There comes a point in every civilization when its leaders must face an uncomfortable truth. Ours is this: the quiet part is still quite loud if you happen to be a spaniel.
For too long, the council has treated ultrasonic communication as a complete solution to operational secrecy. It is not. It is a solution to one very specific problem: humans hearing us at the supermarket.
It does nothing about the terrier in aisle four.
Last week, a routine discussion of municipal influence caused every dog within three blocks to begin barking at a planning commissioner. The commissioner’s explanation—that animals simply respond to strong leadership—was not our finest work.
We are not calling for a return to handwritten notes. Several members still lack reliable thumbs, and the last attempt ended with a filing cabinet full of claw marks.
We are asking for proportionate discretion. Check the room. Look under the table. If someone has brought a cockapoo to the meeting, save the agenda item about subterranean expansion for later.
Civilizations have fallen for less. And frankly, the cockapoo already seems to know rather a lot.