I swore I’d never to another cat show. I really don’t approve of that sort of exploitation, but it was a slow day, Bucks was sleeping, as usual, and there was nothing better to do. Some of the contestants looked over fed if you ask me.
I had a talk with this one. Her name’s Lulu. She was kind of cute, just a kid really. “I flew in from Germany,” she told me. “Threw up on the plane. It was an awful trip. Show business isn’t easy, but I am well taken care of. I get bratwurst for breakfast and spend afternoons by the pool listening to Beethoven . . . mostly sonatas and string quartets.”
Here’s one of the winners. Go figure. He looks weird if you ask me. I tried to get an interview, but he was very stuck up. Wanted three sardines just for talking to me, and started running on about photo rights. I told him, forget about it. A lot of these show cats have overgrown egos.