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TheNational Postre-imagines a week in the life of a newsmaker. Today, Tristin Hopper looks at the week through the feline eyes of Stanley, the prime minister’s cat:

Monday

Well, there’s The Man again: Alone, hunched over his bowl of Corn Flakes, packed into his suit. It’s times like this I wish I could have been a cat to a more glamorous owner. An Egyptian Queen. A French president. A Chinese emperor, perhaps. Instead, my lot in life is to prowl around this drafty old shack, clearly bought on a middle manager’s salary. I still haven’t figured out what The Man does all day. I’m guessing … accountant? Maybe patent lawyer? Definitely nothing as interesting as an architect or marine biologist.

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Tuesday

Tonight, the wife and kids are out of the house for the night. The Man stood by the window until he saw their car disappear past the driveway. Then, with a gleam in his eye, he went to the basement, opened the false bottom of a steamer trunk and retrieved his dog-eared collection of Adam Smith books. It’s a pretty impressive collection: A special edition of The Wealth of Nations and even a rare copy of Lectures on Justice, Police, Revenue, and Arms. Of course, the wife ordered the whole collection gone when they got married. She still says she wishes he would look at her the way he looks at free market theory.