Reading the daily newspaper from cover to cover clarifies the inescapable fact that humans are devolving and soon enough will be crawling on all fours. They are also incredibly mean-spirited, taking any opportunity to discredit those with differing values or opinions. This has become tragically evident as my husband seeks a seat on our local Town Council, a position which in importance is a mere drop in the pond scum called politics. Mitch's sterling reputation, fair-mindedness and unassailable intelligence is being denigrated by a howling bunch of moronic "woke" banshees who don't like my blog, as if what I write has anything to do with him!
So for those reasons and more, starting today I will lead the trend and identify as a cat. My pronouns are "kitty" and "it." I will spend my days in the woods, batting at flying insects and chasing little critters, then come inside for a bite to eat, a snort of catnip and a nap on the couch. No handshakes or fist bumps for me, instead I expect tummy rubs from my housemate and all visitors to our home. Anything less will simply not be tolerated. (A few shredded curtains and the occasional hairball should make that clear.)
I will not be having any surgery. Instead I'll just grow my nails really long and wear one of those discarded knit pink pussy hats from the old days you can find in thrift shops and on eBay.
Naturally I will expect my decision to be respected by everyone. I will also be pressing for more of my kind, both natural and trans-feline, to be admitted to the hallowed halls of universities and the highest echelons of major corporations. My dream is to see a Domestic Shorthair as President. That shouldn't be hard -- after all there's a pussy in the Oval Office right now.
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