Despite rumors to the contrary, I did not get into the political game because of the gravy trains or voting boxes. Those are just some ridiculously awesome perks of the job. My entry into the political arena came late in life. Although I was born into the George W. Bush Presidency and spent four years living in our nation’s capitol, I always thought campaigning and policy was a human’s game and that their world didn’t effect cats.
That was before the catnip shortage of 2013 and the great cardboard box collapse of early 2014 (in the picture below, I am surveying the scene of the disaster).
It was at this point that politics got into me. I had watched, too young to vote, unable to do anything as this country re-elected unarguably the worst President in history, and I wasn’t going to watch the same thing happen in Chicago.
Rahm Emmanuel never addressed the serious cardboard box safety issues or rising catnip price that I had felt compelled to bring up to the city. Just like when Tommy Carcetti was taking on incumbent Clarence Royce in Baltimore, I kept a record of his inaction. When it came time for his re-election run, I knew I couldn’t sit on my La-Z-Boy, prisoner to inaction and catnip any longer. The catnip was cool, but inaction be damned, I was going to become a cat of action. With my dog friend and Superintendent candidate Young Walter by my side, I declared my candidacy for Mayor of Chicago.
Look. Mud was slung, forms weren’t filled out, but we ran an honest race. And we did have success. Myself and the other candidates forced a runoff that served as an indictment of Rahm Emmanuel’s administration. Too bad he hasn’t taken the lesson of almost losing to heart.
The next major life event that made me think about continuing my political aspirations on a greater stage hit a little closer to home. After the great cardboard box collapse of 2014, I built my catstle bigger and stronger so that I would never experience those horrors again. And it was fucking glorious.
Then in the Spring of 2015, my parents cited zoning law violations and eminent domain to move my sprawling three room box kingdom from the sun-splashed panels of the North Living Room to the slums of the West Side, the proverbial wrong side of the apartment. It was bullshit. I went from three rooms to one and had to hire a Badger just for extra protection.
This injustice alone was not enough to cement my future in pawlitics. The defining moment came a couple months later when the hateful and inflammatory Donald Trump announced his intention to run for President of the United States. I could take no more.
— A Cat Named Bitches (@BitchestheCat) June 16, 2015
After consulting my political strategist and lead designer Kristin Miaso, we started putting together the Bitches 2016 team. Five days later, I announced my intentions.
— A Cat Named Bitches (@BitchestheCat) June 21, 2015
And that, kids, is the story of how a cat named Bitches found her way into politics. Check out the rest of my site to see my platforms and mission statement, and we’ll see you at the voting boxes. Bring ribbons. America Meow.