Recent events drove me to bury my head in my favorite blanket. Being the son of strong feral marsh cats that regularly survive hurricanes, I recovered quickly when it became clear that the wisdom I have to share is far better than what is peddled by most newspapers. In case you have not noticed, newspapers have lost their souls along with lots of employees.
My buddy, David, and I were dedicated readers of both, the Washington Post and The NY Times until they threw away the last vestiges of real journalism this summer.
Because David’s company decided to wind down its business, David has signed on as my ghostwriter. His fingers type a lot better than my paws.
Tabby cats are great observers, but they also have responsibilities. Every tabby has the duty to share its amazing fur with those humans who have earned petting permission. Our human caregivers provide us with warm shelter, fresh water, nutritious foods, lots of belly rubs, clean litter boxes and welcome us to their beds when we choose to come. It is a good deal. Humans get a dose of cat wisdom and we all get to cuddle.
I must emphasize that as the former commander of the Tabby Cat Alliance, I still have responsibilities like morning squirrel watch (squirrels being the source of most of the evil in the world) and evening litter box patrol where I make certain the litter boxes are shipshape for the next day and that plenty of dry rations have been added to our bowls. I am always on tuna patrol. You never can tell when some tasty tuna juice will become available. The next can pop could be the one.
Goose Speaks 
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