In support of the endlessly fascinating phenomenon where Canadian summer politics have a larger entertainment factor than ever before, a story of startling breadth and incomprehensible banality has flooded the homes of all bored Canadians. The story is not more footage of our beloved Prime Minister singing at his party conference, nor is it a conference to determine who should be singing at his next party. It is not even a domestic issue. It is an issue of foreign affairs, and it will have global repercussions.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am here to bring you the far-from-exclusive tidbit of far-from-interesting information that John Baird likes cats. This may come as a shock to the numerous, petulant, dog-loving Conservative voters who gave the Tories their support in exchange for a canine agenda. In a corruption story that will make Greek politicians cringe, one of the leading ministers of this Conservative government reveals that he is deep within the influence of the feline lobby.
Combined with the cat craze of Laureen Harper, this favor of full feline support is dangerous. To make matters worse, rather than protecting us citizens, the government poses the greatest risk. The Tories have held this story as a poorly kept secret for some time now. Pictures of John Baird around cats of national interest have sprung up increasingly in the aptly named politics section of the once-great Ottawa Citizen. However, the truth is much darker than a few harmless pictures on the internet. It turns out that Baird’s professional work was kickstarted by an unhealthy foray into the world of cats and their human companions. While studying at Queen’s University, Barid undertook the task of documenting the life and home of a woman who lived with no fewer than 633 cats. The Citizen commented that the article he wrote on the subject must have been “the result of his passion for investigative cat journalism.” A passion that many say has now gone too far.
“Ha,” you might say. You may even go as far as to add a second “ha” for good measure in order to assure those around you that this revelation does not frighten you. But stop, o’ laughing reader, and think. How will this affect the country you love?
As none of you stand beside me as I write this and, therefore, cannot respond in real-time, I will presume to answer for you. “I haven’t noticed any differences yet,” you will no doubt say (or I will no doubt quote you saying). “And if I haven’t, then this simply can’t be as bad as you are making out to be!” You may be right, o’ ghost rebuke, but, then again, you may be wrong.
Why, I ask, has there been such a fuss over the loss of fish stocks in the East coast? Why do countless politicians fret over the dropping levels of sock-eye salmon in the West? Why are so many of our suburban parks increasingly filled with signs covered in the excrement of pro-feline policies that legally force us to pick up after our dogs? Why can the average feline roam free, while the average canine is caged within the confines of his backyard, or leashed like a wild animal?
The answer, of course, lies in the dubious workings of our felinophilic federal government. Now, I won’t how this realization affects you, but I will ask you to question the scale of detriment these cat-lovers have brought upon your lifestyle. The time to write to your MP on this startling matter has passed. Instead, we should take up arms against their fiendish felinity and hope we are not too late.
We must hope that, in future, our government is not so corrupt and mischievous. We must hope for a day where we do not live in a country where our government does nothing all summer and leaves journalists eking out a living by writing exaggerated hyperboles on the importance of politicians’ pet preferences. For that, my dear readers, would be a sad world indeed.