Aimee Patton

A pleasantly eccentric take on politics

I have a house cat named Harry.  Harry is almost two years old.  I recently had to put  Harry on anti-depressants.  His love for snacking on my ankles was just more than I can take and I realized he’s not “growing out of it”.

Let me just say for the record that I am completely aware of my first world problem.  A bummed out cat who needs to be medicated puts me in a schmuck category that I may never overcome.

Next up I’ll be complaining that my weekly massage wasn’t strong enough and how I can’t wait until November to vote for Romney.

So here is Harry’s top 5 reasons he is on an anti-depressant:

Number 5

I eat the same food every day and it’s just so dry. I long for variety.

Number 4

My owner named me after a grumpy, old Jewish man.  I’m just acting the part.

Number 3

I’m not a lion.

Number 2

I’ve been living a lie…I’m really an outdoor cat.

The number one reason Harry is on anti-depressants:

Have you met my owner?  Enough said.


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