Larry, The Downing Street Cat - The Beginning of the end

I was roused at an ungodly hour this morning by a commotion emanating from Keir's man cave. Normally, the place has all the excitement of a provincial carpet showroom, so any noise above a polite murmur immediately attracts attention. At first, I couldn't make out what was being said. Human political discussions often sound like a tumble dryer full of cutlery. However, there were several raised voices, a couple of words unsuitable for publication in a family newspaper, and the unmistakable sound of a coffee cup meeting an abrupt and terminal end. Now, I'm not a betting cat. Gambling has always struck me as an unnecessarily complicated way of losing money that could otherwise be spent on premium tuna. Nevertheless, if I were inclined to place a wager, I would happily put a tenner on a chap called Andy Burnham becoming my new manservant in the not-too-distant future. Apparently, Burnham has just secured a rather convincing victory in a by-election somewhere. Humans seem tremendously excited about these things, despite the fact that most couldn't find the constituency on a map if their lives depended on it. The important bit, as I understand it, is that this result gives Burnham the opportunity to challenge my current manservant for leadership of the Labour Party and, by extension, the keys to Number 10. Should he succeed, Andy Burnham will become my seventh manservant. Seven. At this point, one begins to wonder whether the Prime Minister serves the cat, or the cat serves the Prime Minister. I know where my money would be. #cats #cat #larrythecat #animals #pets