Larry, The Downing Street Cat - Political Psychodrama Continues

There are few sights more unsettling in modern Britain than a Westminster street suddenly deprived of television correspondents. Usually, they stand about in clusters, talking earnestly into cameras about events that have either not happened yet or happened three days ago. But today, blissfully, my street was almost empty. Peaceful, even. One could hear birdsong again. Or perhaps that was just a malfunctioning Boris bike. The usual parade of overpaid gobs-on-sticks had largely vanished, presumably exhausted from repeating the same sentence for the previous twenty-four hours with only minor alterations in eyebrow movement. Even broadcasters, one suspects, eventually tire of the sound of their own voices, though evidence remains inconclusive. My own morning began in considerably finer fashion: a rather splendid serving of unseasoned chicken accompanied by a delicate little white fish. Simple, understated, perfectly judged. The Chief has outdone himself. I shall be writing to his boss immediately. In politics, as in cat life generally, it is always wise to remain on excellent terms with the individual controlling the food supply. After breakfast, I placed a quick call to my editor over at the Cat News Network. He sounded oddly breathless, as though engaged in some vigorous and deeply private emergency involving a litter tray. Journalistic standards are not what they once were. I explained that, given the alarming absence of hysteria outside, there appeared little requiring my immediate analysis, and might I therefore take the day off from my punishing reporting schedule. Mercifully, he agreed. And so I have spent most of the afternoon exactly where any sensible cat would: draped beside the radiator, observing the world with detached superiority while wondering why it feels so cold for this time of year. Meanwhile, it seems some sort of arrangement has been cobbled together between Wes Streeting and that Burnham fellow, meaning this particular political psychodrama, part Shakespeare, part parish council dispute, is destined to lumber on a while longer. Still, there is comfort in routine. Westminster will continue twitching nervously at itself, journalists will continue explaining things nobody asked, and I shall continue monitoring events from a safe distance of roughly three feet from central heating. So, as ever: keep calm… and Larry on. #larrythecat #cats #cutecat #politics #animals