My fellow Americans, it is me, the cat. I am here in all my feline finery, ready to provide you with exceptional intellectual commentary, along with a rather cataclysmic announcement.
We're in the midst of an election year and I propose a unique solution to the debate. I don't mean to be catty, but I've had enough of the status quo, and by that I mean a dog named Bo. He's the tail-wagger that's managed to take up residence with the President - even though the canine in question isn't qualified to drink from my water dish.
Enough of the barking and yapping. It's time we got a cat into the White House. I believe it's the purrfect solution. Furthermore, I assert I am the cat that deserves your vote.
I am pleased to announce my candidacy for official White House pet. I don't want to sound purrtentious, but when I'm finished, that slobbering Bo won't be able to distinguish the difference between rawhide and his backside - and that's saying a meowthful.
Out with the dog biscuits and in with the catnip. Make room for my litter box and mouse toys; I'm moving on up.
I'm hitting the catpaign trail and I'm hitting it hard. The American people have issues (don't get me started). Lucky for you, I have answers for all the hot-button topics.
As far as education goes, I'm all for it - as long as each morning and afternoon includes time for the essential kindergarten nap. I stand for equality in napping and boldly purrclaim: under my watch there'll be no cat left behind. Yep. Yawn.
Health care, smealth care. You humans worry about things we cats have all figured out. Get yourselves nine lives and health care needn't be a concern. In other words: be like a cat and don't fret about a thing (except maybe napping).
National security. Ah, yes, we must be nationally secure. If I'm in the White House I'll show everyone (and especially that mutt, Bo) the undeniable truth: Claws speak louder than words. I will meow softly and tout razor-sharp talons.
Many Americans are anxious about the economy and unemployment. This is a tough one for me, as I abhor anything associated with work. I am a cat. I nap. This leaves more employment opportunities for the rest of you. That ought to be good for the economy. Problem solved. Oh, I am so smart.
If chosen, I will be a catalyst for change. I promise tuna in every dish and a sunny spot to nap every afternoon. There will be no more drooling and no more dogs!
I do not have the endorsement of any of the major (or minor) political parties, but I won't let this stop me from being a party animal. Cats love to party. We have nine lives, remember?
My slogan (which I am proud to say I wrote myself) goes like this: A vote for me is a vote for a cat. I rather like its originality and purrsausive charm.
I'm not letting the cat out of the bag when I say the American people are looking for solutions. Who better to deliver than someone with gorgeous whiskers and nine lives? I also have the ability to land on my feet as well as sleep in any number of positions or situations. I think these talents will prove useful in the White House (not to mention Air Force One).
I am ready for takeoff. Come November I'll be sitting in the catbird seat (otherwise known as the President's lap) and Bo will be out on his canine ears. Because you know what they say about dogs (and especially the one living in the White House): when it comes to politics, Bo don't know diddly.
- Jill Pertler's column appears every Thursday in the Times.
She can be reached at pertmn@qwest.net.
We're in the midst of an election year and I propose a unique solution to the debate. I don't mean to be catty, but I've had enough of the status quo, and by that I mean a dog named Bo. He's the tail-wagger that's managed to take up residence with the President - even though the canine in question isn't qualified to drink from my water dish.
Enough of the barking and yapping. It's time we got a cat into the White House. I believe it's the purrfect solution. Furthermore, I assert I am the cat that deserves your vote.
I am pleased to announce my candidacy for official White House pet. I don't want to sound purrtentious, but when I'm finished, that slobbering Bo won't be able to distinguish the difference between rawhide and his backside - and that's saying a meowthful.
Out with the dog biscuits and in with the catnip. Make room for my litter box and mouse toys; I'm moving on up.
I'm hitting the catpaign trail and I'm hitting it hard. The American people have issues (don't get me started). Lucky for you, I have answers for all the hot-button topics.
As far as education goes, I'm all for it - as long as each morning and afternoon includes time for the essential kindergarten nap. I stand for equality in napping and boldly purrclaim: under my watch there'll be no cat left behind. Yep. Yawn.
Health care, smealth care. You humans worry about things we cats have all figured out. Get yourselves nine lives and health care needn't be a concern. In other words: be like a cat and don't fret about a thing (except maybe napping).
National security. Ah, yes, we must be nationally secure. If I'm in the White House I'll show everyone (and especially that mutt, Bo) the undeniable truth: Claws speak louder than words. I will meow softly and tout razor-sharp talons.
Many Americans are anxious about the economy and unemployment. This is a tough one for me, as I abhor anything associated with work. I am a cat. I nap. This leaves more employment opportunities for the rest of you. That ought to be good for the economy. Problem solved. Oh, I am so smart.
If chosen, I will be a catalyst for change. I promise tuna in every dish and a sunny spot to nap every afternoon. There will be no more drooling and no more dogs!
I do not have the endorsement of any of the major (or minor) political parties, but I won't let this stop me from being a party animal. Cats love to party. We have nine lives, remember?
My slogan (which I am proud to say I wrote myself) goes like this: A vote for me is a vote for a cat. I rather like its originality and purrsausive charm.
I'm not letting the cat out of the bag when I say the American people are looking for solutions. Who better to deliver than someone with gorgeous whiskers and nine lives? I also have the ability to land on my feet as well as sleep in any number of positions or situations. I think these talents will prove useful in the White House (not to mention Air Force One).
I am ready for takeoff. Come November I'll be sitting in the catbird seat (otherwise known as the President's lap) and Bo will be out on his canine ears. Because you know what they say about dogs (and especially the one living in the White House): when it comes to politics, Bo don't know diddly.
- Jill Pertler's column appears every Thursday in the Times.
She can be reached at pertmn@qwest.net.
