1. My Cat's Number One Priority is His Own Needs.

Geoffrey has a routine. As cats go, and I have had many, he's the most routine-driven feline I have ever met. He's deeply conservative that way. If I'm not up by 7am, he sees to it that I am and then flumpity flump down the stairs to the door. Out he goes just long enough for me to freshen his food and water, which I have paid for. He doesn't care if I have to pee first, or forgot to put out the garbage on garbage day, he has his routine and nobody is going to change it. The next thing he does is come in and eat that food, that FREE food, and he's smug and entitled when he does it. He then makes a commentary on his human companion:

Fig. 2. After consuming his food with an attitude of smug entitlement, he sends a message to the 99%.

2. My Cat is a Racist.

Geoffrey is an unapologetic racist. Like the GOP with banksters and corporate types, he cozies up to people, even new people, because they keep the slush fund of food, water, litter and catnip flowing like the Mighty Mississippi. But as far as other animals are concerned, if you're another animal and you're not a ragdoll cat like he is, he'll deliver an angry screed and may attack you. I have never seen such rank racism, or at least not since the last time Rand Paul gave a speech.

Fig. 3. The ugly face of ragdoll supremacy.

3. My Cat is a Sadistic Authoritarian.

Geoffrey believes in the death penalty for vermin, but he's not content to use some supposedly humane form of execution, oh no. He is both a practitioner and advocate of torture of the most ugly sort and expects--no, demands approval and support for that by bringing these poor creatures into the house half dead. If he were a member of Congress, he'd perform an execution live on C-SPAN just to make a point.

4. My Cat is a Lazy Bum.

Not only does Geoffrey enjoy an exalted position in the household, he feels entitled to more vacation than he has earned, very much like a Republican politician.

Fig. 4. The Republican cat's natural state of being.

5. My Cat is a Conspiracy Theorist



In the 1960s, a regular non-pedigreed white domestic longhaired cat named Josephine, who had produced several litters of typical cats, was injured in an accident involving a car and taken to the veterinary hospital at the University of California. Josephine was of a Persian/Angora type and had litters sired by several unknown male Birman or Burmese-like cats, one of which had the Siamese point coloration. Baker believed that Josephine was subject to a secret government genetic experiment during treatment at the lab, and claimed that it made Josephine docile, relaxed when picked up, and immune to pain.

Fig. 5. Docile sun-basker or government conspiracy? I report, you decide.

So there you have it, my feline friend, five reasons why I think you're a Republican member of the 1%. The revolution's a coming, Geoffy, and you can't do a thing to stop it.

Update: This diary hitting the very top of the rec list is definitive proof that the rec list is a cesspool. /snark