Conservative Kitties

My sister, god love her, is a socialist. She lives with about twenty thousand books and two cats, Tye and Bubba. To keep the cats from being lonely when she is away from home she keeps a radio playing softly on NPR. The cats spend their days with Bob and Noah and Renee and Neal and the rest soaking up liberal ideology. At least they do when she is around. This summer she is running a church camp on the edge of a marsh overlooking Brunswick, St Simons, and Jekyll.

My job is to feed the cats and I confess that I've fed more than their furry little bodies. I changed the radio station to the local AM with its cast of conservative commentators. I figured that listening to eight weeks of Rush Limbaugh would do them some good but I wasn't prepared for what happened.

Tye thinks that dogs should get a job while Bubba is hoping that Ronald Reagan will free him from this communist prison so he can go eat some birds. Tye likes sleeping on The Wall Street Journal and Bubba is partial to The Weekly Standard. They both have eschewed the fresh water in the toilet bowl and demand their water ration to come from bottles so as to avoid fluorine. Neither cat shows any sign of feeling guilt, liberal or otherwise.

Traces of their liberal upbringing still cling to them. They would not be caught dead in a "good Republican cloth coat" because they prefer fur. They consider the free food from the government (me) to be a god given right. They still act as if they are superior to everyone.

Amazed at the sudden transformation of these kitties, I decided to experiment more and moved the dial to the new Christian rock station. Hisses and caterwauling were the instant result and Bubba attempted to gnaw off my ankle. I immediately dialed over to some classical music that was coming from NPR while the talkers caught their breath and the cats calmed down and started purring.

Cats will let you change their politics, but don't mess with their music.