 (This paradox is also known as the paradox of 1001 cats; Geach 1980, Lewis 1993): Focus on Oscar and Oscar− at t — before Oscar loses his tail. Is Oscar− a dog? When Oscar loses his tail the resulting creature is certainly a dog. Why then should we deny that Oscar− is a dog? We saw above that one possible response to Chrysippus’ paradox was to claim that Oscar− does not exist at \(t'\). But even if we adopt this view, how does it follow that Oscar−, existing as it does at \(t\), is not a dog? Yet if Oscar− is a dog, then, given the standard account of identity, there are two dogs where we would normally count only one. In fact, for each of Oscar’s hairs, of which there are at least 101, there is a proper part of Oscar — Oscar minus a hair — which is just as much a dog as Oscar−. There are then at least 101 dogs (and in fact many more) where we would count only one. Some claim that things such as dogs are “maximal.” No proper part of a dog is a dog (Burke 1993). One might conclude as much simply to avoid multiplying the number of dogs populating the space reserved for Oscar alone. But the maximality principle may seem to be independently justified as well. When Oscar barks, do all these different dogs bark in unison? If a thing is a dog, shouldn’t it be capable of independent action? Yet Oscar− cannot act independently of Oscar. Nevertheless, David Lewis (1993) has suggested a reason for counting Oscar− and all the 101 dog parts that differ (in various different ways) from one another and Oscar by a hair, as dogs, and in fact as Dalmatians (Oscar is a Dalmatian). Lewis invokes Unger’s (1980) “problem of the many.” Oscar sheds continuously but gradually. His hairs loosen and then dislodge, some such remaining still in place. Hence, within Oscar’s compass at any given time there are congeries of Dalmatian parts sooner or later to become definitely Dalmatians; some in a day, some in a second, or a split second. It seems arbitrary to proclaim a Dalmatian part that is a split second away from becoming definitely a Dalmatian, a Dalmatian, while denying that one a day away is a Dalmatian. As Lewis puts it, we must either deny that the “many” are Dalmatians, or we must deny that the Dalmatians are many. Lewis endorses proposals of both types but seems to favor one of the latter type according to which the Dalmatians are not many but rather “almost one” In any case, the standard account of identity seems unable on its own to handle the paradox of 101 Dalmatians. It requires that we either deny that Oscar minus a hair is a dog — and a Dalmatian — or else that we must affirm that there is a multiplicity of Dalmatians, all but one of which is incapable of independent action and all of which bark in unison no more loudly than Oscar barks alone.