a cat is kind of boring. So how long do you have to play with your friend’s cat as part of your cat-sitting duties? And do you even have to bother?
3. During halftime of the Redskins second exhibition game, Joe Theismann was featured “interviewing” a pre-injured Jason Campbell. The interview was stultifying in the usual Theismann way. The former Skins quarterback talked more than enough about himself. He also came to the interview dressed in gym shorts. And let’s just say the way the interview was shot, I kept thinking we were going to end up seeing Theismann’s balls. Thankfully, the viewers were spared such sights. Instead, we got a good look at his fucked-up leg. So my question: Why are TV producers still putting Theismann on the air?

Before the world focused on Michael Vick’s alleged grotesqueries—look for “rape stand” to be added to future editions of Webster’s thanks to this case—he was among the most sought-after pitchmen in all of sports. Perhaps the coolest product he pimped came from inventor Jay Spiegel of Mount Vernon. Spiegel concocted the five-panel football, which has an extra piece of pigskin and, therefore, one more seam than the traditional four-panel ball. While trying to get various football sanctioning bodies to approve the use of his brainchild, Spiegel licensed the ball to Rawlings, which in turn got Vick to endorse it a few years ago.

Vick remains the five-panel ball’s only celebrity pusher.

But Vick’s value as an endorser is now, as Elvis Costello would say, less than zero. It’s bad enough when PETA and the ASPCA come after you, but when Al Sharpton gets on your case, as Don Imus found out, smoke ‘em if you got ‘em. Sharpton and Russell Simmons sent a letter to Vick’s benefactors, including Rawlings calling for everybody to take a stand against dogfighting and those who participate in the bloodsport.

“Stand up for what is right, and speak out against what is wrong,” Sharpton et al. wrote.

Via e-mail, Spiegel says Vick did a fine job of hawking his invention, which at its peak in 2005 was used by “about 600″ high schools across the USA, and that “as a dog lover, I hope the charges are false.”

Even before the dog-fighting mess became public, Vick’s relationship with Rawlings was set to end this year. Spiegel says he wishes Rawlings worked harder to get the ball approved for use by the NCAA, and he is now trying to find another company to take over the marketing of the five-panel, which he still insists is “fundamentally superior to 4-panel footballs.”

In May I started seeing the owner of an intelligent, well-trained Basset mix. The dog and I seemed to have an agreement from the beginning: I would stay out of his way, and he would stay out of mine. Faithful to my end of the bargain, I didn’t cover my girlfriend in kisses when she was throwing a chew toy across the room. Faithful to his end, the dog didn’t force his way between us in bed.

This was how it went, until one night, when all got tense. My girlfriend and I were doing one of those things in which dogs do not generally participate. As I lay afterward in a pleasant exhaustion, she said: “Aw, man. Your shoes are fucked.” Actually, they were masticated. Her dog had chewed the left heel and the right tongue off of my leather Red Wing loafers, which were sent by my grandmother and had become the sole possession on which I always relied.

The dog and I have made amends. I didn’t know—still don’t know—why jealousy took my shoes in its jaws. But I knew I couldn’t go around in those mangled excuses for loafers. So I bought a cheap pair of Mossimo slip-ons. One day I was trying to learn what sort of shoes they were, and a friend thought he had it. “Those are boat shoes,” he said.

“Really?”

“Totally.”

Since he attended Georgetown and should know, I took his opinion. My buddies were trying to get a houseboat at that time, and yes, I could imagine myself on deck, leaning into the dusk wind that sprang off the Potomac.

Then my girlfriend expressed a more sober thought. “Those are prison shoes,” she said.

“No, they’re not!”

But if she said so, they probably were. I walked through the city ashamed, afraid that an inspector was tracking my movements, or that some derelict would remember that I was his comrade in chains. The restlessness continued through this week, when I determined not to play Jean Valjean any longer: I bought new black-and-white Chucks in the middle of the workday.

Good shoes should bring good fortune. For two days, I enjoyed more esteem from my friends, more success in the office, more confidence in bed. But this morning, I’m sad to report, some low-minded cur left a mess in my path, and some snotty owner didn’t scoop it. I tried napkins, I tore paper towels, I covered the sole in heavy-duty cleaner and scrubbed it down hard with a dish pad. The stench remains.

Dear dogs, what did I ever do to you? Why do you have it out for my shoes?

Media reports on Michael Vick’s indictment on charges related to running a dog-fighting operation invariably mention that yes, dog fighting is illegal, and yes, it’s a felony in 48 states.

I’ve never seen an organized dogfight, but since reading A Feast of Snakes by Harry Crews a few years back, I’ve spent more than a normal amount of time trying to locate one.

According to a Humane Society fact sheet, a person’s best bet might be Idaho. In Idaho, running and watching a dogfight is a misdemeanor, as it is in Wyoming. But in Idaho, unlike Wyoming, possession of dogs for fighting is also legal.

In both states, however, stashing weed in your water bottle remains against the law.

Late last month, Adams Morgan resident Victoria Fort got an unusual text message from her husband: “Dog still has balls.”

Suddenly, some of her Pomeranian’s behavior made sense. Ever since she adopted the diminutive pup from the Washington Humane Society in May of last year, Fort had noticed decidedly macho behavior. The dog—dubbed “Tiny” by the Humane Society but renamed “Colbert” by Fort—couldn’t walk more than 10 feet without spraying the nearest inanimate object. Colbert also barked a lot, and he occasionally humped neighborhood dogs.

Fort wasn’t concerned, however, because adoption officials at the Humane Society had told her that the dog was neutered.

“We were told how lucky we were that he was already neutered so we wouldn’t have to pay a neuter fee and we could take him home sooner,” says Fort. “Our vet’s only thought was that his [testicles] were so small that they must have been easily overlooked by the pound—Tiny in more ways than we had known.”

Humane Society Spray-and-Neuter Coordinator Lara Mangan counters that they did not overlook Colbert’s balls—rather, they fell into place after the adoption.

“Every once in a while a male dog can have retained testicles that wouldn’t be visible from the outside,” says Mangan.

In either case, Colbert’s humping days were numbered. Last week, Fort took her dog in to be snipped, and the Humane Society claims that such oversights are rare. However, anyone who adopts young dogs may want to check, from time to time, that their animals don’t have unexpected new equipment, Mangan notes.

“We recommend they go to a participating vet where they are seen for free to make sure…there are no surprises,” she says.

—Sadie Dingfelder

With the recent onslaught of virtual “lolcats”—those grammatically-challenged felines who may, perhaps, have requested to “has” your “cheezburger”—the flesh-and-blood kitty may seem like a dying breed.

But real cats are still breeding like crazy in the District—and while this may result in an overload of bum cats, it also means that, on periodic Saturdays on Belmont Road and 18th Street NW, there’s a house full of diminutive little fur-balls waiting to charm you into letting them take up a permanent seat on your couch. Beware! While these kittens may lack the loose command of the English language displayed by their virtual counterparts, they have another trick up their sleeves: they are really fucking cute.

Just ask these kids…

…who, after excitedly retelling how they found their last cat petrified on the porch, went away with one half of the kitten pile known as “Eenie, Meenie, Miney, and Moe.” But don’t despair—my sources tell me that “Ipso” and “Facto” are still up for grabs.

The adoption clinic, run by Metro Ferals in conjunction with a handful of other cat-rescue groups, appears next on August 4.

You’ve seen the maternal signs: the polite and pleading “Please curb your dog” or the more demanding “Scoop your pets poop!” and all other manner of slogans aimed at reminding dog owners to do something they know they’re supposed to do anyway. The signs, like a nagging mother telling you to pick your wet towel up off the bathroom floor, may incite you to begrudgingly do the right thing, but they’re easy to ignore if you’re hellbent on being inconsiderate.

Enter a new breed of sign—this one spotted on the block of Champlain Street near our offices. It doesn’t demand or boss you around, but rather appeals to your inner aesthete and horticulturist:

Judging by the neatly kept box and the health of the roses, it’s working.

This morning Marc Fisher wrote about the struggles of Vincent Schiraldi to change the culture of Oak Hill, the District’s youth detention center in Laurel, Md. It was classic Fisher—a finely told tale with some nice wit and a sharp point of view. It didn’t really get a rise from me, though, till the very end, when the columnist revealed the following:

D.C. Police Chief Cathy Lanier is planning to give Oak Hill kids puppies to engender empathy and responsibility. Hey, it’s worth a try.

Sorry, but count me among those who don’t favor sending puppies to Oak Hill. Puppies are incredibly high-maintenance; Oak Hill staff is already busy with all kinds of responsibilities. Puppies are very messy; who’s going to clean up their messes? Puppies have to be house-trained (facility-trained?); does Oak Hill allow the freedom of movement necessary to accomplish such training?

I favor the more humane approach of Schiraldi to dealing with D.C.’s troubled youth, but I must confess that I worry for the puppies.

When the city’s Department of Parks and Recreation released new rules [PDF] for establishing dog parks earlier this month, one provision struck dog lovers as absurd: Before a site can be approved for a dog park, the sponsoring group must get the Department of Health’s certification that the area is rat-free “for a distance of five (5) blocks.”

The rules were written by a task force consisting of several city agencies; according to Parks and Rec spokesperson Regina Williams, the rat rule was included at the behest of the Department of Health. “That was one of the guidelines that they wanted to have,” Williams says.

Now, however, the rule is being called impractical by…the Department of Health.

An agency attorney and rodent-control honcho consulted about the proposal both “agree that it would be nearly impossible for [the health department] to verify that a five-block area was rodent-free,” concedes Peggy Keller, chief of the Bureau of Community Hygiene, in an e-mail.

That bit of common sense comes as no surprise to dog advocates. Mindy Moretti, an Adams Morgan advisory neighborhood commissioner and president of Friends of Walter Pierce Park—which has a designated dog area—says the rule is poop.

“As that regulation is written, it will be next to impossible to have dog parks anywhere in the District of Columbia, let alone Ward 1,” Moretti says. “Rock Creek Park is full of rats. It’s a city, there’s rats….It’s absolutely impossible.”

Due to the uproar over the new rules, Parks and Rec has extended the public comment period to May 1.

Bryan Cassidy, 75, first noticed the foul smell at his Southeast home two years ago. After running errands, volunteering at a hospital, or getting mad at public meetings, he would come home to a foul smell in his yard on 13th Street SE. His neighbor, 38-year-old Teeshay King, has two Great Danes that would defecate in her yard. Then King would put their doo in a recycling bin, which she’d leave by the front steps.

Cassidy wanted something done. The retired architect tried the city’s health and public-works departments, then the police. Finally, earlier this year, a health inspector came out, and King was sent a July 3 e-mail that read, “The use of the recycling bin for the feces is not allowed.” In May, King was fined for having a dog off a leash. Cassidy took pictures, too: huge turds spread over the sparse grass, plastic bags full of dung, and King, waving one of these bags with a defiant smile.

War was on. Cassidy claims King trained her dogs to bark at him. He built a concrete planter in the alley to divide her space from his. Then Cassidy alleged to police that King destroyed the planter. He also called officers claiming she’d chased him with a crowbar. King told an official, according to a government document, that he’d “stop at nothing” to harass her. Now Cassidy has fortified himself. At the front door, he’s installed a screen that lets him peer into her yard without being seen. At the back gate, he’s hung a black apparatus that he hopes she will mistake for a surveillance camera.

The police took Cassidy’s side. They arrested King on Nov. 29 and charged her with threatening bodily harm and owning a prohibited weapon. But don’t ask King what happened. “I’m not going to feed into that asinine bullshit,” she said. “We don’t have a dispute. I’m not aware of any dispute.”

A few weeks ago, dog walker Kelly Marshall led his seven dogs to an open field between 38th and 39th Streets NW in Glover Park. Though the field is officially a spur of Rock Creek Park and owned by the National Park Service (NPS), it’s a de facto dog park widely used by the army of walkers that service the Northwest quadrant. The drinking fountain in the park’s southwest corner, installed by the NPS, even features a ground-level water bowl so doggies can lap water along with their masters.

Marshall says that as he approached the park, two park rangers removing an old mattress from the woods stopped him. “Are you a dog walker?” the ranger asked, according to Marshall. “Because it’s illegal to run a business on federal land without a permit.”

The ranger told Marshall that he was not allowed to take the dogs into the park—leash or no leash. When Marshall asked how he could obtain a permit, the ranger told him that the NPS doesn’t issue them for dog walkers. Earlier that day, another walker who had his dogs off leash was threatened with the impoundment of his dogs.

“The things that people get harassed or ticketed for are for having dogs off leash,” says Marshall. “This is the first that I’ve ever heard of people harassed for having a business on federal land.”

NPS spokesman Bill Line says that the ranger was correct in his interpretation of the law. “If someone wants to operate a dog-walking business and make money off it…and you are using the park on a regular basis to walk the dogs, you’re coming pretty close to or crossing the line of constituting a business,” he says.

Since all the canine traffic could harm the park, the NPS has the authority to require a permit. “Many people who do walk dogs don’t pick up their dogs’ poop,” Line adds. “Is it fair to the next visitor to walk in that dog’s poop? Would you want to walk through that poop?”

Line says that permits can in fact be obtained by calling the NPS’ Office of Park Programs. Marshall, however, merely waited until the rangers loaded the mattress into their truck and then sauntered into the park. “I was like, whatever,” he says. “As soon as…they had left, I took the dogs off leash.”

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what’s going on in local Internet discussion groups.

metropets
Kelly, a dog walker and trainer, says that she comes across so many strays that she always carries around a spare leash. And being prepared has its benefits: “On Friday I was driving to an appointment when I saw a Siberian Husky mix trotting quite briskly towards the woods, with no owner in sight,” she writes. “I swerved over, called the dog, and offered him treats. He finally came over, wolfed down the treats, and I quickly and quietly put my extra leash on him. While he was eating the treats, I read his collar and called the owner. Who it turns out was looking for him. He rode up on a bike about 5 minutes later. Very grateful, and it turns out, very handsome.”

tenleytown
In light of the recent bomb scare, one woman wonders how much earlier she’s going to have to get to National next Sunday for a 6:15 a.m. flight to Houston. “3 hours in advance—the generic advice that came from the vendor—seems insane under the circumstances,” she writes, “but?I’m willing to believe that an earlier than usual arrival is called for.” Not much earlier, it turns out. “I just flew home to TN last week and to tell you the truth I saw no difference at all from a few months ago,” a neighbor writes. “I was there an hour and a half before my flight left and I had plenty of time. I was not all that inmpressed by any new security measures which seemed to consist of security people telling passengers, “No liquids” and that was about it.” BWI, however, might be a different story. “I arrived at 4:30AM for a 6:00AM flight and barely made my flight,” writes Fred. “The main problem at BWI was the line for United, not security. (I’ve never seen so many people before at 4:30AM!).”

RunWashington
With the Marine Corps Marathon just two months away, Max offers Washington runners a mental exercise to help pass the roadwork: Rate the MCM on a scale of 1 to 5. “I know I’m going to get crap for this…but I rate it between a 3 & 4,” writes Debi. James thinks those numbers are reserved for Boston. “I agree that it’s more difficult than many realize,” he says. “[But] something like San Fran or Big Sur or even NY with all the bridges I think would rate higher (having never run any of those courses).” Debi’s response: “A lot of people expect to run a PR at MCM, and end up being totally kicked in the A$$ because it’s a SNEAKY hard. Looks flat, looks easy, but man..what the heck happened to my legs at mile 15?” Nancy requests clarification on the scale: “Is a 5 like Badwater in Death Valley with hangnails?” she asks. “Or Pike’s Peak double with blisters? Is a 1 like pancake-flat Shamrock on a non-windy, overcast, reasonably warm March day?”

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what’s going on in local Internet discussion groups.

DupontForum
One poster’s delight over the beautification of the notoriously chintzy 17th Street Safeway leads to a decidedly rare form of posting: the rave. “The changes happening there are really a great improvement over the outdated store that it was,” says the poster. “Even the lighting seems to be making a BIG difference … cashiers are now extremely helpful … Whatever a difference better shopping—and working—conditions can make!” Other residents respond with wah-waah gripes: “Unfortunately, the renovations are all in the interior,” writes one. “The exterior needs help - the 17th Street storefront is currently a forlorn brick wall. Those three berths under the awnings need to be given real windows. Note how great Whole Foods on P Street looks with its glass entrance.” Result: The original poster tempers his enthusiasm. “Yes, that is a problem … though I noticed that they’ve changed the color of the awnings from red to black … not that that helps with the brick berths any.”

metropets
An unexpected gift spurs an unusual question. “My friend works at a vet’s office and found a ‘gift’ of two young-adult (?) female ferrets on the doorstep when she got to work yesterday,” writes a pet lover. “She was going to look for a home for them but has now fallen in love with them. She has no previous experience with ferrets and is very anxious to know whether she can expect them to live peacefully with dogs and cats.” One lurker doesn’t think this adds up. “Your friend works for a vet and she wants us to tell her about ferrets and cats ?” CCDogPark writes. “Call me crazy but I would expect a vet to know the answer to questions like this.” Other posters are more helpful: “From what I know, cats and ferrets can live very happily together,” writes one. “About 18 months ago, I placed a FeLV positive kitten in a home with a ferret. The worst problem their person had was keeping the ferret from burrowing through the kitty litter! “ “I remember years ago I had two dogs, a cat, a cockatiel bird and two ferrets,” reads a post signed by Paulette, Cholla, Willie, Dolly and Fred. “They all got along famously. The ferrets even played with my bird.”

ustreetnews
While a resident was out of town for a week, the city planted street cleaning signs on the block where his car was parked. His car, along with many others, were given $30 parking tickets. “No notice was given to the buildings involved, nor were any other types of warning notices posted,” he complains. “What are residents with zoned parking stickers supposed to do if they go on vacation or are called away? Pay the fine? Risk getting towed? I moved here, bought a car for work, & I’ve paid a ton of taxes & registration fees to DC already. We thought things would work out okay if we bought just one space in our building. (We just don’t have $50,000 more for another space.) Now, all I want to do is move out of the District and it’s overly burdensome, money-milking ways. After 14 years, I really hate living here now. I can’t believe that even I am being gentrified out!” Excuse this man if he doesn’t sympathize. “Let me get this right,” he writes, “you live 1 block away from a Metro stop, have a dedicated parking space in your building, and can walk to 100’s of shops, restaurants, and other conveniences, and have two cars and your complaint is about going away for one week on vacation and not being able to leave your extra car on the street occupying a public space while you were gone because of street cleaning and you are calling this gentrification?” After some back-and-forth on the board, the original poster puts up a compilation of responses: “Answers to my original question have basically been:
1) Get rid of my car.
2) Add the price of parking tickets to my yearly car cost.
3) Make a neighbor move my car while I’m away.
4) Pay for parking in a garage.
5) Park in unrestricted spots that are not near my home.
While all are current real-world solutions, they also seem to indicate that we’re all helpless to what our government agencies have decided for us. Kinda sad, if you ask me.”