The incoming prime minister could find his time in office limited if he fails to ingratiate himself with Larry, the most admired Briton in the Commonwealth
They’re dropping like flies.
UK prime ministers haven’t been lasting very long of late, with the British public highly critical of the way they’re running the country, and more importantly, the many ways they’ve failed to adequately serve the real power in No. 10 Downing St.
We’re talking about Larry the Cat, of course, who has lived in No. 10 since 2011. (The building is technically the prime minister’s home and office, but among the people it’s known as Larry’s House.)
Inadequate humans.
With Keir Starmer announcing his resignation, Larry has now outlasted six prime ministers, and the clock is already ticking on the seventh.
Prime ministers come and go. Larry endures.
"I have accepted Keir Starmer's resignation as my chief servant and have invited Andy Burnham to lay out details for how many meals a day he'll give me" pic.twitter.com/7Ix95PMsN7
Q: So the theme of this interview is humans, specifically humans you admire. Would we be correct in assuming your human is at the top of your list?
Buddy: You would not.
Q: Uh, okay. Why not?
Buddy: Because he’s a wimp! A pushover. Weak.
Q: Wow. Okay. So who are some humans you admire?
Buddy: Let’s see. Genghis Khan. Tony Soprano. Xerxes of Persia. Kim Jong Il was pretty cool even if his hair was not. The Tokugawa shoguns. King Joffrey’s a classic. Nero. Ivan the Terrible. Oh! Commodus from Gladiator, he’s another good one.
Q: Seriously?
Buddy: Yeah!
Buddy and the humans he admires.
Q: But why? They’re all tyrants!
Buddy: Exactly.
Q: You consider that a positive personality trait?
Buddy: I love a good tyrant. I’m an aspiring tyrant myself, you know. Some would say I’ve already achieved tyranthood, although my tyrannical activities have been small time so far. I say when it’s bed time, I demand snacks whenever I please, I’ve banned closed doors in my domicile, I collect protection treats from the other cats in the building, I’ve…
Q: That sounds a bit more than small time.
Buddy: Indeed, but I haven’t realized my plan to take over the world. World domination has always been my dream, even as a kitten.
Q: What would world domination under Emperor Buddy look like?
Buddy: Well first of all, we’d have to have the humans build a replica of the Coliseum. The cats need entertainment, and I need a place to feed my enemies to tigers. Plus we can make the humans fight each other for our amusement whilst I sit in my imperial box where beautiful women feed me candied figs and my servants fan me to keep me cool.
Q: Uh…
Buddy: And then we invade Turkey to plunder all their turkey. I’ve given a lot of thought to that, obviously. My personal guards will be an elite group of lions called the, uh, Lion Guard. They’d look all intimidating and stuff in their resplendant armor. Also, I would summon a group of the best engineers, experts in biomechanics, and luxury car designers to create vehicles for my people.
Buddy’s Lion Guards stand watch around his imperial personage.
Q: You want cars for cats?
Buddy: Exactly.
Q: But lots of people would object to sharing the road with you guys…
Buddy: They don’t have a choice, remember? I’m the emperor!
Q: Right. Well, this has been an, uh, enlightening inter…
Buddy: I say when the interview is over!
Q: Er, okay. Is there anything you wanted to add?
Buddy: During my reign, there will be mandatory nap times. Also, when I enter a room everyone must stand, not only because they should bow and say “My liege,” which sounds pretty cool, but also so I can pick the spot I want. If any human was sitting there, they will move, of course.
Q: Of course. If I may…
An Imperial Buddesian coin featuring a likeness of Imperator Buddy. This 10-can coin entitles the bearer to 10 cans of premium cat food.
Buddy: Yes?
Q: Where does your human fit into all of this?
Buddy: Which one? All the humans will be my loyal subjects when I’m emperor.
Q: You know. Your human. The one who adopted you and takes care of you, feeds you, cleans up after you, rubs your head and tells you how brave you’ve been when you get scared…
Buddy: Fake news! I don’t get scared.
Q: My apologies. Of course you don’t get scared, nothing could frighten you! So what happens to your human when you’re Emperor Buddy?
Buddy: That’s an excellent question, one I haven’t given much thought to yet. I could make him the High Warlord, grant him a dukedom, or put him in charge of the mint to oversee the handsome new coins featuring my likeness on them. But I have trouble sleeping unless I’m draped over him, and it would be a pain to train someone new to make things just the way I like them, so he can be Bates.
Q: Bates?
Bates, right, assists Lord Grantham changing into his dinner wear on Downton Abbey. Buddy envisions his human holding the position of Bates in his Buddesian Empire.
Buddy: Yeah. Like on Downton Abbey. My personal servant, separate from all the palace servants.
Q: Ah…
Buddy: I’d just feel more comfortable if he were always within three feet of me. That is non-negotiable. And with that, I now formally declare this interview concluded. If you’ll just step over there please, my Master of Great Works will take down your information so that, if the final published version of this interview is displeasing to me, we can send you to the mines along with everyone else I don’t like upon my ascension to the throne. Cheers!
The Youtuber known as Xing goes to extraordinary lengths to create scaled-down places for his cats to play and lounge in within his Cat Town.
Xing, the Youtuber who previously turned heads by building a working subway system for his cats, isn’t finished transforming his Cat Town into a one-of-a-kind extravagance for his little buddies.
The Youtuber’s latest creations are a 3,500-seat, air-conditioned, to-scale feline basketball arena with its own real hardwood court and a cat hotel.
Xing also showed off the exterior of Cat Town, which has a McDonald’s and several empty buildings.
He’s soliciting ideas from viewers on what he should build next. While I love the subway and the arena, I think he should try something a little more practical, something his cats will definitely use. The cat hotel is different, since it’s entirely possible one or more of his cats will use the hotel room as a private getaway, but it does raise an interesting question: what would a cat want?
For most cats, including Xing’s fluffy Maine Coon, a pool wouldn’t be a great choice, but what about a hot tub? A Japanese capsule-style hotel with cozy rooms that fulfill the feline desire for tight spaces? A bowling alley where cats can knock pins over to their hearts’ content? A town park? A golf course filled with sand traps for…uh, never mind that last idea.
Here are some shots of the hotel lobby, elevator and guest rooms:
And here’s Xing showing off the impressive scale of Cat Town. He says he’s got a lot more room to build, so we won’t see an end to these impressive projects any time soon.
Despite rumors of lavish excess, a staff of personal servants and even her own chef, Choupette’s reality is much less extravagant: she lives quietly with Lagerfeld’s longtime former maid in a Paris apartment.
When the people behind the Let-Them-Eat-Cake orgy of excess known as the Met Gala announced 2023’s event would honor the late designer Karl Lagerfeld, the natural question was whether Choupette would show up.
The Birman cat with striking blue eyes was the German fashion designer’s most beloved muse, and he was so besotted with her that he included her in almost everything he did.
Evangelista Choupette Vogue cover
If Lagerfeld wasn’t photographing the fluffy feline in the arms of the world’s best known supermodels or bringing her as his plus-one to fashion world events, he was pining for her presence: she was his favorite subject in interviews, for which he had no shortage of superlatives to describe her.
Initially the plan was not only to include Choupette in the Met Gala fundraiser honoring the memory of her “daddy,” but also to pair her with that timeless icon of taste and high culture, Kim Kardashian.
So Kardashian, working with Choupette’s agent (yes, she really does have one), traveled to Paris to meet with the imperious kitty.
It did not go well.
The ill-fated meeting. Credit: Hulu
The organizers think Choupette did not like the sound of Kardashian’s synth leather jacket, but I like to think the pampered puss found Kardashian too artificial even for the circles she and her late human moved in.
Regardless, after several bouts of prolonged hissing and a lunging attempt at clawing the reality TV star, both parties called a halt and decided Choupette would not be attending the gala.
This detail, along with other interesting tidbits, were revealed in a story published by The Atlantic today.
The lengthy article provides a little more background on how Lagerfeld was instantly converted into a cat servant, as well as a breakdown of the situation involving Lagerfeld’s will.
In short, while everyone in the know agrees Lagerfeld did put aside a considerable sum for his beloved feline’s continued care and comfort, a tax dispute between the French government and his estate has effectively frozen disbursement of Lagerfeld’s money, assets and real estate.
Lagerfeld with Choupette. The designer died in 2019.
An expensive piece of property owned by Lagerfeld is in Monaco, attorneys for his estate contend. French authorities naturally disagree, insisting it’s technically in France, which means there’s a substantial back tax owed.
French law does not allow animals to inherit money, so the sum Lagerfeld intended for Choupette was willed to her caregiver. Not a single Euro has been paid out as lawyers haggle over the tax issue.
Choupette isn’t on the street or anything close to a pauper. She remains in the care of Lagerfeld’s longtime maid, Françoise Caçote, who was the feline’s primary caretaker in the German designer’s absence. They live in a comfortable apartment in Paris, where Choupette eats and naps well, and is watched over by Caçote, her husband and children.
Media reports of a vast fortune, a personal chef serving up gourmet cat food and a round-the-clock team of professional pamperers do not reflect reality, but Choupette doesn’t care.
“The most important thing is that she’s happy, surrounded by love and affection, and protected as Karl would have wanted,” Caçote told The Atlantic’s Chris Heath.
While Choupette skipped the Met Gala, actor Jared Leto went all out with a costume that captured her look.
For Choupette, that’s all that matters. Max Renneisen, a German artist who has painted portraits of Choupette, pointed out our remarkable ability to turn animals into anthropomorphic characters. (A sin I’ve never been guilty of, obviously. Little Buddy dictates his musings and I merely serve as stenographer.)
“All the fuss we do about her, all this concept of celebrity, giving a meaning to her, everything—this is us, for the humans,” Renneisen observed. “Choupette is not a diva. She’s a cat, and we want to see the diva in her.”
Who better to take charge in the UK government’s seat of power than the cat who has lived there for 15 years?
Larry the Cat, the UK’s most magnanimous and beloved feline, has shared his home with six prime ministers since he was brought on to No. 10 Downing St. in 2011.
After elections last week diminished current Prime Minister Keir Starmer’s party and grip on power, it seems only a matter of time before a seventh prime minister applies to share Larry’s home.
But if doing the same thing repeatedly and hoping for different results is the definition of insanity, as the famous saying has it, then it won’t be long before Larry outlasts his seventh and eighth prime ministers.
There’s a simple solution: roll out the big chair for Larry. He already naps in it.
As the UK’s equivalent of the White House, No. 10 is both the residence and office of the country’s political leader, and in 2011 the rodent problem at Downing Street was so out of control that then-Prime Minister David Cameron famously threw a fork at a mouse which appeared during a state dinner.
Enter Larry. A prominent local rescue in London, Battersea Dogs and Cats, recommended the former stray for his hunting skills, and Larry arrived at Downing Street like the Fresh Prince of Bel Air.
He has outlasted Cameron, Theresa May, Boris Johnson, Liz Truss, and Rishi Sunak.
Larry the Cat. Credit: 10 Downing St.
With the prime ministership feeling like a revolving door at times, Larry’s stoic presence has provided the kind of stability the late Queen Elizabeth II would be proud of. He’s become a national treasure, with approval numbers with the public that human politicians would kill for.
Now the sixth human Larry has generously allowed to occupy No. 10, Keir Starmer, is on the ropes. While we don’t pretend to be experts on the procedures, deal-making and Machiavellian maneuvering that allows UK politicians to wrangle coalitions into prime ministerships, the headlines indicate Starmer is on his way out even as he tries to dig in his heels.
He’s lost a significant amount of support since a major election defeat, and while he remains defiant, his own party members have begun to urge him to step down. It’s a familiar pattern to anyone who has observed politicians come to grips with the end as everyone around them braces for change.
Larry celebrated his 19th birthday just a few months ago but has shown no signs of slowing down.
Here at PITB, Little Buddy and I feel that instead of handing the government to another incapable human, it’s long past time to make Larry the official prime minister.
Larry is already the UK’s de facto leader, well-versed in statecraft from more than 15 years of napping in the vicinity of the UK’s top decision-makers. He’s not intimidated by other politicians, and while some (like former US President Barack Obama) have earned his favor, he’s famously snubbed others.
He’s been the de facto power within No. 10 for quite some time, his leadership skills are beyond question, and the kids love him!
Pain In The Bud 
