“Why’s he got a get a fucking puppy?” yells Bernie the Half-Cyborg cat, drunk off of a couple saucers of gin. “Why can’t Obama get his daughters a cat?’
“Because they don’t want a cat, they want a puppy,” I say.
“Presidents always get dogs,” Bernie says. “I want to see more cats in the White House.”
“Apparently W had a cat,” I say. “Named India.”
“But you never heard shit about that cat,” says Bernie. “Everyone’s all about that stupid terrier Barney. He gets all the videos. He gets to go on trips with the President. He gets to sinks his teeth into a member of the media. India never got shit.”
“Maybe India was smart enough not to want to be seen with his owner,” I say, “considering he was busy fucking up the country.”
“We haven’t had a visible cat in the White House since Socks in the Clinton administration,” says Bernie.
“And the Clinton’s didn’t even keep Socks when they left the White House,” I say. “They gave Socks to their secretary when they left. He apparently didn’t get along well with their new dog Lucky, and plus Socks was Chelsea’s cat and Chelsea couldn’t bring the cat to college.”
“If Obama is serious about change, he’ll get himself a bunch of cats,” says Bernie. “Where are the presidents that had multiple cats, huh?”
“Actually Calvin Coolidge had a cat, a bobcat, two lion cubs, and a pygmy hippo,” I say.
“Hmm… then Obama needs a liger,” Bernie says.
Half lion/half tiger… just like how Obama is half-white and half-black… I like this idea, at least for a moment. Yeah, of course there’s the possibility of the Obama daughters getting mauled by such a large jungle cat, but there are always risks when you embrace change.
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