Since it hit the papers, I’ve been looking at Minnie-Chat in a different light, reevaluating her conduct over the past fourteen years.

Here’s the way it always worked: my doorbell would ring and Minnie-Chat would bolt for the bedroom. All one could see was a huge lump in the middle of the bed. Could have been anything, right? A football or a small tortoise?

Oh, the kidding that I took from family and friends: “She’s so neurotic. Maladjusted. Scared of her own shadow.”

Well, they’re not laughing any more, are they?

Here’s what she related yesterday to The Sun.

This was the big test I had been waiting for – this time HQ’d have to recognize my efforts publicly. It would be a big day for felines everywhere!

I materialized in the bunker just as the burly Ambassador from Z. was advancing towards the Prime Minister with a bottle of port. With no time to get my bearings. I jumped up and landed square on his chest and began to scratch and claw.

Then I gazed at my mutilated paws. I’d botched the Maneuver!!!

I was slinking away when the Ambassador cried out. He’d been splashed with the port and angry red welts were bubbling up on his face and hands.

As the world now knows, the port contained plutonium — I’d saved the day!

Of course, I’m not the only one having a hard time with Minnie’s stories. And I’m her mommy! Do we know if that machine that transcribes her thoughts is reliable?

I’m so much more than a big stupid pussy. My life’s about more than a bowl of crunchies and batting some chewed up ping pong ball around the house. What motivates me? You’ll never guess. My Braveheart! And our joint mission: Animal Rights. No more sterilizations, mutilations, enslavement of unsuspecting kitties. And we want our own country too! With maybe a few humans to fetch and clean up for us?

I’ve seen “Planet of the Apes” and I know what I’m talking about!

CNN mentioned that the Ambassador is Free Choice for Kitties! I’m so upset. His compound in Siberia is like a Disneyland for Animals! HQ still hasn’t backed up my story . . .

Braveheart and I met in Basic Training. He’s a red-haired Maine coon, massive and fluffy. With my black and white markings, we make a great pair. And we’re soul mates!

Today Minnie was seething. “I want to be with Braveheart and my own people. Maybe they’ll appreciate me!”

(She’s mad about the Nobel Peace Prize going to that human and all he’s ever done is write books! And where’s her parade?)

So it’s decided. Minnie-Chat’s off to Siberia to start a political movement. I’ll visit—in the warmer months—and she promises to materialize under my covers whenever she needs a cuddle.

I’m a cat and I’m proud.
Take your hands off my body. . .
unless you want to rub behind my ears!


© Janet Garber
[This piece was selected by Frances Gapper]