The cat in our house still hasn’t decided whom she will vote for, but I imagine she will cast her ballot for the candidate who promises the most handouts. So far, staying with the handout party has been good for her. She is fat and happy, and can take long naps instead of having to prowl around after her mice and bluebirds.
That means I get her vote. I represent the Big Daddy Party, which supplies her with two bowls of kibble each day and a saucer of milk each night before she goes to sleep. Speaking of sleeping, I also provide her with a place to sleep (the top of my car, in the garage). When she is gently awakened in the morning, her bowl of kibble awaits.
Then, she gets to spend the rest of the day doing what she wants. She faces no requirement for finding or holding a job.
Some days, she disappears and doesn’t show up until it’s kibble time in the evening. We often have wondered where she goes to spend these hours. We think to ourselves: Has she found a place where she can occupy herself until dinner time? Apparently she has.
With a day of free hours ahead of her and a tummy full of cat food, she takes off across the street to a neighbor’s house and talks to the neighbor’s cat through a window. I didn’t realize this until Monday, when I was sitting on the front porch and saw our cat appear from the back of our yard. It was obvious she didn’t see me sitting on the porch. If she had seen me, she would have come over to where I was sitting and asked for more food. She may even have rubbed on my leg. That is called cat marketing. Instead, she strolled across the street and disappeared into the neighbor’s side yard bushes.
I have no doubt she tells the neighbor’s cat what a good life she has, and to vote for the Big Daddy Party so the good times can keep on rolling.