Watch out for elevator doors

Although it sounds all romantic and maybe even handy at times, I'm glad I don't have a tail. Grooming a tail would probably add at least fifteen minutes to my morning routine. I have enough trouble remembering to comb the hair on my head, let alone fluff out my hindquarter.

Whenever I reflect on this subject, I always assume the human tail is fur-covered. I picture a puffy spaniel-like appendage, as opposed to bald, pink and rat-like. If humans had rat-like tails, we'd most likely go in for wallpaper tattooing and bedazzling. Half the sites on the internet would peddle tail slings, muffs, pouches, hoists and other prophylactic devices because no one wants their naked tail dragging on the sidewalk. Personally, my tail-lette would be a woodland-print knit with LED lights.

I might get a tassel or a pompom to hang on the end of my tail.

Nonetheless, a rat-style tail may have some advantages over a hairy-style tail. Hair would require all sorts of product to stay on top of like gels and sculpting butt mousse. There'd be special circular barrettes, banana clips and scrunchies. You could go to Rickey's and buy semi-permanent tiger-striping home color kits. Maybe you could also pick up tubular tail wigs in leopard print or snowy white clip-ins with gigantic poodle balls.

Tail etiquette would concern us. Cosmo would run articles like "When to Wag."

But most gravely of all, assuming a consensus to shun ass-less chaps at least in business settings, the tail would require an underpant and trouser redesign. Consider how challenging it would be to jam your furry tail through a small, rear-facing hole. A more sensible choice is certainly a slit that closes at the top with the modern convenience of velcro.