Editorial: And justice for Autumn

Iustitia omnibus -- or "Justice for all," to paraphrase Cicero. And that means justice for Autumn Kelly and for all those born under the same star as this fair West Islander.
   According to accounts overheard at a fine purveyor of gin near Whitehall in London, Peter Phillips -- who is tenth in line to the British throne and engaged to Ms. Kelly -- will be banned from his rightful succession if her marries Autumn.
   Cut off from his birthright? Yes. In the 21st century? Twenty-one times yes.
   The real possibility that Mr. Phillips will be severed from his natural rights happens to stem from a rare circumstance of Autumn's birth. A circumstance that was beyond her control. It may be unusual -- in fact, we at Coolopolis Towers have never heard of it before -- but we have learned that Ms. Kelley is a cat lick. The way we understand it is feline mammals are attracted to lingering surface expressions of evapoted saline solutions on her skin.
   You may well ask, "Isn't that weird?" But no! The fact that cats (and that includes the royal British lion) seek to put their tongues on the back of her hand, while rare, must be a perfectly natural condition (unverified at time of publication -- ed).
   This much is a fact: all living creatures, cats included, require salt. And they will take it where they find it. They find it on her and that's good enough for them. That's good enough for us, too. It's what gives Autumn the special distinction of being a cat lick and may she, and other cat licks, who must be quite busy during this hot spell of weather, be proud.
   So you may well ask, "If a cat licks me, does that mean a royal will never put a ring on my finger?" Of course not! By all accounts, Mr. Phillips is unfazed by the British constitutional ban on royals marrying cat licks. It is a testament to his love for this sunny Montrealer, and a potential step forward in his nation's march toward equality across skin types.
   It's not as if she's Catholic or anything.